So here it is Friday Night. I am wearing a $2 t-shirt from Wal-Mart and really ratty underwear. Playing Chicken Invaders 3 and listening to Toby Keith ask "How Do You Like Me Now? (oh just fine Mr.Keith, just fine ;) and watching a show on TLC about a flaming gay man addicted to rhinestones designing gowns for pageant queens in Oklahoma (yes-all at the same time-nothing wrong with a little adult on-set ADD). An empty box of Mike and Ike on the coffee table.
WOW
I know...right? I think it is awesome too!
I am really happy. I am-I mean it. Even though I sound like the chick version of the guy in the Brad Paisley song "So Much Cooler On Line". I am content. Even though I sit in a complete state of inertia. I can't move forward and I don't want to go backwards. There must be angst hidden there or I would not be prompted to write for the first time in months. Let's see...
Angst 1: I have been in contact will several old friends from high school or old jobs-Facebook of course-and it just makes me wonder. While I sit here in this little Fla town on the edge of the ocean, how does my life stack up? I have a job I love and really great kids~but no grand adventures, no tragic love stories, no...oommph...no.....well, you know. How many times can I pull out the old "I went to the Playboy Club" thing or "One time we went to the horse races and ended up in the Bahamas"? I have had a few brushes with odd people~the lesbian with the tambourine, the MySpace guy with the librarian fetish, the stalking of the Publix meat manager, the Australian Professional Wrestler~but nothing exciting. Nothing that will get me a drink in a bar or invited to dinner so I can retell the story. Sigh.
Angst 2: Secret Envy rules my subconscious these days. I am covetous of my teenage daughter and her freedom and exploration of life. God, high school was fun and awful and crazy and I am so happy she is doing it and not me. I am jealous that my friend is going back to school and getting OUR Leadership Degree. I am coveting her WRITING-stuff people actually want to read. I am even begrudging her the awkward and slightly painful relationship she just cut out of her life. Dude, this guy (while very nice-a real sweetheart) called her muffin and his underwear panties. He had to go but still, he was there in the first place. I am lusting after the new house she is going to buy~sure, the old house is slowly killing her with Chinese drywall, but she is getting A NEW ONE! I am totally envious of my best friend who is fostering a 1 year old and a 2 year old. She can't go anywhere or do anything,but she has little ones again!
Which leads me to...
Angst 3: I have lost my balls. I can't make a decision to save my life. I think I want more babies or NOT... I want a man and I want to be single. I want to buy a house and I want to travel with my dog, iPod, computer and not much else. I want my kids to go to college and I want them to stay with me forever. I want to stay here so I can take care of my Mom and I want to live in a tent on the edge of a jungle near the water all alone. I want to write a book and a blog people read and do it "anonymously" while people celebrate my wit and enormous vocabulary in the comments . I want to build libraries in Africa and I want to go buy a sleazy romance novel to read in my chair as a hot cabana boy brings me margaritas and sunscreen. I want to be a slug and I want to compete in sprint triathlons. Which leads me to...
THE ULTIMATE ANGST: I am sure this is a mid-life crisis. A man on a dating site asked me why -at 47- I called my self "middle-aged". He is 52 and all the people at the gym think his life is really just beginning-after dumping his first wife for a 22 year old personal trainer (OK-I added that part but you were thinking it and it is probably true). Why? Because no matter how you look at it, I am in the middle of my life. I have been through 3 phases and am getting ready for the rest. It ain't good or bad~it is reality.
If I were a guy, I would put on my "cool shirt"-polyester from 1977- throw on a few chains, go to the local hot spot in my penis-replacing red sports car, spend money like water, pick up a beautiful girl with daddy issues and start my life over. If I were a different woman, I would dye my hair, get contacts, drop 100 pounds, wear something that shows my boobs and cool shoes that make my legs look a mile long, go to the new local hot spot in my ball-replacing black "elegant" sports car, throw around money and pick up a beautiful boy with mommy issues and start my life over.
But I am me. Stuck on the precipice of the rest of my life-the next phase-my "new freedom". I don't know what I want and I don't know where I will go or how I will get there. But it will be OK. I have several career paths I can follow-or I can happily stay where I am for 20 more years and that would be OK too. I have friends who will push or pull me along on all their adventures and from time to time let me navigate the next road we take. I have kids who have SWORN they will put me in a really nice nursing home and pay for it. I even have a "half-son" who says I can sleep in his spare bedroom in the basement. It's all good...
But I really do want that Red Corvette~cause I look really good behind that wheel!
