Wednesday, August 30, 2006

People come in and out...

My husband always tells me, "People are going to come in and out of your lives." I hate it when he says that.

He says I hate it because I don't want to hear the truth. YEAH... so what?! Maybe I don't. I don't like when people come in and especially OUT of my life. It bugs me. And here I sit mourning the loss of a friend whom I feel has one foot out the door.

My best friend and I have been close for over 15 years. We worked side-by-side together, I was 19 and she was 31 when we met. I was a kid and she was a mother of two: an 11-year old girl and 13-year old boy. We clicked instantly and had lots of fun together. But looking back on it now, the roles were that I was The Kid and she was The Adult. I lived at home and had long-term boyfriend. She was a real adult who did her own laundry, paid her own bills, cared for her own children. But I loved to hang out at her house. I would even offer to help her do her laundry and loved to stay over for dinner. There I was, searching for that mother figure.

Anyway, our friendship had stood the test of time, even when she moved back to Toronto about four years later. I would visit a few times a year. I loved to visit her, to escape my own life, to enter hers. I loved the inquisitive questions she would ask me and the interest she had in the goings on of my life. I never had someone who cared so much.

Now, time has gone by and I'm a full-fledged adult doing my own laundry, paying my own bills and caring for my own child. And she's got an empty nest, trying to make a go at a good career, very secure in her marriage... and living back in NYC.

But my life now is complicated, not always fun and seems to be always problematic. I'm not that little girl who used to run to her in Toronto for a few days of solace. I have nowhere to run, and feel unable to anyway because of my attachments here. She can't save me, protect me, mother me. And I sense that she's frustrated.

I've told her once before, that no matter what she would ask of me, I would do it. But I know, in turn, she will not. She will not drive to my house on the traffic-jammed LIE to babysit just because I would prefer to have my child in her own bed, on time. She wants me to be less rigid sometimes, more rigid others, and definitely, a stronger person all the time.

But also, I'm not who I was. And I'm not who she wants me to be. And I almost feel apologetic for that. I just wish our connection could always remain the same, even if we change. I don't feel accepted by her anymore. Rather, I feel judged and constantly rejected. I never thought I would.

We're supposed to meet for lunch on Friday in the city. I feel that for the sake of our relationship, I need to confront this problem head on. It's my only chance to save us. But my fear is that her other foot will meet the one that is already out the door.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

The Brother I Didn't Get

I used to think my Mom and her brother (pictured here, circa 1980), were coool people.

Here's a little bit about my story that I have not yet told. My parents had me when they were 19 years old. Being too young and irresponsible, my father cheated on my mother and they broke up when I was about 2. Mom had to go out and get a job full-time to support us... yadda yadda yadda, I end up living with my grandparents when I was about 2 1/2.

At the time I moved into my grandparents' apartment, my Uncle V and Aunt J were still living at home. They were just about 17 and 19 respectively. Although my Uncle was rarely ever home, I idolized him. I thought he was good-looking, cool, and a great guy. For years, I remember pining for his attention by trying to dance with him or even by telling him a dirty joke (that I got in trouble for) when he stopped in quickly to iron a shirt. And I actually remember the one time he took me to the park. I was ecstatic. Maybe I was looking for a father figure, or maybe... just a big brother. We could have had so much potential for a good relationship. For some reason, he was never around and up until now I just chalked it up to being a young adult wanting to party and hang out with his friends.

So he's turning 50 this year. He lives farthest from any of us, and rarely comes to family events. He comes so seldomly that other relatives stopped inviting him... even me. I wonder why he's always kept his distance. I wonder what baggage he carries, what cobwebs are in his suitcase.

I wonder if he's pondering his life as I am pondering my life with him in it, as he turns 50. I've been asked to create a slide-show montage to music for his party (something I've done for past family members). So, now I see his life before me in pictures. As a baby, a pre-teen, a family man. I see his many smiles in these pictures, but have seen few of them in real life. I wonder, if at 50, does he feel complete? Does he feel he has accomplished what he wanted with his life? Does he think he would have made his father proud? I hope so.

I can't help but get emotional when I play his video montage in still an uncompleted state. I'm missing so many pictures from his teens, 20's and 30's. Where did he go? Where has he been? Who is this man who used to sit me on his shoulders while he did his pushups in the living room? My mother has lots of pictures from this time and plans to email them to me.

I see him now a couple of times a year and for the most part, he just looks tired, frustrated, and unfulfilled. He doesn't seem to want to have a good time when he's around us. He would much rather sleep. I wonder why he keeps people so far away from his heart. And I wonder if he has any regrets about not being a big brother to me as I cannot find a single picture of the two of us together.

I'm happy to say that it seems to me that he's always been there for his two sons, now about 17 and 12. He's been very active in their lives and caretaking. Admittedly, I'm a little jealous, even now at 35. Somehow I always end up feeling the way I did when I was a little girl.

Anyway, the song I've chosen for his montage will be The Riddle by Five for Fighting. The "You and I" in this song can be translated into so many people: father and son, husband and wife, for anyone who loves another and is looking for the answer to the meaning of life.

http://www.myspace.com/fiveforfighting

The Riddle
by Five for Fighting

There was a man back in '95
Whose heart ran out of summers
But before he died, I asked him
Wait, what's the sense in life
Come over me, Come over me

He said,
"Son why you got to sing that tune
Catch a Dylan song or some eclipse of the moon
Let an angel swing and make you swoon
Then you will see... You will see."

Then he said,
"Here's a riddle for you
Find the Answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I..."

Picked up my kid from school today
Did you learn anything cause in the world today
You can't live in a castle far away
Now talk to me, come talk to me

He said,
"Dad I'm big but we're smaller than small
In the scheme of things, well we're nothing at all
Still every mother's child sings a lonely song
So play with me, come play with me"

And Hey Dad
Here's a riddle for you
Find the Answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I...

I said,
"Son for all I've told you
When you get right down to the
Reason for the world...Who am I?"

There are secrets that we still have left to find
There have been mysteries from the beginning of time
There are answers we're not wise enough to see

He said... You looking for a clue I Love You free...

The batter swings and the summer flies
As I look into my angel's eyes
A song plays on while the moon is hiding over me
Something comes over me

I guess we're big and I guess we're small
If you think about it man you know we got it all
Cause we're all we got on this bouncing ball
And I love you free
I love you freely

Here's a riddle for you
Find the Answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I...

Thursday, August 24, 2006

The Art of Music - Alanis Morissette

Like art, music is subjective. A song can mean something to you that is totally different than the artist intended. Or, perhaps, you see what they see and you feel what they were feeling when it was created. There are so many songs throughout my life that bring back memories: memories of those hot 1970s summertime drives with my father during his obligatory Sunday visit, memories of hanging out with my my best friends at a club in my early 20s, memories of crying myself to sleep after my boyfriend of 8 years was killed one July night.

There are certain artists that have touched my life and have become a premiere member of my All-Time Favorites playlist on my iPod. I go to that playlist when I'm feeling nostalgic, emotional, passionate or want to sing at the top of my lungs while I vacuum.

For me, this week's song is Not the Doctor by Alanis Morissette. The entire album from 1995, Jagged Little Pill, is angry, emotional, intense, magnetic and contagious. To me, she is saying "I don't want you to project your shit on me, so look at me for who I am and be grateful for what you have."

Not the Doctor
by Alanis Morissette

I don't want to be the filler if the void is solely yours
I don't want to be your glass of single malt whiskey
Hidden in the bottom drawer
I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine
Lend me some fresh air

I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you
I don't want to be your babysitter
You're a very big boy now
I don't want to be your mother
I didn't carry you in my womb for nine months
Show me the back door

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6
Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh
Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom
You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

I don't want to be the sweeper of the egg shells that you walk upon
And I don't want to be your other half, I believe that 1 and 1 make 2
I don't want to be your food or the light from the fridge on your face
At midnight, hey
What are you hungry for

I don't want to be the glue that holds your pieces together
I don't want to be your idol
See this pedestal is high and I'm afraid of heights
I don't want to be lived through
A vicarious occasion
Please open the window

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6
Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh
Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom
You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

I don't want to live on someday when my motto is last week
I don't want to be responsible for your fractured heart
And it's wounded beat
I don't want to be a substitute for the smoke you've been inhaling
What do you thank me
What do you thank me for

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6
Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh
Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom
You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Tying Loose Ends

Well, this past Monday was my first training session with my new trainer after he scolded me. I've been avoiding him, and am only going back because I signed a friggin one-year contract. But to be honest, he gave me a great workout. And one that adhered to my atttention-deficit personality -- I get bored easily. He would have me do one exercise, then another different one, then another, then start the routine again. It was great, upbeat, and allowed the time to pass quickly with no time for "dead air" in between.

So thank you, New Personal Trainer, for not being a turd this week.

And, as for my BFF, I hope I didn't scare her further away. I told her how I felt hurt and neglected. She had a lot of "Buts" but I hope she heard me. The bottom line is that I love her like a sister, and only wish we were closer and spent more time together. I hope that is what she heard.

Oh, and I have one more addition to my Top 10 Men My DH Would Permit Me To Have A Sexual Encounter:


Josh Holloway, from "Lost"


Yummmmmmmm.....

Monday, August 14, 2006

Cricket Love

This is an appropriate picture today because:
  1. My dh and I are trying to conceive (ssshhhh! don't tell anyone)
  2. I'm not much of a photographer and this one is kinda cool.
  3. My daughter loves bugs. I told her they were mating and she told her Grammy, "Look, the crickets are eating!"
  4. I'm trying to get more hits on my blog with 25peeps.com.
  5. It's cricket season!!


Friday, August 11, 2006

Friendship

"A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away."
- Arabian Proverb

I dream constantly. I always remember my dreams, some of them in great detail with even sounds and smells, some of them so cryptic I can't even describe. But I actually love to dream, I enjoy it. In a way, I discover more about my feelings, and which feelings are strong enough for me to have in a dream.

Last night I dreamt of my old job and my BFF. I worked at an investment banking firm (let's call it Mitchell and Family) for 14 years until I quit to become a SAHM. I was at the pique of my career but felt like something was not right because I had this little girl waiting for me at home. When my husband got a promotion and big raise, we decided to give SAHMotherhood a try. I started at Mitchell and Family when I was just 19, so I feel I truly grew up there. I was well-respected and had been given some good opportunities. I was loyal. I also worked a lot of hours, sometimes if it were a big project, I'd work into the wee hours. I defined a lot of myself with this job. I was proud of myself. And it's actually been a bit of a struggle for me to adjust to "just" managing the house and caring for my daughter. Therefore, I dream a lot about work.

I also met my BFF at work about... hmmm... 15 years ago. She's from Toronto and eventually moved back there after about 3 years of living here (the first time). However, we kept in touch and stayed pretty close. I would visit her a couple times a year, she was Maid of Honor at my wedding. I felt that from the bottom of my soul, she was one of the few people to GET me and accept me for who I am. I could tell her anything and she was always so great at listening and giving advice. And admittedly, she was sort of a mother figure for me. She has two children who are in their 20s now, about 8 and 11 years younger than me and they're great kids. They are the kind of kids I would hope my children grow up to be someday.

About 6 years ago, Boogies (our nickname for each other) decided to move back to NY. I was thrilled. I thought our friendship would grow even more. And it just so happened that she was going to live very close to the neighborhood where I grew up. Unfortunately, I had just bought a house and was moving out to Queens, but I thought that would be no big deal since we had so many miles in between us before.

So Boogies settled in, and so did I, into our own lives. As it turns out, I think I see her less than when she lived in Canada. And the time has come to where she and her husband have decided to move back once again. The more I think about it, the more heartbroken I become. I thought we would be Two Peas in a Pod, inseparable. I thought we would know each other's daily lives and talk endlessly. I thought we would be going to the beach together, go shopping together, go to brunch together. But it didn't happen. And I'm not blaming her completely for it... we both always have some kind of excuse. And maybe my expectations are that of a little 12 year-old girl.

Hindsight is always 20/20. I feel like I see this so clearly now after I let 6 years go by. So, I called her a couple of weeks ago on the weekend to share my feelings. And she was uninterested, and said she was ready to take a Sunday afternoon nap. That hurt. I wanted her to feel the same way. And I thought we would have gotten together already, to chat, "to have tea." I wanted to talk about it for an hour, get teary together, laugh about it, and plan for our next meeting.

Anyway, it doesn't matter what happened in my dream. It was cryptic and weird just like all the others, but it was really about two of the losses I'm feeling right now: a career and identity of myself I left behind, and a friendship that had so much potential but just didn't bloom.

Monday, August 07, 2006

My Top 10 Male Celebrities

Let's have some fun today! My husband and I always used to joke that we would each allow 10 celebrities that we would allow the other to have a sexual encounter with. Throughout the years, my list has changed constantly, but let's give it a go here:

1. Brad Pitt -- I know, I know, you might say he's overrated, but I liked him from the moment I saw him in Thelma and Louise... so there.

2. Owen Wilson -- this is a new addition for me, but I'm totally digging him lately. Although his recent movie, You, Me and Dupree totally sucked, I actually love that pouty look.

3. Robin Williams -- I LOVE his humor and Good Will Hunting is one of my favorite movies. I find a great sense of humor enormously sexy.

4. Justin Timberlake -- the younger guys actually don't always appeal to me. But THIS guy is sooo smooth. I would love to just be one of the girls he humps in a video! Although his "wigga-ness" is a slight turnoff, that's ok, I'm not looking to have any conversation with this guy!

5. Matt Damon -- this Boston-hood type guy is very sexy to me. In the movie Good Will Hunting, he "had me at Hello." That young man trying to find his way is something I totally relate to. It doesn't hurt that he's got a smile that could light up a room.

6. Lenny Kravitz -- I don't care what this man wears, he is the epitome of cool. He is sexy beyond sexy. He oooooozes sexy.

7. Matthew McConaughey -- although he seems completely FULL of himself, he has every reason to be. This cowboy has looks that could kill!!

8. Jake Weber (the husband on TV show Medium) -- not bad looking, but I looove his character on the show. What husband would have no problems with their psychic wife waking them up constantly in the middle of the night with her "I see dead people" problems. On top of that, he usually is fine with frequently taking the kids to school late and handling dinner at the drop of a hat. And his deep sexy voice just makes me want to listen to whatever he has to say!

9. George Clooney -- yes, I know he's probably on just about every woman's list. And years ago, I refused to put him on mine simply for that reason. But after seeing many interviews and walks on the red carpet, I must agree that he's so charismatic, funny and SMART. I guess he might have some sort of problem with commitment or intimacy, which is why he isn't married, but I'll take him!!

10. Lance Armstrong -- to say this man is driven is an understatement. The whole Live Strong campaign just made him even more sexy to me. And I was particularly sad to hear that he and Sheryl Crow broke up. I thought they were a great couple.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Dreaming of Kim

I don't have a recurring dream, I have a recurring person in my dream. I don't know why my psyche is constantly reminded and haunted by her. I mean, of course I know how our friendship started and finished, and I accredit her to saving my preteen life.

As a preteen, I was super-skinny and lanky with braces. In prior years, I became the butt of the jokes for the kids on my block. Kids can sense a weak, uncertain and unconfident kid. The bullies push them around because they know they won't push back. I was the one they all made fun of, and sometimes then, the others would join in and it became a game. I think they knew I would do anything and take everything just to hang out with them. In school, I always had just a few friends, and always clung to a best friend. (You'll hear more about my best friends throughout this blog, as they all played an important role in my history.) At twelve years old, Kim befriended me and the heavens opened up.

Kim was the smartest in the class. Not the prettiest, but her friendly and quietly confident disposition was a magnet for teachers and students alike. Everyone always knew she would get a perfect score on her exam, no matter the subject. I was awed because I held her so high and she was always so cordial, even to me, the Invisible One.

In the seventh grade, we were assigned a project to complete in teams. The teacher teamed me up with a great group: Nicole, Colleen, myself and KIM. I was amazed and astounded. I had won the lottery. Kim, of course, took the lead in the project and immediately invited us all REGULARLY over to work on it!! I still remember the first day I walked to her house. I was excited and scared and honored.

I don't remember what the project was or the grade we got (I'm sure it had to be an "A" with Kim on our team), but that's when the friendship began. Kim didn't become my Best Friend, but she was my favorite friend. She lived on a block with such nice kids, mostly our age, not like the rugrats that lived on my block. I became a person in that circle who was valued, who fit in, who mattered. I was no longer the skinny kid that everyone made fun of. Because of Kim, I was part of a circle, Kim's Circle.

I've Googled her name before (a very uncommon Italian name) and I discovered that she's married with at least one child, and still lives in the NYC area. In my dream, I was in her giant backyard, watching her family swim in her inground pool. I just remember thinking, "Wow, I finally found her... and of course, she's successful with a big house."

I wonder what she's really doing, how she is and if she ever thinks about me.

My Social Butterfly

My daughter, Ladybug, is the only girl in this picture.

I am so proud of her. This was taken this past June for her cousin Chance's birthday (he's the first boy on the left). Ladybug idolizes Chance. For the first year-and-a-half of her life, Chance came over every day for 12 hours with his mom to babysit while I went to work.

Anyway, the reason for this picture is because this is Chance's 6th birthday party in my Aunt's backyard (aka Chance's Nana). She barely knows anyone at this party, yet she's sitting right there with the big boys eating Pixie Dust Sugar Sticks and Flying Saucer ice cream.

My social butterfly. She will walk up to anyone and say, "Hi. Wanna play with me?" I was so the opposite when I was a kid. Although I wanted to play, I was to shy to make the initial introduction. Still am. But from a young age, I've socialized Ladybug. The one trait that I didn't want her to have of mine is her fear of making friends. So now, she's outgoing, fun, and a ball to hang out with, no matter how old you are.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Heat Wave in New York City!

Heat waves in New York City actually bring back some fond memories of my childhood. I was born in 1971 in good ol' Brooklyn USA, of which I'm very proud.

Brooklyn has so many faces, so much character, so much history that contributes to the definition of New York, and even this country. Every neighborhood from Brooklyn Heights to Coney Island is rich with diversity, culture and history.

If you ever want to see this town from a true down-home New Yorker's point of view, rent any Spike Lee movie. I particularly have a special place in my heart for Summer of Sam, simply because it took place in 1977. I was 6 and clearly remember The Blackout.

Although after reading that article, I forget how bad New York was back then. Rather, my memories are more about the blistering heat, running through the strong blast of the johnny pump (a.k.a. fire hydrant), and playing on the block. The sprinkler cap on the hydrant in the picture above didn't come until years later; instead, you just turn on the water FULL-FORCE and try to stand in front of it without getting thrown to the ground.

On the day of The Blackout, I have a few memories: my Aunt had broken her ankle and was in a cast. My uncle still lived at home with my grandparents and I, and his girlfriend Tina actually slept over, which I thought was so scandalous. Candles were lit the inside of the house, we walked with flashlights, and the radio was on while we sat outside on the 2nd floor porch waiting for the streetlights go on again.

On the 2nd day of The Blackout, I remember going somewhere by bus with my grandfather to pick up his paycheck. I had never gone with him before, and the air felt like hell but I was thrilled to go on this adventure with him. Funny enough, I don't remember much else of that trip except that a man who didn't speak English well stopped to ask for the time.

I distinctly remember the way Grampa wore his watch. It was a big silver watch, and he always kept the face on the inside of his wrist which made him hold his arm straight-up in front of him to look at the time. "Grampa was so nice to that stranger," I thought, "He's always so polite to everyone." I loved to go anywhere with him... to the ends of the earth by bus or subway if he wanted to.

Afterwards, I went to my cousin's house for a dip in their pool. They were the only ones in the neighborhood that I knew who had one. I was really disappointed when the electricity came back on. It wasn't long enough for me. For a brief time my family wasn't crowded around the TV talking about nothing and going about our usual business. Instead, we hung out under the stars and candlelight, listened to the radio and were just.... together. It was a joyous event.