What is the Law?

In the Free and Sovereign Nation of Stacietania, there is but one law: Show Up or Shut Up.

I admit I made that law when I was in deep pain. I had sold myself short for years (decades?) and allowed people to sooth me with words into putting up with less-than-honorable behavior. I don't want to pile on my ex here, because I still coparent with him. But we stopped being good for each other a long time before we divorced. The words turned out to be empty, as words so often are. We live in a world where people do not live with integrity. Weak people say things they don't mean and don't hold themselves to their word.  And we all let them do it because we have all felt that impulse. It is easier to say things than to do things. And so we all live with empty promises and empty threats. And guess what? It leaves us empty.

It hurt me a lot to live that way. I wanted to be in my strength. But as long as I allowed myself to be placed at the low end of the table in people's lives, I did nothing to honor myself. Whether or not I felt I deserved it, I accepted less. I played the concubine, but I wanted to be the queen. My power was drained away from me. In truth I gave it away. It made me bitter. I got angry.

At some point I hit the rock bottom of taking emotional abuse from the world. I set the rule for other people in my life: Show Up or Shut Up. To be around me, people had to be true to their word. Deeds were what I looked at. It was hard, because words are pretty and easy. I had to be willing to cut my circle of trust down to the bone. I broadcast my intention to put up with no bullshit.
Like I said, I thought that rule was just for other people. It was my protection against pain. People who were all talk had less access to me. There would be no acceptance of half-measures. I was a hardass about it. I learned to sharpen and hone the word NO. I used it to cut a lot of people out of my life that didn't have the strength to handle the new me. I chose quality over quantity. It sounds lonely, but it was fine. It helped. I got hurt less. Not to say never, but I had to learn that some of my hurts in life happened because I had permitted them to. I sorta hoped that the people left in my life would follow the law, and that was enough. Not exactly.

Stripping it down further, I realized that I needed to Show Up or Shut Up for myself. Romantic relationships were an Achilles Heel for me. I felt that in a romance I should be able to get my needs met more if I applied the law to people and held them to a high standard. I can see that it wasn't a bad idea, but it was a skilled archer with a good bow but the wrong target. My needs really are not for another person to fill. When someone else wanted me to behave a certain way to make them happy, I balked. That sort of codependent thinking was a trap. I didn't want to be solely responsible for another person's feelings. That didn't feel right. That was a bottomless pit.

I started looking at, and in fact made a list, of the things I thought a relationship would provide me. I could see that I was externalizing my power. There I was, all strong or so I thought, giving away the keys to my inner core. I thought that was what I was supposed to do. When I looked at that list, I started to see that there were some ways I provide those things for myself. For example:

• I wanted security for myself and my son. 

• Okay. I went back to school and got a job that would make more money
• I used some of that money to buy better insurance in case something went wrong.

• I wanted love and to not be lonely.
• Guess what? Being married to the wrong person didn't make me feel loved, and in fact was one of the loneliest times in my life.
• I resolved to spend more time with friends and my son and my pets.
• I wanted sex
• Crap. You got me there. I might have to have other people in my life for that.
• But not always. 

In the end, at the end of my last relationship, I realized I could replace my last boyfriend with a sturdy ladder and a good vibrator. It wasn't worth keeping that person around to get stuff off of the top of the fridge or change a light bulb. The depth of feeling wasn't there for me to continue with him. So I broke it off, because my soul wasn't being nourished by it. 

And he fired back by calling me a Selfish Bitch. Because he knew me enough to know those words would hurt me. 

I figured I would be alone. I was scared, but determined to make a life one way or another. Alone if need be. I wouldn't settle. Working on my Masters' Degree, I focused on the goals above. Make it better, more secure. More friends. More love, less bullshit. I would Show up and Shut up for myself. I would quit bitching and start living in earnest.

Then in the back of my mind I remembered that unique and amazing guy who said to call if I was ever single. He had ideas about what to do about that. So the craziest thing happened. I dropped him a text. I put my heart out on a string in the most vulnerable way possible. That beat up, battered and scarred heart that didn't appear to be worth much to anyone else. Not even to me sometimes. I offered it anyway.

It took him a day and a half to respond, during which time I figured it was just talk. Empty words. And I would soon be dealt-I figured-a crushing ego blow. I had called his bluff and he was going to have to admit that it was just an off the cuff remark and he didn't mean it really. 

Only that is not what happened. 

Turns out he was picking his own heart up, from where it jumped out of his chest and landed from my sudden, unexpected pronouncement.  And there was my heart, offered up. Only he didn't see it as a nearly ruined thing. He cradled it close and laid a healing hand on it. And that thing managed to warm him the way it was never able to even knock the outer layer of frost off of other people. I don't know which of us was more surprised. 

Suddenly, like every person on a journey to enlightenment, I had a giant epiphany. And one of such stunning simplicity. I needed to Show Up for him. What made this real for us both was me shaking my schedule and budget until both bled, and I few across the country. And he was waiting to embrace me. And we made it real. The one law I had created to shield myself from other people applied to me as well. If I wanted to be close to him, I needed to follow it myself.

My heart feels good for the first time in ages. Everyone notices. I am gobsmacked by how happy I am. I'm a delirious lovefool. The world seems to be a little less harsh because I have softened up. I set down that bitterness I was drinking and I feel better. So many different things are happening. I want to show up for the people in my life more now. My friends, my parents, my son. I feel centered and secure. I am slowly daring to feel hopeful. Yes, I give him a lot of credit for being awesome. But I had to allow it, too. 

Show Up or Shut Up is still the law of the Free and Sovereign Nation of Stacietania. It is a just law, that applied to all, brings a lot more peace than I thought. 

Celebrity Crush: Justin Theroux

I love Justin Theroux. He is my boyfriend. He has that whole dark hair/fair skin/post-punk attitude that just makes me weak in the knees. He's just hot. I have seen interviews with him and he comes across as literate and interesting, which I can't resist.

I have written at least two fictional characters that if a film were made of the story, I would cast him if I had the choice.

I'm watching "Mulholland Drive" today, and he is just awesome in that. He was also great on "Six Feet Under". Yum.

Girlcrush-Mary Louise Parker

I mostly just want to have her tousled bed-head hair here. In my dizzy daydreams I could never be that thin. Gotta love her on "Weeds", though.

Plus, she is a mom and looks this hot. Go girlie!

New Girlcrush-Eva Green

I watched "Casino Royale" again today while Little A was napping. Damn, Eva Green is so beautiful in that movie. I want to learn how to wear red lipstick like that and not get it everywhere (I realize that this is a movie trick).

I love the look of pale skin, dark hair, and striking eyes on both men and women. So sexy. Rawr. I love her tousled bed-hair in this photo. *swoon*

I just wanna be her, maybe. Stunning.

"I hope you still love me"

I had a dream last night that really helped me out on a couple of levels.

I was dreaming that I was at my grandparents' old house, and lots of my cousins were there and we were having a sort of family party. Daniel Radcliffe walked up the driveway and I met him at the breezeway door. He embraced me and whispered in my ear "I hope you still love me, because I can't wait to get you alone."

I kissed him tenderly and led him by the hand into the heart of the party. I had a really warm, affectionate feeling for him.

When I woke up this morning, I knew exactly how to fix a bit of writing where I had painted myself into a corner. I had finished a chapter about a page earlier, and had tried to artificially stretch it out with some content that just wasn't working. It felt good to cut it off where the cut belonged. It wasn't the same exactly as doing new writing, but I hadn't had any insight into that manuscript in a while. I think I have a good idea on how to proceed next, so unblocking that felt really good.

Celebrity Crush: Richard Hammond

I gotta admit, this one is a little bizarre, but I am starting to have more than one "type". I have the first blush of a new celebrity crush: Richard Hammond from the BBC show "Top Gear".

He's just a little bit of a thing, embarrassingly nicknamed "Hamster". He's wee. I wanna squeeze him. I have impure thoughts about him, even though I would crush him with my bodacious curves.

What's his deal? What inspired my fan-lust?

He's smart and funny. Oh my. Top Gear is hilarious, anyway. But he really makes me laugh. I love a guy that can make me laugh.

Quirky good looks. He isn't classically good looking, but he has big, expressive eyes and a great smile. His co-hosts on Top Gear joke about him using teeth whiteners all the time.

British. It is well known that I love the Brits. I must be harboring a secret desire to marry a cousin. (eeeewwwww, just kidding!)

Pixie-man physique. I never did go for the big, brawny types. For some reason lately, I have been very attracted to delicate, petite men. So odd. I used to love toweringly tall guys. Now it is all about tiny men with big brains.

He drives fast cars for a living. Rawr. Even though he famously almost died in a jet powered car accident, he's got that expert driver thing going for him. He also describes his driving experience with evident pleasure. That is immensely appealing to me.

He can take a joke. Jeremy and James on Top Gear have a great deal of sport with him. It's fun.

He's almost my age. For you freaks who accuse me of only liking the young boys, Hammond is a year younger than me, and looks naturally aging. Cute smile lines and all.

*swoon*

Heh heh heh

I have no words.

Stacie of the Lost Ark?

I was mentioning to someone the other day that, even after all these years, "Raiders of the Lost Ark" is still my favorite movie of all time. If it is on, I will watch it. I am sorta interested in the fact that they are doing a 4th movie, but the original will always be the best one.

The Reasons:
1. Dr. Jones is one of the most amazing characters ever brought to life. He has that rugged and yet brainy thing that is totally sexy. I was so young when I first saw this movie, but I knew there was something special about him. I felt my first pangs of real sexual longing over this movie. I don't think I knew what I would do to him, but I wanted to do something.
2. Harrison Ford.
3. Non-lame female Lead: Marion could drink you under the table and then punch you in the gob. Not very good at hiding from monkeys, though.
4. Totally gross, face melting ending. Cool!
5. "Asps. Very Dangerous. You go first"

I wonder how many people my age watched that movie and then promptly decided to become archaelologists when they grew up? I wonder how many actually did it? How many grew to have an interest in artifacts and digging in the dirt with a tiny spoon and a soft bristle brush? In other words, rather than dragging from a whip from behind a truck full of Nazis, did the real life of an archaeologist actually stick?

I wonder this as I stare in amazement at the rejection letter from the nursing school I applied to. Me, with my respectably high GPA and work ethic that is fueled by a likely case of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Some bullshit about not meeting program requirements? I think one of those requirements is kissing the ass of the incompetent head of Admissions and Records who has at several critical junctures given me bad advice and then denied it later. I may, very possibly, be blackballed and not even know it. Given the national nursing shortage, the fact that nursing schools are turning away students is totally lame.

Assuming of course that I pass my Math 120 final tonight, I will graduate with another AA degree from that ramshackle community college where I wanted to continue on in the nursing program. I might find myself an academic free agent. It might be time to reevaluate my academic plan.

Not that I won't keep trying to get into a nursing program. After all, I do have a scholarship already lined up for it. But if I keep hitting roadblocks like I have been, it may be more trouble than it is worth. I was only doing it because RN money is pretty good. But other things about nursing make that job look like a real pain in the ass.

Not that I am considering archaeology per se, or even swashbuckling adventure in the antiquities market. But I do love Anthroplogy, archaeology's culture-focused cousin. Medical Anthropology in particular fascinates me. So while I am taking next semester off to ponder my choices, I am also going to consider a distance-learning program at a University in Wales. I'm also going to UNR to ask them what majors I might be able to complete in the most expedient amount of time.

All I know is that I am through with the rinky-dink educational settings. I want to do something that really sets my soul on fire. Life is too short to do anything less. As for the money, I am sure I would be able to secure funding if I really need it.

Who knows, maybe someday my spunky, underage driver sidekick might tell me, "No time for love, Doctor Ferrante!"

Instant crush-just add coffee

On Sunday evening, my gal-pal E and I went to coffee at a local, non-chain java joint. We both are under tons of stress, so it seemed only fitting for us to consume more caffeine. As tired as I was, I was feeling buoyed by getting out of the house for a bit.

I went to order my coffee (the usual, a sugar-free hazelnut latte) and the boy taking my order had a riveting set of blue eyes, pale skin and dark hair. Even with the scruffy young man's beard and knit cap, he was stunning. His eyes/hair/skin tone combo is my current favorite.

So I turn to E before I can even order my drink and say out loud as I point to him. "Isn't he super cute? Don't you just want to pinch him?"

She laughed at me and replied "Pinch him where, exactly?"

I refrained from saying where I would pinch him, and he thanked me for the compliment. He had the perfect blend of embarrassment and pleasure on his face. While he made our coffees, we chatted about the fact that I am turning 39 next week, and he was only 23. He was relating how discouraged by whatever lack of progress he was making as a skateboarder, and how a guy in his forties had assured him that he still made progress in his thirties. I agreed, and told him that I had experienced a world of growth and confidence since I was 23. Mind you, I was never hotter physically than when I was 23, but that can only take you so far.

E and I went to and outside table despite the chill in the air because all the inside ones were full, and I wobbled a little on the step, sending a small dollop of foam onto the sleeve of my jacket. I went back in for a napkin. The napkins were set up next to the espresso machine. When he saw me come back in alone, he had an interesting look on his face. I have been married for a long time, but I still recognize it. It was the "oh, is she coming to give me her phone number?" look.

I got flustered and stammered. "I just need a napkin." He smiled at me, but after that he didn't meet my gaze. I kept stealing glances, though.

How lame of a cougar did I come off as? I used to make fun of my mother for being into younger men, but recently I have begun to see the appeal. Not that I would ever be so stupid to neglect my wonderful husband, but younger people are so nice to look at.

I *heart* the cute skater baristo. God, I am such a dork.