I Should Have Been a Lesbian

Well, I did it. I asked a boy out from work in an email. I felt like a complete idiot, although all of my friends assured me that it was very "brave." I agree, and think maybe this will be a new criteria for receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor. Needless to say, I did not receive a medal or any reciprocation to the email. I unabashedly humiliated and now get to spend my time at work avoiding the pink elephant in the room each time I see him instead of avoiding doing actual work, which is what I'm best at. All of my girlfriends have been very quick to point how "awesom and beautiful and wonderful" etcetera, etcetera, I am. Apparently I am very appealing to members of the same sex. It's the opposite sex whom my charms and allure are lost on, save men who are 20 years my senior or boys who are 10 years my junior. It's men my own age that have no interest in what I have to offer. And since I can't quite get myself excited about the mechanics of lesbianism, I'm thinking ahout takint those twenty-somethings up on their offers. I could start a new "wildcat" craze to precede and train for the cougar years. I have always felt like somewhat of a trend-setter.

Generation Text

I am turning 32 next month, so it seems completely rediculous to me that I feel the need to start any sentence with "My generation" or "When I was your age". However, something happened the other day that started me thinking about my generation and about when I was a kid. I received a message from a fellow Gen X'er that was followed by IMHO. And I had absolutely no idea what that meant. So like any normal person, I googled it. (In My Humble Opinion)

The fact that in my short life we have gone from the first IBM PC's with only 16 KB RAM and no floppy disk units (you "youngsters" may have to google floppy disks) to many of you probably reading this blog in the palm of your hand, absolutely astounds me. We went from putting in hundreds of lines of code to watch a seal bounce a ball on its head, to "googling" on a daily basis in a 20-year time span.

In Jr. high and high school my family had a bag phone and my friends thought I was sooo cool for that. For those of you who don't know what a bag phone is, well it is exactly what it sounds like. It is a phone, with curly cord and all, that plugs into your car lighter and has a strap for easy carrying. I didn't have my first cell phone until I was a sophomore in college and it was a doozy. I could no longer carry a wallet because I couldn't fit both in my purse. Today I feel completely lost without my cell phone and often wonder how the world survived before them.

This incredible technological explosion puts some very interesting questions to mind: Does Area 51 have anything to do with this? What is the difference between the iphone and the ipad? Are we really that far from flying Deloreans?

Then I Remembered

I got up last night after being awoken for the 27th time with boney knees shoved into my side, me hanging on to the last piece of mattress I could call my own and wondering exactly how someone so small could take up so much room on a king sized bed. I wandered sleepily to the couch and then I remembered the first 19 days of his life. I remembered how it felt to wonder if my child would win the fight for his life or if I would get the chance to hold him before he should lose it and I promptly crawled back onto my little space of mattress and threw my arms around him.

I came into the living room this morning after asking him to finish his breakfast for the 40th time ready to explode at the amount of oatmeal left in his bowl. And then I remembered the first time I got to feed my child over 40 days after his birth and being so thankful we had made it that far. I turned off the TV and took the time to sit down next to him and helped him finish his breakfast.

I walked through the house picking up the articles of clothing thrown in the exact spot they were shed, wishing I had the means to hire a maid. And then I remembered putting him in his first premie clothes and seeing how tiny they were in my hands and how they swallowed him whole. And I realized how picking up after him would never mean the same to anyone else.

Many times I get frustrated, and impatient, and exasperated. Being a mother isn't always glamorous and I don't very often get the thank you's I feel I deserve, but then I always remember. I remember how I almost didn't get this opportunity and I realize that I've been given more blessings than any one person deserves.

Ava-tarded

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has been hearing the hype about "Avatar Depression Syndrome". There are people out there, apparently a lot of them, who are getting suicidal after seeing Avatar. And not because they can't hook up with the 7-foot tall natives of the movie. (I guess I'm the only one who likes freakishly tall men.) No, it's because the make believe world of Pandora is sooo beautiful and our world pales in comparison. Really? I mean I understand the feeling of seeing something so magical and the heartbreak that comes from knowing it will never exist. The first time I saw Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, I didn't leave my room for 3 days. I mean who wouldn't want an orange-faced, green-headed, pot-bellied midget making an edible world for you to live in? I don't think anyone would turn down that paradise. (On a side note, TLC's "Little Chocolatiers" has helped that dream a little) But isn't the entire point of going to the movies to get lost in make believe, since reality stinks most of the time? We don't want to pay $20 to see something we can see in everyday life. If we want real life, we can watch the endless supply of reality shows on TV for free. Although I remain unconvinced that the cast of "Jersey Shore" actually exists in real life. And if they do, I would think there would be a far larger number of people depressed about the fact that they do exist than the fact that Pandora doesn't.

He Got Engaged

After two years of wanting to believe he meant it when he said he loved me and knowing full well he didn't; after having to be the one to call it quits when I still loved him so much it made me crazy; after crying nearly everyday for a year; after waiting for him to come to his senses... he got engaged. I cried a little at first, I think mostly because I didn't know what else to do. The next few days I mostly just felt nothing. And then I began thinking about everything. This past year I have felt every emotion a person can possibly feel: saddness of course, anger and indignation that he dare not love me back, worthlessness for him replacing me so easily, regret that I ever gave so much of myself to someone who so clearly didn't want it. But I did something else this past year besides cry. I really looked deep into myself and remembered who I am and who I want to be. I don't want to be the kind of person who settles for less just because that may be all I'm ever offered. I want to be a good role model for my son and teach him the importance of valuing each other and showing compassion. I also want to show him that while making the right choices is sometimes the hardest thing in the world to do it is always worth it. And yes, he got engaged. But I got something great too. I remembered that I am a good person and I got a little self love back. So I will no longer regret having met him or letting myself get lost in him, because sometimes the worst paths you ever have to walk down lead you to the best things you may never have found. It also makes me feel better that his kids will probably be red-headded bean poles.