Internal Conversation

Myself: you should blog more
I: yeah, you should
me: i should blog more. if i had a laptop i'd blog more
I: you're all about excuses. when's the last time you went to the gym? you're lazy.
Myself: yeah, you are lazy
me: i'm trying to get organized around here. remember "clear your work space" ?? New Years Resolution List #1. i can't do everything
Myself: don't be the victim, puhleez
I: yeah, don't be that girl
me: i'm not being a victim, but i can't do everything at the same time. i can do anything, but i can't do everything. at least i made new years resolutions this year. i wrote them down, i'm working the list. that alone is big for me. i'm working a list.
I: thought "blog more" was on that list
Myself: i remember "lose 30 lbs" that was on the list
me: i don't like staring into a corner with that new computer. i can't get my writers groove in that space. i need a laptop. i'm doing other stuff right now. i'll get to the blogging. for god sakes, give yourself a break. i'm eating breakfast almost every day. baby steps people
Myself: still, you should write. at least read something
me: i've reorganized and de-clutterfied the kitchen, redecorated both kids rooms and the dining room and cleaned out my closet for the first time in 6 years. i will blog when i get a laptop and i will read when i can get through more than two pages without falling asleep
I: reorganized the kitchen? really? come on, you reorganized MOST of the kitchen. redecorating the girls rooms is a work in progress. you'll never have the money for a laptop. nobody reads your blog anymore anyway. its boring. you used to be funny. you're not funny anymore.
Myself: yeah, you're not funny. wedding dress? not funny.
me: i am too funny. i'm freaking hilarious. and the kitchen is reorganized. redecorating is a big job. there's the painting and moving the furniture and new sheets for the bigger bed. carpet cleaning. it's a lot. it is a work in progress, but it is progressing. i've been reading that vampire book, doesn't that count?
Myself: not really. that book sucks. ha... get it ..vampire... sucks... i'm funny
I: now we've lowered ourselves to reading best sellers. pathetic. you don't deserve a blog. what's next? listening to top 40?
Myself: yeah, you blow
me: i do not blow, well i certainly don't swallow--see, i AM too funny. i'm taking it one thing at a time. for once in my life i'm starting a job, finishing it then moving on to the next job. no more half ass -ed- ness. i've been single for 6 years and it's time to take control. i'm not going to live like this anymore! this is my house! this is my life! i'm the only one who is going to be accountable for it. and this time damn it, i'm going to do the shit i say i'm going to do. and i'm not going to let myself talk me into a depressed little pity pit
Myself: chill sister. you're doing a good job. i just want you to write. there's that book in your head, if you don't get it out, you'll drink those brain cells away and not even know it
I: it's not a pity pit, i'm just trying to keep you real. the house does feel awesome. for the first time... ever. and the girls rooms look really good. who would've thought blue and orange? with purple? you totally rock. your ass is big, though
me: i know i need to get to the gym more often. for my ass and for my peace of mind. i need to write. i need a laptop. i need to read--actual literature, not candy bar novels. but hold on a minute... this is the first forward movement i've had in 6 years. SIX YEARS. and i have a guy. yes. me. i.have.a. man . like an actual man that lives in the same town i do and we see each other. it's a real relationship. he's not even an expat. officially, i mean. so give me a break. i'm not going to cower down to these little voices anymore. get onboard with the pep talk ladies. go me. go me. go me.
Myself: yeah, you rock. and you are funny, but this post isn't very funny
I: not too funny
me: at least it's a blog

Myself: not funny, though. you're just going to drive right past the gym, aren't you
I: lazy
me: bite me

the wedding dress

The universe decided to put me on a treadmill somewhere around mid october. by december 22nd, i was going full incline at about 5.5 mph. and i'd been there for about a week.

there are spider webs of all the little and big monsters that threatened to inhale me during that time, but i'm going to go down only one path: since it seems to lead somewhere.

i see now that it was test. god loves the holiday test on me. i crack Him up and let's face it, who doesn't need a good laugh at the holidays. my richter-scale breaking stress level tested my resolve not to flee. run for fun country. drown myself with self-indulgence and neglectfulness. in some ways i did. but in the important ways: i didn't. i held my ground and tread water, with my head firmly out of the sand, and walked through it.

i see now that i'm on another side. not the other side, that i keep thinking i'm going to, but just a different area. an other side.

the wedding dress made me see that.

i had leaky pipes. it's a whole blog unto itself: "my house, my beloved nemesis." but that's pantry stock in the blog drafts. i had leaky pipes. this is not a revelation to me. recently, my leaky pipes leaked into my closet. it's a big story with a short ending: a $750 plumbing bill and a moldy, nasty closet from ceiling to floor.

today the insurance adjuster came out to assess the damage and go through the formality of telling me i'm screwed. to uncover the full impact of the mess, i cleared out my closet. of everything. now, you probably have your own show on bravo and keep your closet rotated out with seasons, your sweaters uniformly folded resting on clean wooden shelves; you have a special drawer for scraves: but let me tell you: you ain't me. i had maternity clothes in cleaning bags. sweaters so long on the hanger there was a layer of dust on the crease. dust people. i had dresses i would never wear, but were given to me and so i kept them there: hanging.

the wedding dress took up the far back corner. where the brunt of the mold took hold.

the insurance company said to keep all the personal property that was damaged for the adjuster to see and properly tally the perpitude of my screwed-ness. so today, my 8ft walk in closet was totally clean for the first time since i moved in: save my wedding dress hanging on the long wooden pole. matted with black mold and water spots along the hem and up the back.

i went on vacation after christmas. the guy promised to take me somewhere. and the guy is always good for keeping his word. we spent four days together. it was a great time, but the thing was that it was time for me to be me, which is what gave me the clarity to come back. the treadmill came off incline, and then eventually slowed to a manageable pace. by jan 2nd, i was clearheaded and breathing normally again. i started surveying the experience, and saw the test. began thinking on the significance.

then today i saw the wedding dress. in an empty, molding, stinky closet.
and i realized how far away i was from the person who wore that dress.

i had a great wedding. it was beautiful. i was happy. everybody got drunk at the reception. it was absolutely anything and everything i wanted in big bad ass party. but the marriage: not so much.

i had a group of friends in college that became family to me. all of them were in my wedding. it was a given. even though i still love them like family: i have to admit that i really don't know them. i don't know what they order at mcdonalds. i don't know that outfit that they wear all the time. their kids would treat me like a stranger. our intimate friendship is gone. now we are bound by the sheer power of our collective experience. they don't know me either. and i am different than i was then. i see that now.

the wedding dress made me see that. i'm on another side now. it seems like the right place to be. for now.