the Soloist

Shamefully at this age and stage in my life I have no long-term remarkable friendships to report. I can't babble on about the religion of girlfriends and the salvation they provide. I don't have any long term, thick and thin friendships to speak of; I'm almost certain that I never have.

My childhood while wonderful was mostly a blur of multiple transitions from one elite private school to another. My mother was fixated on this obsession with finding the "very best" education her money could buy. Once she discovered the smallest of deviants from what she pictured as "perfection", I was hulled off to the next best private school. From kindergarten to 9th grade I attended a startling nine different private schools; that’s nearly one of each year. Once I was removed from a prestigious Catholic Girls School because I jumped in the car beaming with excitement... I had just learned and memorized the Sign of the Cross... The last time I saw the school and my classmates was that day in the rear view mirror of my mother’s midnight blue Lincoln.

Needless to say developing and keeping lasting friendships under the circumstances was a challenge. I never really thought about the missing social dynamic of friendships it too much until I moved to DC. I guess being so from home, family and the familiar opened my eyes to the gaping void. Self preservation is the human instinct and it only makes sense that I just grew accustom to keeping friends at bay, compartmentalized within an arm’s reach. Never letting anyone too close yet keeping them close enough to frequently exercise my social butterfly tendencies. Oddly enough I am definitely the furthest from any loner characteristics; frankly I thrive on chaos, crowds and noise. I was born with a “Big City” personality misplaced in a suburban Mid-west town.

I’m going to share something that is just awfully ridiculous and frankly all to telling of my inhibited friend-making skills. I seriously cried enormous crocodile tears when Sex and The City ended… I spent six years and ninety-four syndicated episodes developing sacred friendships with Carrie, Charlotte, Maranda and even the infamous Samantha; they were my very best sudo girlfriends… To this day I believe if I ever find the luxury to enjoy cemented friendships, it would look like the lives of those four.

It is rather funny how I can in one hand be the polar opposite of the force of my nature. I’m no stranger to being the center of gravity in every room. I LOVE people and I definitely have away about myself that inherently tends to draw a crowd.

I am a metaphoric Soloist… My life is a performance among but quite alone; not combined with other parts or persons of equal importance; not concerted. Alone; without a companions or partners; I am a soloist.

The terribly, awful, ridiculously, obnoxious life...

I need a new life.


Don't get me wrong, I don't mind hard work or even harder work for that matter. I'm just tired of fighting an up hill battle, blindfolded walking backwards on a slippery sloop... No really, no exaggeration THIS IS THE CURRENT STATE OF MY LIFE!


I'm not looking for a new ability to afford Birkin's or more Chanel; just paying the bills timely and not having my hard earned money farmed out to unidentified extracurriculars would be particularly appreciated! Please and thank you.


I'm done, THE END!


P.S. I put "Banks" up for sale on the eBuy auction block... Currently accepting the LOWEST bidder...

Love letter to my cheater...

I used to believe you loved me;

I used to believe I was the one.

I even used to believe I was the only one.

I used to believe you would save me;

I used to believe you needed me to save you.

I wanted to believe at some point "this too would pass".

I used to believe if loosing me, losing the kids you'd never let it be!

I used to believe it was a phase

I used to believe I wanted to survive for the greater good.

I used to believe there was good in you;

I needed to believe deep down inside you believed in you…

I used to believe but now I don't...

No need to believe you boo; because now I see you for you...

All I believe is you... are a cheater.

WHO

The philosophical question of who am I baffles most. As I look inside myself and truly explore my own thoughts, beliefs and desires is when I truly accept who I am. I’m not one much for doom and gloom; I don’t know how to completely lose it. In the darkness of adversity, I pick myself up, dust off and keep it moving, that’s who I am. Yes, I have my momentary falls where I find myself unconsciously stirring around in a murky depressive state, yet my soul is so pure it just can’t be bound by the demons that want to hold me captive. I am idealistic to a fault, I love hard with every fiber of my being and I see the good in most, even when they can’t find it within themselves. I’m crazy romantic and I will risk it all for the greater good. I’m a wild soul on the inside that craves the control of a strong hand. Something can become my everything at a moments notice and even in the exact second it has been ripped away I never give up believing in my instincts. My loyalty is unwavering and never ending, my trust is unconscious and without conditions. The right thing, the right moments leave irremovable impression in my soul; impressions that steer my judgments and guide my heart. In my darkest hours, those impressions shed a brilliant light that guide me safely back to my course in life. I am strong, I am powerful beyond measure. I am ingenious and inquisitive all at once. I get that I’m emotionally needy but my unconditional giving outweighs these faults. I am strong but not stronger; I want to be in the shadow as the backdrop. I’m a leader who is comfortable being lead by wisdom, strength and security. I’m not searching for the answers; I’m waiting for truth. I live my life each day knowing that yesterday was a gift and tomorrow is not promised. I am thankful, gracious and humbled by the soul that dwells within me because I know I am not all of these great and marvelous things without Him. I am me, and all that he wants me to be…

Neurotic Mother Syndrome…

     Okay I know I promised not to disappear but then I went and of course, true to my nature did it again! What can I say? My life is a puzzle that I have not mastered. There are too many pieces, too small and nothing seems to match up… I’m this huge personality that loves everything and everyone; I have these limitless thoughts and dreams and yet its hysterical how NOTHING and I do mean absolutely NOTHING ever goes according to my well thought out plan!


I’m not sure about the rest of you, but you know something I battle internally with the course of my life on a daily basis. I have these internal duels’ over whether my husband is a crack-head (figuratively speaking, of course) and if I should just have the common sense or maybe the gumption to finally get up, walk away and figure out my life on my own two feet. I battle over my wants and desires in contrast to what I “think” is best for my kids; because let’s face it, who the heck am I trying to fool? I have NO EARTHLY idea what is “best” for me let alone my kids; please, that thought alone borders on psychotic... I look at them and frankly I wonder if they will EVER manage to survive childhood under my régime; Good LORD!


On the other hand, I do OWN who and what I am; good, bad and indifferent. I don’t make excuses, not even to my kids. I have told them countless times; I’m not the expert. I’m the parent growing up alongside them trying to sort through and survive this complicated mess we call life and family… I may not always be right, but my intentions and heart are pure. I make HUGE mistakes and anyone who can’t admit that, has far more issues than I do. I love my family more than every breath I take; even on those days when I wonder how the HECK I will survive another second in this skin. Honestly, in the back of my mind on those days; I’m scared to death wondering just how screwed up they will turn out all at my hands…


At this very moment I just can’t manage past one moment at a time. I need to take baby steps right now please… Allow me to get through this week without having to banish my 13 year old to Military School; send my daughter into the perils of an eating disorder over the fact that I somehow allowed her to gain a whopping 29lbs. I might need to figure out how to convey to my 17 year old that I WILL love him no matter what and continue remind my 16 year old that no matter how far or biology I’m STILL HIS MOTHER! Lest I forget to teach my 7 year old that he is not the RULER of the family … and I wonder WHY I have Neurotic Mother Syndrome?

Oh Lord is it a New Year already?

New Year Same Old Drama, that’s my motto. Listen, I am just a realist and I would much rather spend time laughing at my idiosyncrasies, learning from my mistakes and making valiant attempts at becoming a better person than pretending my shit don’t stink! I can’t fathom how you can get more real than that?

Every birthday marks the beginning of my preparation for the forth coming year. I end every year on the foolish notion that the New Year is going to be my year; come hell or hot water I will achieve perfection! Remember now, I did admit it is a foolish notion and admittedly so only because even I have the gumption to realize my end of year rituals continue to grown gigantically out of proportion. Mind you I whole heartedly believe my part OCD part cult like rituals will one day generate a life of grandeur no matter how ridiculous. I’m already working on a strategy of manipulation to convince my husband he wants to re-paint the apartment right before the year ends. I’m more than obsessed with spending the last week of the year tossing out the old, white glove cleaning, revamping and reorganizing. Every year my attempts generate much less than the obnoxious yearning for what I believe to be “Simple Bliss”. When my attempts fail, I blame the less than pleasing outcome on some erroneous chore left unattended; and still I press on!

This year was not a game, I paid for reinforcements. The housekeeper came in tote with two helpers; mind you the apartment is just barely inching up to 1800 SqFt but somehow my enormous family can’t find it in themselves to keep the digs presentable and no amount of my titanic rages inspires them differently. Nonetheless, buckets, mops, and advanced cleaning tools in hand my saving grace arrived and went straight away to the task of “anewing” my cocoon. The crew was just the trick I needed in order to outwit all my island born superstitions and catapult me with preciseness into a Simply Blissful 2011. Perfection is what I fanaticize over with great detail; understand, my reality is more than messy, sticky, uncomfortable and just damn well annoying most of the time. Thank GOD I dream in full color HD!

I’m still holding out on the notion that my superstitious ways will bring me good fortune. Either way good things will blossom this year; I just may need to pull the weeds out my focal point pasture of Orchards, Lilies and Gerber Daises. I’m not afraid though; that’s the thing about me, I’m built to sustain. Even in the crap I’ve always managed to be that diamond in the rough; that’s my strength! Here’s to hoping I did not yet once again derail my path to ecstasy when I hired the help instead of rolling up my own sleeves and getting my hands dirty…

Is our legacy predetermined, or do we hold the power to change it as we go?

It’s amazing how a little bit of snow dampers much more than just the weather. The incredible DMV Blizzard of 2010 crushed my ambitions and left me silent in the process. That was a year ago, no more excuses left to offer; only the truth of it all...

With little more than naive idealism I assumed this journey of writing would be second nature and the words would simply pour from my thoughts all neat and orderly; moronic right? In retrospect I'm not sure why I though writing would be an effortless motion; I write well to a degree but in all honesty I definitely benefit from rigorous editing and rewrites. Well, again this is a journey spiritual and metaphysical so I will as I have always, learn as I proceed; that is my way after all.


Enough of the psyche let me bring you up to date thus far. I would revel in the ability to say I have suddenly found life and all that awaits me. That is just abstractly preposterous; the thought makes me crack up and sob all at once. Listen, I can say at least that I am thinking more about what makes me tick and why I feel this constant void. I'm human, flawed at best and believe me that bit of knowledge taunts me. I worry with incredible degree what on earth my children may carry away from their childhood and later become those defining moments that shape them as adults.

I wish I could find solicitude in the fact that I care and I do honestly cringe at the thought nearly daily; I’m just certain my caring is not enough. Who am I kidding, I'm a shell of a person that cannot manage to completely explain in any intelligible detail who on earth I am or what makes me tick.  Will my uncertainties inevitability embroider scars in the souls of my children then bond them to greater disappointment or can I manage inspire them to mold my self induced inadequacies into tools that transcend them to greatness?