Day 138: Move Your Ass or I'll Move it For You

Why do some people move so very fast and others prefer the interminable pace of a glacier? I do everything fast. I’ve always driven fast and have the traffic violation record to prove it. Sammy Hagar’s hit was practically my mantra before moving somewhere that a car wasn’t necessary. It’s not just my driving, however. I talk fast, walk fast and react fast. I’m quick to anger and a speedy, lightweight drunk. It honestly flabbergasts me when I’m walking behind someone who seems to have absolutely no schedule or future plan at all and I would rather detour from my route and drive a mile out of my way than to stop at a light or stay behind a slow moving driver. So why do some of us appear to have no place to go, nothing to do and no foreseeable schedule while the rest of us feel it is very, very important to get to, say or do things as quickly as possible?

It’s not as if my life is so meaningful. I’m not driving fast because I’m in labor or a volunteer firefighter being called to a big run. I certainly am not walking faster than you because there is something fantastic waiting for me. I just move fast because I want to get to where I am going. There is no real reason for it, but I also do not see the point in lolling about as if time has stopped progressing forward. Although I will say that every time I get stuck behind one of you pokey people it most certainly does feel like time is at a standstill. I am a big believer in moving your ass. Clearly, if you’re in the car or on the pavement you have a destination in mind so why not get there?

Stop moseying about and do not even think to slow down causing traffic to back up while you read every sign and house number because you’re not sure where you're going. I’ll tell you where you are, you're in my damn lane going 15 mph and about to get my front bumper up your tailpipe! This isn’t something I started doing on purpose, I just don’t like to saunter. This was exacerbated after seven years of living in an urban environment. We move quickly there and we are conscious of the physical space we take up on the sidewalk. If you want to see my extremely easy-going husband lose his mind, then walk four across on a busy NYC sidewalk. If you want to see me lose my mind, stand on the left side of the escalator or airport moving walkway. The right side is for lazy, stand here all day types, the left side is for those of us trying to get to the finish.

In addition, I also talk quite rapidly and tend to react according to instinct rather than carefully thinking a situation through. I can tell you after careful consideration of about 3.2 seconds that moving fast may not actually generate any positive results. Driving fast gets me speeding tickets and has caused a couple of notable road rage incidents. Talking fast confuses people. Thinking or reacting fast usually gets me into trouble. Walking fast is really the only fast moving action that has spawned any real benefits. Moving faster burns more calories and has kept me thinner than those people I'm constantly navigating around. It always seems to be that the people I’m trying to get past on the sidewalk are hauling around ginormous assets. Then again, I do recall that I once screamed “move your fat ass” at a rather skeletal-like model in mid-town during lunch hour. So maybe I’m making that benefit up, I don’t know, I didn’t really think about it.

Day 137: In the Wreckage of My Life I Find Happiness

I am Fall cleaning. If you’ve read my previous blogs you may know that I am kind of a slob. Fall or Spring cleaning for me is a bit more involved than simply deep cleaning or reorganizing. First step is to clean at all. Weekly cleaning is not something I do on a regular basis. I clean for special events and that’s pretty much it. Step two is to organize. Unlike my anal work self, I am not generally organized at home so I cannot reorganize until I’ve first initially organized. Once these two steps are complete then I can go about the business of deep cleaning and reorganizing. All four steps take somewhere in the range of two days to eternity.

My husband calls my particular brand of Fall and Spring cleaning "A.D.D Ame cleaning." I get easily distracted by one specific task and will work at it until it is perfect and beautiful and the wreckage piled up from the castaways is mind-blowing. I love the feeling of accomplishment a good seasonal cleaning gives me. I like that I make changes, moving furniture from room to room, rearranging pictures, throwing out piles of previously needed junk. What is the satisfaction caused by such a mundane task as seasonal cleaning? Is it part of the evolution of the change of seasons? There is a feeling of something momentous, like at any moment I might discover some unforeseen key to happiness.

For me, the change of season is always special. Even as a child I would get this physical anxiousness, an almost vibrating sense of expectation that kept me from completely relaxing. It is not an unpleasant feeling, just an overwhelming sensation that I can’t quite explain. There is no other time that I feel quite so . . . I don’t know, maybe it’s happiness that I feel. I love the first snow, the crispness of Fall air, that first hit of humidity and smell of flowers of Spring and the truly hot searing lick of the Summer sun on your skin. I get excited about change the way other people love comfort and familiarity. Change reminds me that life doesn’t have to ordinary and that no matter how bad or good something is, it can always get better.

Fall cleaning is a symbol of my need to not be boxed in or trapped. I like freedom. I like change. I like knowing that my life doesn’t have to be the way it is, that I am in control of the chaos and the trash and the potential for something better to emerge. It may take a bit longer and create a wide path of destruction in its wake, but my style of seasonal cleaning does get results and just for the briefest of moments, I get a sense of the happiness that has eluded me for much of my life.

Day 136: I'm Not as Cheap as I Look

Being a woman takes money. Just the general day-to-day maintenance costs a lot, let alone the extras that go along with girldom. I think that in breaking it all down and looking at it objectively, it becomes obvious that women should be paid more, not less, for the same work because of the expectations that go along with being a working woman. Also, in a male-female relationship a woman deserves more of the cash reserved for expenditures (regardless if she works outside the home) for the same reason. What the hell am I talking about you ask? Well, let me enlighten you.

As a woman, we face certain expectations, namely that we maintain a beauty standard compatible with the current trends. Each generation has their own standard, for instance before cosmetics were readily available, a simple powdering of the face and rouging of the lips and cheeks was acceptable. Hairstyles and clothing worked the same way. No matter what the available products, women were expected to use what was out there to fit the societal standard of beauty. Today, we expect shaven or depilated skin, hair tamed and smoothed with tools and products and freshly made faces utilizing cosmetics in a way that look like we aren’t wearing any. A company does not want to hire disheveled women. If you think this is a gross generalization, look around.

When we see a woman who does not pander to our beauty expectations we assume she is unkempt or making a statement. All this upkeep takes money, however, and no one seems to remember that. My razors are $27.00 for an eight pack of blade refills and I go through them much quicker than a man because I have a lot more surface area to cover. Cosmetics including toners, moisturizers, make-up, anti-aging products, hair products (again, we use more than men because we generally have more hair), blow dryers, curling irons and flat irons, jewelry, shoes and little things most men leave to the woman like birth control all add up.

You might argue that these items represent a choice, but do they really? As an employer are you going to hire a woman whose hair is frizzy, legs are unshaved in a skirt, face is ruddy and unmade? As a man, don’t you expect the woman to take care of her reproductive needs once the relationship becomes monogamous and you stop using condoms? Men can get by with three pairs of shoes, black, brown and sneakers. We really can’t. I’m not suggesting everything we do is a submission to a societal standard, we certainly agree to abide by them as do men, I’m simply pointing out that our standards cost a lot more money to maintain on a daily basis. If you don’t want me showing up looking like a slightly crazy, frazzled, rumpled blotchy mess, then I’m going to need my cosmetics and I don’t think it would kill you to recognize that I deserve a few extra bucks for my energy, or at the very least, when you’re in a relationship and not sharing bank accounts, spring for half the birth control.

Day 135: Fear - The Best Motivator There is

Fear. We are all so afraid and yet I wonder, what are we really afraid of? JFK said, “We have nothing to fear but fear itself” and yet we are a society bred on fear. Our religions teach us to fear God or at least to fear the consequences of our actions. Girls sometimes fear the disdain of their friends or loss of their boyfriends if they do not participate in certain behaviors. We take the safe road on vacations, choosing name brand hotels and restaurants rather than taking a chance on the unknown. We fear what our children or partners are not telling us, so we don’t ask or try not to hear what is said in their silence.

Fear can be crippling and yet we use it as a motivator or a threat to keep one another in line. How many times have you heard your parent or your partner threaten you with the “or else” option? Do this or else. Behave or else. Don’t do that or else. The manipulation of fear in this way has become so commonplace that we hardly recognize it for what it is. It’s a type of behavior modification and it is commonly used to encourage specific moral behaviors. Sex is a big deal, you have to be in love, only sluts do that – we teach young women not to be manipulated by over-excited boyfriends, but we are also guilty of manipulating them.

We monitor our own behavior because we are afraid of how we will look to others. The choices we make in life are not always the choices we truly want to pursue, but outside pressures can be oppressive and the consequences frightening. Maybe you really want the fried appetizer and dessert at dinner, but on a first date you don’t want to look like a pig. Maybe you’re gay, but it’s easier to just go to the prom like all the other kids and pretend to be one of them. Maybe you really truly do love the Harry Potter books and you’re a brilliant, Ivy League educated Army officer, but your wife berates you so you hide you love of teenage lit. Whatever your fear, it is most likely generated from those around you. We have nothing to fear, but the judgment and wrath of our peers and loved ones.

Day 134: Your Money or Your Life

Do you ever wonder what you would do with a sudden financial windfall? As a woman in my twenties I often lay in bed at night budgeting down to the last dollar what I would do with a 100K, a million, five million, etc. Insomnia allows for many trips down fantasy lane late at night when all but my mind is quiet. I don’t remember when or why I started on this particular path, but it was fun. I have not thought about it in long time, until tonight when I saw a movie trailer for a movie in which a woman is offered one million dollars, but if she takes someone else in the world will die. She takes the money, but it made me wonder how many of us would do the same.

Is their a dollar amount on life, and if there is how close to you is too close for it to be worthwhile? I doubt that if someone offered a person money and said that in exchange their sibling, parent, partner, etc. would die they would take it. If, however, it was only an acquaintance, neighbor, co-worker or complete stranger across the globe does that make it easier? The power of currency is almost too overwhelming. We place such great value on material goods, that somewhere along the way we began to believe that happiness is impossible without money. Cash will create happiness and if someone else gets hurt, then our happiness is worth that risk. Right?

I have often said, that while money may not buy happiness it certainly makes everything else much easier. Knowing the rent will be paid and family fed allows more mental energy to go toward the other necessities of life in the pursuit of happiness. When you’re poor in today’s society everything revolves around that fact and yes that means that very often we aren’t happy. So if we can agree that to some extent it is somewhat impossible to be happy when you are poor and don’t know how you’ll feed your children, I guess the real question should b what value do we place on happiness not on human life. I wouldn’t take any amount of money if I knew someone would die, but if you offered me cash, but said I would never find happiness what would I do?

I’ve never really been happy, at least not for more than short periods of time and with the exception of the last six years, I’ve always been poor. So yes, I think I might choose money over happiness, because that’s not guaranteed in life either and thus far, it’s kind of a foreign concept. There have been periods of happiness in my life and if you could ensure that I would be returned to that state then I might forego the money. Without that guarantee however, I might just take material comfort and the never-ending or fulfilled pursuit of happiness.

Day 133: Fantasizing Myself Into a Corner

You ever build something up so much that it’s almost impossible for it to live up to the hype? I’m doing that now and I am helpless to stop. With less than six weeks to go before I am reunited with my husband after a year deployment and six months since his two-week leave, I am fantasizing about it on a daily basis. I work the whole thing out in my head. It’s like a role play only I’m playing both roles and imagining the setting. This is a bad habit I got myself into years ago and it’s just stuck with me. I will rework a potential scene in my head to try to squeeze out any possible surprises. That’s the real Achilles for me, I hate surprises, both good and bad.

By inventing and rehearsing dialogue in my head, it’s a way to control the possible outcome. I am a self-confessed control freak and surprises do not fit within that picture. Unfortunately, constantly playing out a scene that is still six weeks away can only do damage. It takes all the spontaneity away and creates an expectation that may not be possible to meet. I love Jeff, I miss him more than I ever dreamed possible and these last six weeks seem like an eternity. The closer we get to reunion, the further away it seems.

Our separation has been a difficult one and the months leading up to it were not exactly the best of our relationship. There is a lot riding on this homecoming, but how do you keep from trying to be too much? In a way, it’s like a first date: the nervousness, the complicated wardrobe choices (you want to look sexy, but not easy), the unrealistically high expectations. I want it to be magical; I want to somehow find a way to express all the love, longing, desire and happiness I feel for this man and I want to be able to do it in the first five minutes. There’s a good chance that with an overly ambitious plan like that, the only thing I will succeed in doing is disappointing myself and freaking him out.

There is something strange that happens to you when you are apart from your love for so long, all the comfortable ease that you’ve developed in a long-term relationship starts to go away. I am nervous about reuniting with my own husband. How often does that happen? In the end I guess it really doesn’t matter how many times I play it out in my head. Real life is organic and emotion will likely take over, nullifying all my careful planning. As for the rest, well, he knows I’m easy when it comes to him so I can dress as sexy as I want to.

Day 132: Does Listening Mean I Should be Quiet?

I give a lot of advice. Well, no one has ever told me that I give too much advice, but I tend to find myself wondering if I talk too much and listen too little. Maybe I don’t know how to listen. Is it possible to just sit and hear someone out without saying anything in return other than “really?” “wow” and “I’m sorry.” I can’t do it, though I do try, but somehow it just feels like a discussion is warranted or an outside opinion to give a little perspective. I’m not always the best judge of my own behavior, so after a year of what seems like an inordinate number of serious discussions and confidences being divulged, I find myself wondering if I’m making the grade.

On one hand, I feel like people wouldn’t keep confiding in me if I were such a bad listener, but I do know I talk a lot so I worry. A friend told me that he talks to me when he needs my no-nonsense point of view. I’m like the Dr. Phil of my friends minus the ultra-conservative politics and stupid expressions involving animals and hunting. I am pretty common sense in terms of advice and I am able to see things both from an objective and subjective point of view. Unfortunately, I don’t always make the right decisions in my own life despite seeing the big picture. With friends, however, I think I’m able to give my opinion as such and not simply tell someone they are wrong – unless that’s what they need to hear from me.

That does sometimes happen. A friend might want me to be brutally honest and I think in those instances it works. The fear that I have is that in a moment of revelation a friend will need me to just listen and I won’t know how to do that. I care deeply about my friends and I want them to know they can confide in me. Sometimes, however, my own desire to have someone give me advice or flat out tell me what to do, infringes on my ability to just listen. So take this as a warning, if you need to talk or to vent I am here, but if you don’t want my take or counsel then tell me to shut up at the start. I’ll try to hear that request, but I can’t promise it will take the first time.