Friday, January 20, 2012

TIME CHANGES ALL THINGS


I was awfully young & stupid when I got married just 1 month shy of my 21st birthday. Did I say stupid? Let's add 'naive', 'wimpy', 'spineless', 'timid'. Get the picture? I am noticing a world of difference between now & then. Then, I couldn't have brought myself to use body part terms as part of a normal conversation with the spouse. I wouldn't have wanted to disagree for fear that, I don't know, his affections might diminish? I want to be the kind of person he wanted. I didn't assert my own personality too much, not that I had much of one anyway.

Okay, maybe I exaggerate, but not much.

But with HS, time and a boatload of life experiences have made all the difference in the world. I'm not the same person I was all those years ago, and neither is he. I was still in the whole 'image', 'fitting in', acceptance', 'wanting to be liked' phase of my life. Of course, I still want those things. Who doesn't, but they are not the focus of my life anymore. It's odd to remember that, back in high school, neither of us looked at the other with much interest. And if we could go back in time & tell our high school selves that we'd be together in 35 years, we'd probably have said "No way, nuh uh!" And now, I don't want to think about life without him.

One of the best things is the easiness of the time we spend together. Silences can be comfortable. I don't have to worry about him seeing me without makeup. I don't have to be self-conscious about the wrinkles or rolls. I can belch. Still can't fart, but that's another post. I can disagree with him. Haven't really come across a subject that is too embarrassing. Heck, I even used the word (male appendage)** in a pretty entertaining conversation the other day.

Isn't getting old GREAT?
Oh stop, I can hear you snorting from here.

**Can't use the real word here or I get hits from perverts coming to my blog after googling some nasty stuff.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

MAKE YOUR WORDS SWEET.....


... for you may have to eat them.


http://www.softwarenewsdaily.com/2009/12/eat-your-words-americans-consume-over-100000-words-a-day

I have been munching away with great relish, amazement & just a bit of
trepidation for the last few months.

The time is 7 or so years ago.
The place is my old office at the college.
The conversation partner is my dear friend and colleague.
The topic is men.
We are both divorced and dateless.

"I don't care if I ever get married again. I'm getting old & crotchety & set in my ways."

"I know. I'm fine the way I am. I can eat when I want, sleep when I want,
go where I want, whenever I want. I don't have to answer to anyone."

"And my house is too full of crap as it is. I don't want anyone else's stuff in here."

"But, you know, it would be nice to have someone to do things with."

"Yeah, someone to go to dinner & the movies with."

"But not someone here all the time."

"I kind of like being on my own. Don't have to answer to anyone but myself."

And on and on... sour grapes... ad nauseum.
But it was true.
After many years of being on my own, especially now that BS is grown & out of the nest,
I had fallen into a rut of complacency.
Wouldn't use the word 'contentment', because I was lonely a lot.
I'm not a social butterfly. I don't go to bars,
so most evenings I was at home, by myself.
Me & my laptop.
Me & my television.
Me & my books.
Hadn't had a date in more years than I want to admit.

(Please take a moment to wipe away the tears of sympathy rolling down your face. I'll wait...)

Don't get me wrong. I have family in the area. I have friends.
But no friends that I could call on the spur of the moment and say

"Let's go get something to eat",
or
"You wanna go to a movie?"

They are either married or non-local or not very good about returning calls.

But, in April, all that changed. Because of Facebook.
I'm part of an 'us' instead of just 'me'.
And now, my house is full of more stuff.
I cook dinner... occasionally.
Some mornings I even pack his lunch.
I check with him before I make plans.
I greet him at the door... usually... when he comes home.
(fully clothed - don't want to scare him away - and no, I don't wear pearls.)
And I'm very happy about all this.

But, you know, after 20+ years of being on my own and stubbornly independent,
this will take some getting used to, and I'm thinking it may be a comedy of errors on my part...

...navigating the waters of couplehood again.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

MAKING ROOM

BS was home recently & his momma rejoiced with song & dance.

One of the tasks he set for himself was to shovel out his room & sort & toss & pack. Well, that's what he SAID he was going to do, and he KINDA succeeded.

A little more than 3 years ago, I posted about cleaning out the house. Didn't work very well.

You see, over the years, more stuff has crept into my house during the night & when I'm at work, because I swear it all wasn't there when I went to bed. When my beloved aunt died, some of her stuff snuck in. Then when my mother downsized her big ol' house for an apartment, it happened again. When BS came home from college, he brought several years worth of independent living with him. When he moved to the big city, he found (what to him were) plausible reasons that he couldn't take it all with him, so here it stayed. Add to that, I have found concrete and tangible examples that inanimate objects are capable of spontaneous generation, occurring in various hidden corners of the house.

I swear.

This could make the science journals. Add to that my almost-complete lack of domestic skills. As a result, my little house was stuffed to the gills with STUFF.

Enter HS & more STUFF. And not even all of his stuff, because most of his stuff is still in a storage unit. I have a storage unit full of stuff too, but I don't want to talk about it.

Right now, HS's stuff resides in the dining room. At least, I think it's a dining room. Can't really tell anymore, not that we ever did much dining in there. We're more the 'eat-on-the-sofa-and-watch-tv' kind of people, but nevertheless, the room is there. And it even has a table. And chairs. And what's a table for but to use as a receptacle for STUFF?

So, I take bags into St. Mary's for our semi-annual yard sale. I wade through piles of paper. I even tossed out a whole lot of my old college materials - handouts, lecture notes, old class notes. That was hard, as I have also posted about how much I wanted to teach again (here, here & here). But, no. Have I even looked at it in the last 2 years? No? Out it goes! Anything valuable is on the computer anyway. HS is demonstrating great patience as I try to turn from a pack rat into a minimalist. Good luck with THAT!

Baby steps, folks. Baby steps.

ANNOUNCEMENT:
The gentleman who was originally known as BB (Beloved Boyfriend), who then changed to HS (House Stud) at the suggestion of one of our twisted classmates, decided that he liked BB better after all, but then I proposed another that he likes best of all. Since he loves the mountains, used to live in them, and wants to again, he is going to be the Mountain Man, or M&M (since he loves chocolate too). So.... ANOTHER NAME CHANGE! Hopefully, this will be the last one.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

HERE'S TO FACEBOOK


This is my old high school:


http://www.kellamhs.vbschools.com/

Spent 3 years there.
At the time, it was the only high school serving the entire southern half of the city.
We had so many students, we had to go to school in shifts, 8-2 and 10-4.
There were all the usual cliques - jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, ROTC, brains...
you know, because you had them too.
We were all overly concerned with image, with being liked, with being cool, with fitting in.
What idiots.

What does this have to do with Facebook?
Up until a few years ago, I saw all my old classmates only at the reunions,
secretly glad I didn't look THAT old.
Up until a few years ago, I had kept in touch with only a couple of them,
and those were cherished friendships.
Up until a few years ago, I remembered them as they were in school.
But then, something happened.
Technology crept into my world.
It really started with BS (beloved son) begging me to join Facebook so I could do the farm game with him.

"Oh puh-leez! No way."
"Come on Momma. You'll like it."
"I don't wanna. Facebook is stupid."
"It'll be something we can do together.

(Good grief, did he have to go and put it THAT way?)

And back & forth it went.
I resisted for a few months, but apparently I have the spine of a jellyfish.
So, there we would sit, at least when he came home for visits, mother & son,
side by side on the sofa, each with our laptop, tending our farms.
Quality time, doncha know.
If any of you are considering playing the Facebook games, DON'T!
STEP AWAY FROM THE ZYNGA!!!

But while I was glued to my cows and chickens, harvesting my crops, a funny thing happened.
I started hearing from some of my old classmates from school.
Some of them were farming buddies, others intermittent chat buddies.
We even planned some casual get-togethers.

And you know what?

Well, other than discovering some will-power to 12-step my way away from the farms,
I discovered something about all those classmates.
Time becomes the great equalizer.
35 years later, the cliques are gone.
Our image is pretty much the same - wrinkles, bags, sags, gray hair, no hair, bulges and rolls.
No one really gives a flying hoot what the others think any more.

Granted, some of these classmates were virtual strangers to me.
I hadn't known them well in school, but since the masquerades of youth had melted off,
so did the foolish blinders fall away.
I discovered a treasure trove of wonderful people.
People I might not have wanted to be friends with in school,
being the spineless twit that I was,
ended up being people of humor, intelligence, wit, kindness, generosity...
What is it about youth that prevents us from seeing those qualities before?

Maybe because those qualities take time and life experiences to refine?
Maybe because it's hard to recognize qualities in others when they are
sadly underdeveloped in ourselves?

Life does that, I guess.
Reinforces the truth that youth is wasted on the young.

For whatever reason, we can be friends now.
There is little awkwardness.
There is an instant connection of shared history,
shared people,
shared teachers,
shared experiences.
It creates a bond; a fellowship; a camaraderie.

I can cherish these people now.
One in particular, especially.
Facebook brought me together with the love of my life.
(I mentioned him in my last post.)
I knew him in school, but didn't really know him all that well.
Our separate lives have brought us each to a place and time that,
where we probably would have scoffed at the thought back in school days,
now I see the utter beauty of the man I couldn't have seen in the boy.
And I look forward to being able to appreciate that for years to come.