September 22, 2011

A Brief Discussion on Love.

So I was searching this morning for the wave I feel when I know I'll have something to write.  I write to entertain myself.  I write to be honest about things that perhaps I haven't been honest about before.  I write to put things out there that I hope to be held accountable for.  I write cause sometimes, I have things to say that I feel should be said.  Otherwise, I write things cause I know my friends will read it and either laugh at me or hear my [passive aggressive] whimper for help.  But no matter what shape the composition takes, I know fully that what I say is just me working on what I see my through own pair of shades.  Fabulous shades that really accentuate my cheek bones.

So, when it's been a hot minute I sometimes find myself waiting for it; that perfect second when I hop on the forbidden fruit and can sift through the CZs and the diamonds.  My plan this evening, as Nico won't be home till late, was to feed Vienna, read her bedtime stories, put on music and write something- I just didn't know what.  Then the universe kicked in and serendipitously I jumped into the middle of a debate about Love.  With a capital letter. 

What is it?  Who can have it?  What are the pre-requisites?  Tangible?  Too damn big?  Universal? Subjective.

Frankly, I think it's an imperative and stupid discussion.  It must be had, this conversation that no one will fully agree on, that is never the same for anyone.  It must be had because Love is a dialogue.

So, according to my life, Love has been a dialogue with The Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come.  Nico's not one of the ghosts; he's very real, constant and alive and it's comforting to talk to him.  But I thank my ghosts- like Scrooge, after my interactions with them, I found my way.

Apparently this makes me Scrooge.

The Ghost of Christmas Past was a spirit with whom our dialogue started off young, hopeful and fresh.  It was a long dialogue that had a foundation of good, but eroded with the trepidatious and dynamic demands of late adolescence and the early twenties.  We just didn't know how to cut it off and so we dragged it down to its bones; much too prideful, too suspicious, too convoluted.  It ended in a very abrupt and cowardly manner and I've never been interested enough to say another word.

I try, now that I'm here to look back with a more nostalgic lens and it's slowly getting there.  It was, after all, my introduction paragraph- this relationship, this conversation that turned into a fight to the bitter end, and it did start happily.  The Ghost of Christmas Past appears in cameos in my night movies but in bizarre roles, with long weird hair, or in a place he'd never really be.  I chalk that up to the fact that there is no more any place for him in my life, and it is actually pretty awkward when my subconscious coughs him up from time to time.  That sounded worse than I meant and I do not intend to put anything negative out there for this person.  I don't really intend anything.

The Ghost of Christmas Present is a sad story and I do look back on this spirit with nostalgia and a heavy heart.  It opens with instant connection, clear and like you're so close.  You know those times you're on the phone with someone you know is across an ocean but due to the clarity of the call you feel like they could be down the street or upstairs?  This dialogue was strong and complementary and instant but it was  a clear call at a crappy time and he hung up on me.

When this spirit visits me, it's always with the open arms of a bear hug right before it closes with a start before it ever envelops me.  This was a very important discussion in my formative experience with Love because it taught me how much hold you can have on a person and how important it is to stand up to that role.  It taught me how literal it is for the epitaph 'there'll always be a place...' and it taught me what lack of closure really feels like.  Which is why this spirit is the Ghost of Christmas Present.

Then there is the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.  This is a spirit with a short story and was far from the most influential.  This Ghost was the precursor.  The one just before the conclusion; where you're starting to wrap it up.  The type of chat where no one truly invests because it begins with the knowledge that it'll be short.  We were both sides to the same dialogue because it made sense at the time and because we recognized in each other that we'd simply agree.  And when there was an awkward silence neither one of us redialed after the dropped call.

He appears at times when I need to be reminded that 'light' is easy.  That things don't have to be a big deal in order for them to make a difference.  This spirit clinched a spot in the trinity (trilogy?) because this spirit was the final component that made the vision complete.  Our few, short sentences made me appreciate light banter.  The trio-logue needed a light, non earth shattering layer to balance out the debate and hopeless desire to convince.  I needed this brief encounter so that I could chill the fuck out about all this and so that I could be who I am now- when it matters most- with my husband.

So, what is Love?  I think it's a dialogue that you can have with a person and with the world.  It's a give and take you have with yourself.  It's a song.  You cannot acquire Love- you cannot know it.  You can not give it or take it.  Love is an action.  It's an instinct and a sacrifice.  It's everything you've ever loved. Love is everything you will love.  It's shutting up when you know someone needs silence.  It's speaking louder when you know its just what they'd rather have.  It's fighting for what matters.  It's agreeing on what sometimes doesn't.  Love is laughing in the middle of an argument.  Love is having a temper tantrum.  Love is hectic and placid, and soft and dense.  Love is never the same on any given day between the same two people.  But it can be unconditional.  It is absolute, concise, and particular but has no boundaries or structure.  Love is what you are.

Nico is the concluding paragraph that leaves so much to the imagination.  That makes me come back wanting more.  That makes me go out and buy the book cause I know the author is working on the sequel.  Our dialogue is of Love in its funniest one liner, snippiest remark, deepest sentiment, its blaring silence, and it's finishing of one anothers sentences.  Nico's who I roll over to be closer to when I wake up from my dreams.

I needed to know when to say when.  So, thank you, Ghost of Christmas Past.

I needed to know how to deliver my perspective appropriately.  I'm sorry, Ghost of Christmas Present.

I needed to know that you can take it easy.  Cheers to the Ghost of Things to Come.

I needed to learn when to see the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I did the moment I first laid eyes on my husband.  It was just like Christmas morning.

September 20, 2011

"I Have Your Mama!"

You know who you are.  I've been abducted from my normal day to day activities for the past 6 or so weeks and I'm here to say that I'm BACK bitches.  I can't believe it's September, I can't believe I'm back to work, and I can't believe I'm back to being a size 2 (roughly).  I'm BACK BITCHES!

I've been a busy mama- I've barely posted, I've barely painted- I've been non-stop.  I have so many things to say, and I'm going to tell you a few topics on my mind so that I'll have to be held accountable and actually lay some letters down.  Enough of this crap- I gotta get back down to business.  Here is my proclamation that I'll be back.  Nay, here is my dedication to these topics that they will be written, praised and of course, some will be screwed to a wall.  A few titles/topics:

- How Stella Got Her Groove Back, sub-title: I have your mommy!
- The Gates of Hell (on Mama's Little Helpers)
- The One That Got Away; & reasons why reverse polygamy is not a bad idea
- and this last topic's been brewing over that past few weeks which I don't have a title for but that is roughly about when to say when, how much is too much, and when we're kidding ourselves.  It's still defining itself in my head; being filed down.
- Vienna has a cosmetic bag.  I'm not kidding- it's like a training bra...I mean, training wheels...

When it comes down to it, I'm not used to this new schedule- my whit and my highbrow quippery have been collecting dust bunnies and I'm ready to get in the game.  For now, I'll leave you with this: football season has definitely begun- I'll have plenty of time to write.

Hot Mama's definitely back.

September 7, 2011

Just a few pearls... and buts.

Hello world.  A few points of contention as of late that I'd like to simply put out there and allow for universal consciousness to do its thing.

1) I think it's quite lovely when strangers feel compelled to interact with my daughter on the fly.  It's sweet and Vienna adores the interaction.  Vienna is a pretty engaging little girl and with her darling moonstone blue eyes, how could you not?  But please refrain from grabbing her fingers or toys.  No offense, but I literally have no idea where your hands have been and as I stand there while you two converse, I'm in my own personal hell thinking of all the godforsaken types of germs you've just patty-caked onto my little girl.  I love when people find enjoyment in Pish, but it would be so much more enjoyable for me if I didn't have to remove Sophie from Vienna's grasp because a patron in the All The Ingredients aisle at Stop & Shop had to taint her toy.

2) Man-cations: as fabulously important to guys as our spa weekends are to us (and by spa I mean fabulously decorating ourselves to go schmooze and drink for free at the Miami Delano).  I enjoy being whisked away to Wonderland with my girlfriends for a kind of weekend that would make our college memories envious, and I also enjoy knowing that Nico gets his annual decompression by pissing away his virgin eyes and holiness in Las Vegas.  By all means- we are in our twenties still and need to wring whatever juice we can out of our lives.  But when it's time for my husband to come home could the hurricanes, and every other natural disaster for that matter, hit Antarctica for a minute so he can safely fly home?  Hey Irene, you were a dud of a storm whose only legacy left behind was a trail of passive aggressive electrical outages, cancelled flights, tepid fridges and none of us appreciated it.  Bob was way cooler.  

3)  Gerber, I for one am thoroughly impressed with the power your baby food prunes clearly have over infant digestion, but maybe you should team up with Huggies.  If you're going to make my kid crap four times in one day, I should get a discount.  This is madness.  I'd like BOGO on boxes of wipes as well.

4)  Employers- cheers to you for still considering yourselves "progressive" for allowing women to go on maternity leave.  And kudos to you for even being "flexible" enough to not fire us when we need to leave early once and a while for our kids doctor appointments or what-have-you.  But, if we are 8 minutes late due to an unexpected poopy diaper (prunes) or an unforeseen baby related spit up explosion- it's "totally cool" if you treat us like we're negligent employees without regard for our positions.  Totally cool.

5)  Crappy drivers, you are the bane of my existence and if you cause an accident with my daughter in the car, I'm going to whip you with my dipstick and own you with a swift verbal lashing that will most definitely leave a mark.  No buts about it.

That's about it for now.  These were just a few things that have been really chapping my ass in the past year or so and I figured that the world should know.  Those of you who agree with me should rejoice in knowing that my "viral" blog will inevitably spread the word to our offenders.
The Accused should consider this their verbal warning.

Mama OUT.