Now that I'm not on my psychotropic medications, my old moodiness returns sometimes. Like right this very minute. I believe I'll isolate until January - or isolate as much as possible given that next Monday night, my dad is picking Velvet and me up at the airport in New Orleans. I'll be plunged into a week-long Jamboree of Family Festivities. Wine will doubtless be consumed in mass quantities. We may even see my brother who somehow turned showing up for obligatory family events into something similar to a celebrity appearance.
In the meantime, I'll be pondering human sexuality and relationships. Not that I can discuss any of that on the blog because from the beginning, I made the decision to keep Menopausal Stoners rated PG-13 . I suppose what I said about Double Wide could be construed as R. It could be construed as mean, too. I didn't mince words about my opinion of ShatAKing either - but since I don't really know either one of them, the consequences are minor. Although there's still something going on in the King's domestic life if blog statistics are any indication. I have absolute confidence that his wife will manage things with sensible panache.
Anyway, I'm taking a break from Romance and getting back to goals for myself and my Self. My friend Bev down in Austin turned 50 over the weekend - which has reminded me that I have roughly six months to finish The Book. According to my personal standards, I'll never be a cool old lady without finishing the book. Being a cool crone tops on my list of personal goals, and crone hood is in sight. Fifty looms on the horizon.
I'm totally cool with turning fifty, but I can already tell that my perspective is changing on a lot of things - most specifically how I want to spend my time.
Tonight I watched Heroes with Velvet. I've seen it a few times with him before and haven't been particularly impressed - and next season will be dumber as the show goes straight into X-Men territory. I liked True Blood better, not that it was sophisticated entertainment.
I like snuggling under a cashmere blanket watching bad TV or good movies with Velvet. And one good thing is that even though I'm moody tonight, I don't feel like there's a hole in my soul or like something is missing from my life. I feel like there's work to be done and winter is a good time to get things accomplished since the world is asleep and waiting.
I've been throwing runes a lot lately since I do feel like I'm missing an Answer. Hitchhiker's Guide fans everywhere will be shouting "42!" at me. That's the ultimate answer to the question of Life, The Universe and Everything. I wish there really were a book of Bokonist Calypsos for me to read on moody nights like these - although I'm beginning to suspect it really is time to break down and read Paul Tillich's Shaking of the Foundations.
It's kind of like when Oprah (or somebody like that) asked women, "What would you do if you believed you were really beautiful?" What could I do if I really believed I am good? Certainly something to consider. Acceptance and Grace.
I felt grace once, a long time ago, one night after I just got out of the looney bin. I was manic at the time - thoughts racing through my brain like a million puppies chasing their tails - but every now and then a big rabbit of a thought would shoot through the crowd and into the clear. That was the night I realized I could exist in and of myself - not as a reflection of someone else and under someone else's authority and jurisdiction. Specifically that would have been my mom and/or dad and my husband - all of whom held my self esteem in their hands. If I had their approval I could live.
During those weeks when I first got out, I would stand in the shower writing my name on the glass door and watching it fill up and disappear in the steam. Now you see her; now you don't. It was one of my favorite things to do - besides sit on Fifth Avenue by Central Park right where one of the side streets intersected Fifth and pretend the cars were going to smash into me. It was just pretend, though.
I can tell my brain is falling back into an old pattern with Teiwaz (Stonerdate Dec 6) who I swear does not exist in real life but only as a character in my mind, along with the conviction that somewhere there is a person who can make everything okay - like falling into a life giving hug. As long as I believe there is a real person like that out there somewhere, then I suspect that romance in real life is doomed.
That's okay, though. Maybe there really is a person out there like that. Oh dear - it must be another Clap If You Believe in Fairies kind of night.
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