It's been a strange week indeed. I was "ambushed" at work on my lunch break the other day and its had me on a whirlwind ever since. In a place where I thought I had no voice, suddenly I felt crushed by the weight of every question you're not supposed to answer around coworkers.
Politics, religion, feminism, liberalism, Catholicism, activism, ism ism ism ism BAM!
what the hell just happened?
Someone uttered the words "and if anyone tells you that you're wrong, tell them they're just stupid."
I swear you could have knocked me over with a perfectly cliche, fluffy little feather.
I've been trying SO hard to make a difference, so hard to show what I do and why I do it, trying to justify the importance of the work I do and thereby, justifying my existence to a certain extent.
And all I've ever felt was the /whoosh/ of brick walls springing up all around me.
It started with a stranger's tale of tragedy. It blossomed into a crazy idea, it fizzled into conservativism and was somehow resurrected through the ghost of Eleanor Roosevelt whose words so often inspire my greatest achievements through her simplest quote: "do one thing every day that scares you."
It started with eye contact, then a hello. Then telling one person my idea and jumping off a cliff to see if it would fly. I fell... but with grace. I suppose it could have been worse. I was ignored, brushed off, written off, misunderstood and underrepresented. This is nothing new in life.
But then comes this hurricane, this left-field twister of "HOLYCRAPGOD'SHEREANDHEWANTSTOPARTY!" and then all bets are off.
Suddenly I'm the one receiving eye contact and hellos, cheeseburgers lead to the most random miracles before I know it, I wake up in the middle of a group of people -- GUYS, no less-- who want to hear what I have to say. Who believe in what I do. Who are defending me to ghosts they've never met.
It's a strange world. At the end, one of them said "I really enjoyed this discussion" and as he walked away all I could do was hold my breathe and wait until I burst into flames. I mean, that's what happens to girls like me, right?
Girls who are called "bitch" for saying no, for saying "you're wrong" for saying "you wronged me." Girls who say "no, I will not settle for your estimation of my abilities", girls who don't conform to societal norms of beauty standards and self-image ploys. Girls who dare to dream further than the horizon shows them and girls who are stupid enough to to keep running until they either fall off the edge of the earth, or come full circle back to where they stand.
I've been told a lot of lies in my life and I was stupid enough to believe them for too long.
It's been a strange week.
I went to three different doctors appointments, received the potentially "worst" news for my situation and couldn't be happier to know that the worst thing I might face is the best thing I could hope for to bring resolution.
I discovered that even once your hair stylist "chops it all off"... there's still plenty more hair she can claim.
I slept the whole night through last night... for the first time since 2007. For me, this is a major accomplishment. Granted, a legitimate full night's sleep left me with a massive headache and groggy feeling all day long, but maybe my body is just trying to figure out what the hell happened that it was able to finally rest.
I got home close to 9:30 tonight and really hadn't been anywhere amazing. I just wandered around one of my favorite stores for a few hours until they closed. I went there to buy a skirt. I walked out with pink satin sheets and a handful of closet organizing devices. There's clearly something wrong with me... :)
As proof, I came home and decided to do an impromptu photo shoot. I haven't done much art in a long time and while I've missed it, I realized the other night how much I need it too.
"He not busy being born is busy dying" ... I'm sure Dylan had no idea the extent his words would someday reach.
I thought a lot about the ambush conversation. About love, life, marriage, all my friends with husbands and babies. I tried to imagine what I'd be like someday if I were there again. I came up with two people.
Marilyn Monroe and Lucille Ball. I've got all the potential to be beautiful and famous... buried deep beneath a hurricane of DUMBASS that makes me walk into walls, trip on my OWN shoes, spill salsa on my white shirt and hyperventilate whenever I get within five feet of a cute guy.
I've had a prophetic glimpse into my future... it involves a lot of pizza. ;)
Not everyone makes a casserole dish look so classy as a hat. :)
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