Forever Celeb (Something I don’t read but happened upon) posted an article called “20 celebrities who didn’t age well” ..while I agree that many of them didn’t, I also notice they are many over 50…which left me wanting, truly, to say Fuck You Penguin, on their behalf. Leave people who have lived a freaking life over in the spotlight the frick alone after 50! They earned the right to get old just like everyone else. Gah! Truly annoyed. Where does the media draw the line between popular press and completely invasive commentary? Personally, once a celeb hits 50, I figure they have paid any an all dues owed to the media fountain of youth and deserve to look like people again.
Pointing to things with 2 fingers and no longer capable of not doing it, without feeling dirty.
Referring to customers as guests and incapable of ever calling them anything else.
Noting where ALL the bathrooms are everywhere you go.
Calling Ketchup and Mustard “Condiments”
Referring to the day before your day off as “My Friday”
Calling your non-work clothes “Street clothes”
How not to back away from a Brazillian, thus preventing the Brazillian Cha-cha.
Never ever,under punishnent of death, admitting Mickey us anything other than 100% real.
On stage/Off stage
How to say “Thank you” in at least 5 languages (I can do 8)
The proper way to fold a t-shirt
Payday is on Thursday
Dry ice burns like a mother-fucker.
You pick up trash, immediately, with no thought at all.
The letters E and R said together still makes your ears perk up.
You STILL call them Alpha units.
Abbreviations you can never forget: ETO, ER, MK, DAK,
Por favor mantengase alejado de las puertas.
You know what E.P.C.O.T stands for
You know who Joe Rohde is
You remember when it was Gorilla Falls
You know what baked good is disguised as a meteorite and where to find it.
You know the male gorilla’s name is Gino, even though you were never allowed to tell anyone.
You know all the Tigers are female and neutered.
You recall the Chinese Alligators with sadness and humor, at the same time.
Here he comes, that winsome wave,
carressing lakes and shores.
Churning up the undertow
to see what clutters out.
Bits of treasure conversation,
that whole seek and ye shall find.
Yet, all he finds are bits of shell
roaring what he is.
You know, don’t you? That no one gets through life without bits that hurt when you think about them. Part of yourself and your life that are always somewhat pain. I have some too, and tonight they feel particularly painful. It is the reason I am awake at 3 am. I never pretended to be something more than I am, and yet, somehow I always hoped I would surprise everyone one day.
Thinking about Z is the way I torture myself sometimes. How it felt to get on a Greyhound bus and leave her behind. I almost died that day. My heart was in so much pain I did not let myself turn around. I didn’t turn around, but I heard her cry, and it is the sword I sometimes stab myself with. Wondering, even now, if anyone knows how hard it is to deny oneself the glory of self-pity. I could have taken her with me. Could have made her feel my pain and fret, as Z is always doing. See, my daughter is the type will put her feelings inside and not let them out, for others. My sadness over my marriage ending was not something she could have walked away from without creating her own guilt. She was not going to be that person. I refused to be that person for her to make feel better. Kids tend to become parents when their’s fall apart, and I knew I did not want that for mine. When I looked at the razor contemplating it as a way out, I knew it was time for me to heal myself. I didn’t leave because I did not love enough, I left because I loved completely.
Z is an amazing person. She has a spark inside her that I admire and recognize. It is the spark I once saw in my own eyes. She is very like me, my impetuous daughter. Full of this belief that even in darkness there is beauty and a way back into light.
When I think about my daughter I think about the things I am missing. I know she is ok, but I also know, that I am losing important things by being away from her. I am not a fool. A fool pretends not to know they have lost something. I know what I have lost, and I don’t really allow myself to take the easy way out. I have to live with my mistakes too. I do, and still I try.
Z is not in my life, but she is at the center of every single one of my happiest thoughts. She is the thing that makes my heart hurt. There is a saying by Winnie the Pooh that goes:”How Lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard”
I have other pains that I stab myself with, but this one is the one I cannot deny the truth of. I am not there for my daughter, though I know the people I love will argue that I love her truly and give all I can, that is also true, but I am not denying my truths. I lack the memories I would have had if I had stayed. While I saved the soul inside me, that Z loves, by going away.
I console myself with the knowledge that I love my daughter, despite myself and my many flaws. Love is like that, it loves even when we sometimes think we do not deserve it in return. Everyone has bits of painful. This one is mine.
I felt like confessing tonight, as sometimes I think I pretty up my posts and people might misunderstand thinking I have all the answers. I don’t have all the answers, I just have all the optimism and hope to keep me going until those answers make their way to me.
I think I can sleep now.
There is no finer point to fear.
Like cold lips pressed to your forehead,
it leaves no sense of comfort.
Why then do we cling to things
that make fear into a bed partner,
a soulless companion,
that only steals more from you
each day it walks beside you?
I’d rather chance the worst,
let the feared thing come,
let it rip, tear, moan,
leave my patch of heaven resembling hell.
For once the worst passes, there is calm.
In calm I can rebuild
and I am quite good at laying foundations.