Author Archives: debaucherysoup
“I’m not in love …”
Which is a really silly title for this particular blog post considering the rest of the lyrics, but lets just put that aside and focus on just those 4 words.
A dear friend once (not so very long ago) sent me these words:
“The great wonderful Amanda (where do keep the hearts and souls of the men you collect)?” Ouch.
This was painful on a few levels. 1) I deeply care for this person. 2) I don’t go around entering relationships with the intention of cruelly ending them for recreational purposes. 3) Apparently I had hurt someone.
Here’s the deal. I watch romantic movies and I’m pretty sure I want that. I do!
I want the speech Meg Ryan got at the end of ‘When Harry Met Sally’. I cry every time Harry ends with,
“And it’s not because I’m lonely, and it’s not because it’s New Year’s Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible”.
I want the car to pull up with my suitor holding up flowers and an umbrella like ‘Pretty Woman’. I want the fairy tale.
I want to have my Holly Golightly moment when I realize I don’t have to be caged to give my heart.
But I have not found the person I want those things from.
I have never truly had my heart broken, I have never mourned for the loss of a relationship and I have never had that kind of love. Well – perhaps that’s not fair. I have never felt that kind of love.
To be honest, it’s only been a couple of years since I’ve been comfortable enough in my own skin to be capable of offering anything of substance to someone else. I can’t begin to describe how much the term: ‘You complete me’ drives me up the wall!
How, in the world, does one expect any success in a relationship when one enters it ‘incomplete’? I would hope to offer my whole heart to someone who also has a whole heart. I would hope to offer my serenity, contentment and love to someone who also has that. A partner that compliments, not completes all that is me, who brings differences and experiences to the relationship with their uniqueness.
There are many reasons I won’t go into for my lack of success when it comes to love. Trust me when I say that events occurred to a little girl, a teenager and a young adult that should not have.
Lately, I’ve been noticing happy couples. There is a beautiful woman at work who after decades of marriage is still SO completely in love with her husband. She exudes happiness (which came first I wonder? The happy chicken or the love egg?).
Then today, I bumped into an older couple at the store that I did a loan for. We chatted a while, and my heart swelled watching them finishing each others sentences (NOT the same as ‘completing’ each other people!) – I swear, the lady’s eyes literally sparkled when she looked at her husband. Dreamy. Absolutely dreamy. Of course, I had to point that out to them, which brought about more sparkling from both of them.
I want that. I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who makes my eyes sparkle. I want a best friend to hold hands with, to laugh with.
It’s corny, but when I was younger, I used to imagine what New Years Eve 1999 would be like.
I’m getting ready, putting on my earrings as I smile peacefully into my vanity mirror. I can hear my husband telling the dog to quiet down and greeting the babysitter. I hear my children running around downstairs squealing with delight because the sitter is here and they’ve just been told they can stay up late. My husband walks into the bedroom as I stand up and smooth my party dress, we exchange a secret smile. It’s date night with the man of my dreams.
He never showed up.
I do have the dog – and I do own earrings. I also have an amazing son who is the only man I’ve ever truly given my whole heart to.
But I think I’m almost ready for more. I think there’s still time for a ‘ever after’.
“Morning has broken…” (I didn’t do it!)
I loved that song as a girl.
I’ll pop it in here for you younger readers, because I honestly can’t remember the last time I have heard it in my adulthood without hunting it down.
Eleanor Farjeon (a lovely British writer) wrote the hymn, then Cat Stevens (AKA Yusuf Islami, AKA Steven Demetre Georgiou) introduced a ‘few’ more people to it.
The point of all of this is a counter attack on my initial grumpy mood as my alarm went off at 6:30 am on a Saturday. (5:30 am for you on who actually observed the time change on the West coast).
I WILL be happy. Damn it.
And now I’m singing this song in my head and being very grateful for ‘morning’ which almost got a good kick up the arse instead. That counts double for Butters who sat and stared at me after I hit the alarm ‘off’, insisting that “no, it can’t possibly be Saturday? I heard the alarm, and please get up so that I can take you to the front door and then not really have to go out after all”.
I digress.
Good Morning everyone.
Adding a morning shot of an official ‘Early Bird’
Then my early bird left – I think he was off to grab a cup of coffee. I get you early bird, I get you.
A Necessary Truancy
“Is this Amanda?”
Yes.
“I have your son in the health office – he says he has a headache and is nauseous”.
(refrain from asking if she means to imply he’s making others feel sick, you grammar nazi! Besides, there are now two definitions for ‘nauseous’)
“Would you like to speak to him?”
Yes please.
Nic get’s on the phone.
Me: What’s going on?
Nic: I don’t want to be here – I’m having a really bad day”.
I’m seeing this in my head:
And this too:
OK.
Honesty really racks up the points in my book. Honesty will earn you respect, and today earned me using my lunch to leave work, drive to his school and collect him.
I didn’t need the details yet, he told the truth and from the tone of his voice I got it.
Sometimes, we just want to go home. We’re done. We want comforting and to be surrounded by comfort.
I pulled up to the school and sprung him. I got the scoop about what possibly could have ruined his day in the whole hour and 20 minutes he was there. I won’t share the details – that’s not fair to him, but suffice it to say – he was in fact having a pretty crappy day.
Yes, he needs to learn to ‘decide to be happy’ to ‘soldier on in the face of adversity’ and to ‘not take things so personally’. But he’s 17. I’m in my 40’s and am still honing those skills.
When you’re a teenager, sometimes it does feel like your entire world is crumbling down around you, and you just want a time-out.
I am SO very grateful that my son can be honest with me. Oh, I know. I’m not so naive as to believe that he tells me everything, and nor should he. But when it really counts – we’re close enough that he trusts he can tell me the truth and not regret doing so.
Our ride from his school to our house was filled with conversation, observations, lessons and advice. Of course I stressed the importance of not missing anymore school – about not letting people ruin his day. That he can’t run away from every problem. About resentments – how futile they are. Metaphors flowed. “Nic, resenting them is like taking poison and expecting them to die!” Concerns were soothed, smiles were exchanged and I felt so very blessed.
No. He’s not my little boy anymore. No, I can’t save him from the world. But today I could give him a chance to regroup. To feel loved. To take a breath and collect his thoughts and I could take a rare opportunity to share some wisdom and experience with him.
When my grandson or granddaughter calls him years from now having a bad day, I hope he picks them up. Figuratively and literally. And I’m pretty sure he will. Because this young man who I am so lucky to call my son – is a kind-hearted, sensitive, funny, bright, loving soul.
All that being said, if he hadn’t told the truth, his butt would have stayed at school. 😉
Bonkers!
Stop it!
No, I didn’t create the word, and I’m certain I’m not the only one who uses it – but for the past year I have been the only one I’ve heard that says it on a daily basis. OK, so people around me have started saying it, but that’s sort of adorable.
For over two years I’ve been substituting other colorful words and phrases with such gems like: “That’s bananas!” “Cheese and rice!” “Bonkers!” (My sentences used to be peppered with a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush).
But I digress. I’m innocently sitting here this morning listening to the news and a story about McAfee, who has abandoned his mission to protect our operating systems for hiding in the sand, was just described as “Bonkers!” by an anchor!
Next thing you know, Justin Timberlake will be singing,
“I’m bringin’ bonkers back, (yeah!)” And he might just be cool enough to get credit for it too!
‘Bonkers’ was carefully wrapped in tissue, surrounded by polystyrene peanuts and placed in the back of a vocabulary storage container in a very inconspicuous box. I was the one who carefully retrieved it, getting spider webs in my hair while tripping over other words like: ‘gnarly’ and ‘plethora’.
I almost took Seth McFarlane to task after seeing ‘Teddy Bonkers’ in an American Dad episode … trying to bite my style! The nerve!
I call shenanigans!
And before you say “I use that all the time!” I say to you “La, la, la, I can’t hear you!”
It’s Bonkers I tell you! BONKERS!
I spy with my little eye … Me! Eek!
It has happened. That next age leap acknowledgement.
You know how other people notice more when someones child has grown, but the parents are pretty much oblivious to the minute changes as they see them on a daily basis? It’s really not until a photo jolts you into acknowledging it, or you just suddenly catch sight of them in a different light.
It happened to me today. But it wasn’t my son.
I was suddenly OLD! Well, old-er anyway. I saw myself, not as some photos tell me I look, but as I really must look.
There’s a HUGE mirror on the wall right before I turn left into my office. I glanced up deep in thought and caught sight of me – as, well … me!
The videos on my ‘Debauchery in the Soup Aisle’ post were weird enough for me to watch, but to see ‘Amanda in her 40’s’ was quite sobering. (And that’s saying a LOT considering I don’t drink).
I went from this:
To this: (I’m the one on the very right)
To this: (That’s my best friend on the left by the way – she’ll be dragged into the blog at a later date ;p)
To 43:
To THIS today! (At 43 1/2)
Have to admit, my hair is looking cute LOL! Loving the tendrils.
Now, I don’t spend a lot of time looking in the mirror, so the experience was jarring to say the least.
But! As my mom has always answered to “what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“A very old lady!”
Sure beats the alternative!!
Guess I really should rethink the whole waiting a while before entertaining the thought of finding a soul mate … before I prune completely away!
Debauchery Soup 