This week has been an introspective one for me. I now find myself in the melancholy, soul searching haze that comes as an all inclusive deal with a confident and persistent intuition. At the risk of sounding like an under thought and over used political campaign...CHANGE is on the smog polluted horizon. There is a pungent crisp to the air, a vibration the sun gives off that runs through my skin, seeps through my bones, marinades my soul, and masters my mind. With the touch of a calculated Midas,the gift of golden reflection and the keen perception bestowed upon me by my just awakened senses-alert my being to the core that my jaded hibernation is drawing to a close. Squinting as I stride languidly from the shrouded fortress that has provided me with misguided comfort and a false sense of security for longer than I care to identify. I crouch-ears up, tail twitching-cautious, yet exhilarated by the hunt and nearly frozen in place by the shadowed unknown that lays in wait. Fight or flight instinct at full alert. My mind searching for the doors marked EXIT...my spirit digging it's claws down deep-prepared to be the last one standing.
As creatures of habit-often of bad habit,we tend to resist change. Uncertainty often carries the terror of the dream...the falling one. The one where without notice we are plummeted parachute and safety net free into the vast infinite air of the unknown. Never do we fall feather like with zen-like surrender...floating like an ivory feather dancing harmoniously with a warm spring breeze...waltz 2-3, waltz 2-3 until it fairy kisses the grassy green with its' billowy softness. No. We flail and grasp for any reachable stronghold. Groping blindly, at any vestige of familiarity. Nevertheless,gravity grips us in its' gnarled fist and yanks us toward what we believe to be certain calamity. Eyes showing nothing but white, we bolt upright, cold sweat beading our brow- into our reality. Still terrorized by the fear of the unknown that nearly swallowed us whole.
Still...change we must. The world doesn't care about your cold sweats and horror churned stomach...every moment things change...and if you attempt to stand still against it, you will blink one slow heavy lidded, burden wearied blink...and life will have skillfully stolen your queen and your game will be over.
Eleanor Roosevelt said "Do one thing every day that scares you." Change-frightens us all.Yet,there is no hiding from its' presence. I guess my final assessment is this, so often we cling, embrace, cleave to our current state-not because it is working for us, but because we are engulfed by the horror of the unforeseen. Still when you really give that anemic feeble theory the thought it deserves- We are all blind little cane-less, tail-less mice...all the more lost because we believe we know where we stand. Not to say that there are no certainties. How empty and bleak our existence would be without the steadfast belief, the innate hunger for that which is real and substantial and unchanging because in It is defined by It's perfection. But rather to say that stubborn, foolish resistance to change, or to be changed, or to cause change will inevitably result in regret,wasted time and a life unworthy of so much as an honorary mention.
Trembling in my new found steadfastness...senses heightened...courage puffing it's chest...Not only do I wait, but inwardly I search for the changes I have resisted. Those that I need to wrap myself around and those I need to be a force in (the kind to be reckoned with) ...Of course, being the uncontainable spirit, faintly couraged girl that I am...this won't be easily defined,acquired, accomplished or maintained. But then, what of substance is?
Change...When we are stirred from the safety blanket comfort we have hibernated in for far too long-roused by the aroma of what may, can and will be. As we fall toward the black pooled ground below, rather than being paralyzed by our lack of control-let's take a proactive, strategic view. Have our kicks on so we can hit the ground we will inevitably reach-running, our shields out and our swords drawn in preparation for the fight...and our arms thrown wide open in acceptance for the only certainty in life...
"Resistance is futile"
July 30, 2009
July 20, 2009
Because I Said So...
Even now, I cringe in remembrance..of asking my parents the unauthorized "Why?"
My inquiry being met with the vaguely ungratifying and final response:
"Because I Said So."
That was my signal that the conversation was over, that there would be no further debating or discussing. Finis...
Like a King's Decree...(the ones that were forever altering the measurement of a foot-ever consider the ramifications of that process? hahaha...No?!? Ahem-Me neither.)
" BECAUSE I SAID SO"
It WAS...it just HAD to be enough...even if an explanation or conversation would have received a heartier welcome-perhaps taught reason and mutual respect Even now,I wonder which of us was less justified in their actions,or lack there of. Was the conversation over because there was no reasoning with my child-like and later, my hormone-riddled logic? Or were my Parents so caught up in their authority that they couldn't see fit to provide what would likely have been a validating explanation. As I have previously stated, most reality lies someplace between the perceptions of our memories and the opposing extreme. Regardless, as an adult-I often think about how much smoother my life would be...if the universe took MY "I said so" as the final judgment. The result would be a bit bumpy, certainly splashed in vivid studio quality technicolor, a bit thrillingly and unpredictably risky...but smoother...At least for me.
If only I had the veto power of the definitive and masterful "Because I Said So"...I would use it sparingly...Mostly to better the world (solving conflicts, barbarism,dictatorships,illness,starvation,poverty,ending pain and suffering, curing disease...Items of consequence.Point made) but also to better my personal existence...just being honest. I would be a little selfish-but just a minuscule, nearly imperceptible pinch.
Starting with the obvious. After one clear, definitive line of explanation...(and an insinuated-Because I Said So)...ALL arguments would cease. Simple enough. Just imagine all the valuable time and energy that could be conserved that way...Enough time to sort and trash months worth of junk mail and suffer through two Springs worth of cleaning...OR to kick back and drink in the peace with the current issue of ELLE in one hand, sweet victory-tini in the other...I am most apt to select option B.(I am simply OVERFLOWING with surprise and mystery).
Also shush-ness on demand...*Imagining a little signal-like a sideways glance and dainty imaginary key toss-tink-as it falls into the depths of disappearance*
More problems solved by a Because I Said So...
The acceptance and embracing of fashionable lateness-up to thirty seven minutes...alright, let's call it forty two.
The increase of green lights en route to the location of my choice...Should go without saying, but this would ALSO necessitate the temporary absence of the men and women in blue- the ones with flashy-lights and sirens- not the rain or shine variety,uniformed in polyester shorts and white door-less Jeeps.Um...have you seen the white bee-keeper inspired hats? That is just cruel.
Coffee delivered to my door...scalding-steamy latte/or icy dew-kissed chilled frappuccino. Frothy,smooth- hot-or cold and made to order...via text.
Sinfully savory items like chips and salsa,Coca-Cola, pinot noir, fillet mignon, crispy,salty french fries,bubbly decadent chocolate souffles and pasta would be calorie and fat free...Why else? Um...Because I said so.
Money would not grow on trees, but rather-bushes...in the shape of roses and would smell as sweet (thanks Will.)Again, just in the effort of simplification. Economy catastrophe, rectified...lemon squeezy...
It would be against the law to charge more than fifty dollars for a pair of pouty pumps,sassy stilettos, strappy sandals, or brilliantly beautiful boots...to give a reason here, would be insulting your intelligence.
Bi-monthly Girls Night Out would be mandated. Bi-monthly shopping excursions, book store browses/mani-pedis definitely included in the mix -without necessity of official mention...BECAUSE...I sai-... don't really need to finish it, do I?
Music, art, theatre appreciation would be required. There would be a national media campaign...Culture-Get Some!...Basic sport knowledge is a given.
Chores like laundry,bathrooms,dishes,cooking,organization...anything considered a hardship for the Domestically Challenged...would only need to be done once...And then? Self-maintained...like...I can't think of anything...why must life be so high maintenance? Then I could focus my,attentions on more deserving endeavors like shiny, cushy, plush, savory and smelly,(in a good way..)
Dress code enforced. Regardless of where you live-sandals/flip-flops and jeans/shorts do not constitute Evening Attire. Sorry...
Closet space and vanities would expand as if maintained by adept carpenter man-pixies to fit my ever-changing needs...Also ANY mention of how many eyes I have to shadow, lips I have to gloss, bodies I have to moisturize/perfum and wardrobe, tootsies to shoe...Would be punishable by one week of chick flicks/Bravo/Style channel without complaint...Any sign of chagrin would result in an additional week of SHE-VO.
Boys worth keeping would sparkle with Cullen-like flair when bathed in the shiny canary iridescence of the noon day sun...("hideous" and shiny monster-like)and their sorry, ill-equipped opposition would show cloudy brown like the doody that fills them to their ears and sooner or later will spill out through their words and actions.
Every eating establishment would be required to have at least three decent red wines in house...reasonably priced. Oh and the home pour would be the national norm.
Naps and sleeping in would be worked seamlessly into the daily routine.
Complaining and whining will be tolerated under no condition and met with muted deafness and the arm...because talking to the hand is insufficient in this case...
Thinking outside the building-like the one that Elvis has left(not just out of the box)would be a decadent actuality.
Each of us would take for granted that we need to clean up after ourselves, both literally and metaphorically.
Only educated voters would be allowed to vote for the winners of political elections and reality shows...certified via online test? Can't be bothered with logistics now.
Kindness would be law...sarcasm taught,generosity and thoughtfulness innate, creativity,silliness/laughter and empathy not optional.
Dancing it out...would become the new national pastime.
Harry Connick Junior would tour monthly and my seat would be front, center and free of charge.
SERIOUS Fashion Violators would go to Style School (like traffic school) as their community service and would be aided by an expert glam squad...or Stacy and Clinton...whomever is on call that day.
Indulgence within reason would be encouraged.
Each individual would be committed to identify and share their gifts with those around them. And those who took more than their fare share of talent and ability would be forced to ration out the extra to the Gifted Impaired. Fair is fair...
As long as work was completed, vacation time and location potential would be infinite.
Everyone would have to read an average of a book a month and would need to select something not recommended by Oprah, Regis and Kelly,or the Ladies of the VIEW (anyone still watching that? Because...who's view,exactly? Also an assault to my sensibilities.)
Birthdays would be celebrated like they are in Katroo (via Seuss) with the addition of a Nordstrom Cosmetic/Fragrance counter and open bar...for partaking of and dancing on...of course...oh and live music by the band of my choosing.
Hair days would OBVIOUSLY be fantastic...so there would no longer be any need for the Good/Bad adjectives before "hair"...they would just be Hair Days.
Grey's would be on year round with only nine reruns allowed-to be aired on nights when I have other plans. Also, October Road would be brought back in the place of one of the 17 Crime Investigation Shows.
Sunny would not only be the constant weather forecast, but the only acceptable disposition.
If people lives come crashing down around them...cameras would not be permitted to catch the action for millions to view and judge in the name of sad and sadistic rubber necking...sorry, "entertainment"...?!?!
"Vegetarian Vampires" would actually exist-and live on my street...
List of Because I Said So's can be altered by me at any time without advance warning or outside permissions.
That was frivolously fun for me...hopefully amazingly amusing for you.
What would be on your list...Think about it.
Because I Said So...
Note to CJ:
This was merely the bouncy brain baby of your imagination-no one is required to take your whims(shiny as they may be) as law...
FINE!
So here goes-back to the dull monotony of reality and responsibility...and the "Because I Said So's" of the real world. Made and enforced (unfortunately) without my consent or approval...*Sigh*
My inquiry being met with the vaguely ungratifying and final response:
"Because I Said So."
That was my signal that the conversation was over, that there would be no further debating or discussing. Finis...
Like a King's Decree...(the ones that were forever altering the measurement of a foot-ever consider the ramifications of that process? hahaha...No?!? Ahem-Me neither.)
" BECAUSE I SAID SO"
It WAS...it just HAD to be enough...even if an explanation or conversation would have received a heartier welcome-perhaps taught reason and mutual respect Even now,I wonder which of us was less justified in their actions,or lack there of. Was the conversation over because there was no reasoning with my child-like and later, my hormone-riddled logic? Or were my Parents so caught up in their authority that they couldn't see fit to provide what would likely have been a validating explanation. As I have previously stated, most reality lies someplace between the perceptions of our memories and the opposing extreme. Regardless, as an adult-I often think about how much smoother my life would be...if the universe took MY "I said so" as the final judgment. The result would be a bit bumpy, certainly splashed in vivid studio quality technicolor, a bit thrillingly and unpredictably risky...but smoother...At least for me.
If only I had the veto power of the definitive and masterful "Because I Said So"...I would use it sparingly...Mostly to better the world (solving conflicts, barbarism,dictatorships,illness,starvation,poverty,ending pain and suffering, curing disease...Items of consequence.Point made) but also to better my personal existence...just being honest. I would be a little selfish-but just a minuscule, nearly imperceptible pinch.
Starting with the obvious. After one clear, definitive line of explanation...(and an insinuated-Because I Said So)...ALL arguments would cease. Simple enough. Just imagine all the valuable time and energy that could be conserved that way...Enough time to sort and trash months worth of junk mail and suffer through two Springs worth of cleaning...OR to kick back and drink in the peace with the current issue of ELLE in one hand, sweet victory-tini in the other...I am most apt to select option B.(I am simply OVERFLOWING with surprise and mystery).
Also shush-ness on demand...*Imagining a little signal-like a sideways glance and dainty imaginary key toss-tink-as it falls into the depths of disappearance*
More problems solved by a Because I Said So...
The acceptance and embracing of fashionable lateness-up to thirty seven minutes...alright, let's call it forty two.
The increase of green lights en route to the location of my choice...Should go without saying, but this would ALSO necessitate the temporary absence of the men and women in blue- the ones with flashy-lights and sirens- not the rain or shine variety,uniformed in polyester shorts and white door-less Jeeps.Um...have you seen the white bee-keeper inspired hats? That is just cruel.
Coffee delivered to my door...scalding-steamy latte/or icy dew-kissed chilled frappuccino. Frothy,smooth- hot-or cold and made to order...via text.
Sinfully savory items like chips and salsa,Coca-Cola, pinot noir, fillet mignon, crispy,salty french fries,bubbly decadent chocolate souffles and pasta would be calorie and fat free...Why else? Um...Because I said so.
Money would not grow on trees, but rather-bushes...in the shape of roses and would smell as sweet (thanks Will.)Again, just in the effort of simplification. Economy catastrophe, rectified...lemon squeezy...
It would be against the law to charge more than fifty dollars for a pair of pouty pumps,sassy stilettos, strappy sandals, or brilliantly beautiful boots...to give a reason here, would be insulting your intelligence.
Bi-monthly Girls Night Out would be mandated. Bi-monthly shopping excursions, book store browses/mani-pedis definitely included in the mix -without necessity of official mention...BECAUSE...I sai-... don't really need to finish it, do I?
Music, art, theatre appreciation would be required. There would be a national media campaign...Culture-Get Some!...Basic sport knowledge is a given.
Chores like laundry,bathrooms,dishes,cooking,organization...anything considered a hardship for the Domestically Challenged...would only need to be done once...And then? Self-maintained...like...I can't think of anything...why must life be so high maintenance? Then I could focus my,attentions on more deserving endeavors like shiny, cushy, plush, savory and smelly,(in a good way..)
Dress code enforced. Regardless of where you live-sandals/flip-flops and jeans/shorts do not constitute Evening Attire. Sorry...
Closet space and vanities would expand as if maintained by adept carpenter man-pixies to fit my ever-changing needs...Also ANY mention of how many eyes I have to shadow, lips I have to gloss, bodies I have to moisturize/perfum and wardrobe, tootsies to shoe...Would be punishable by one week of chick flicks/Bravo/Style channel without complaint...Any sign of chagrin would result in an additional week of SHE-VO.
Boys worth keeping would sparkle with Cullen-like flair when bathed in the shiny canary iridescence of the noon day sun...("hideous" and shiny monster-like)and their sorry, ill-equipped opposition would show cloudy brown like the doody that fills them to their ears and sooner or later will spill out through their words and actions.
Every eating establishment would be required to have at least three decent red wines in house...reasonably priced. Oh and the home pour would be the national norm.
Naps and sleeping in would be worked seamlessly into the daily routine.
Complaining and whining will be tolerated under no condition and met with muted deafness and the arm...because talking to the hand is insufficient in this case...
Thinking outside the building-like the one that Elvis has left(not just out of the box)would be a decadent actuality.
Each of us would take for granted that we need to clean up after ourselves, both literally and metaphorically.
Only educated voters would be allowed to vote for the winners of political elections and reality shows...certified via online test? Can't be bothered with logistics now.
Kindness would be law...sarcasm taught,generosity and thoughtfulness innate, creativity,silliness/laughter and empathy not optional.
Dancing it out...would become the new national pastime.
Harry Connick Junior would tour monthly and my seat would be front, center and free of charge.
SERIOUS Fashion Violators would go to Style School (like traffic school) as their community service and would be aided by an expert glam squad...or Stacy and Clinton...whomever is on call that day.
Indulgence within reason would be encouraged.
Each individual would be committed to identify and share their gifts with those around them. And those who took more than their fare share of talent and ability would be forced to ration out the extra to the Gifted Impaired. Fair is fair...
As long as work was completed, vacation time and location potential would be infinite.
Everyone would have to read an average of a book a month and would need to select something not recommended by Oprah, Regis and Kelly,or the Ladies of the VIEW (anyone still watching that? Because...who's view,exactly? Also an assault to my sensibilities.)
Birthdays would be celebrated like they are in Katroo (via Seuss) with the addition of a Nordstrom Cosmetic/Fragrance counter and open bar...for partaking of and dancing on...of course...oh and live music by the band of my choosing.
Hair days would OBVIOUSLY be fantastic...so there would no longer be any need for the Good/Bad adjectives before "hair"...they would just be Hair Days.
Grey's would be on year round with only nine reruns allowed-to be aired on nights when I have other plans. Also, October Road would be brought back in the place of one of the 17 Crime Investigation Shows.
Sunny would not only be the constant weather forecast, but the only acceptable disposition.
If people lives come crashing down around them...cameras would not be permitted to catch the action for millions to view and judge in the name of sad and sadistic rubber necking...sorry, "entertainment"...?!?!
"Vegetarian Vampires" would actually exist-and live on my street...
List of Because I Said So's can be altered by me at any time without advance warning or outside permissions.
That was frivolously fun for me...hopefully amazingly amusing for you.
What would be on your list...Think about it.
Because I Said So...
Note to CJ:
This was merely the bouncy brain baby of your imagination-no one is required to take your whims(shiny as they may be) as law...
FINE!
So here goes-back to the dull monotony of reality and responsibility...and the "Because I Said So's" of the real world. Made and enforced (unfortunately) without my consent or approval...*Sigh*
July 9, 2009
Cool School...Frustration Lends Itself to Ridiculousness
We all like to delude ourselves into thinking that we are ultra cool. I am not sure that the word cool is still...well, cool...but whateva...We tell ourselves that at the very least we have moments of such profound coolness that they redeem our less-than-Stefani* moments. That is what we tell ourselves, but mostly we lie...
*Gwen Stefani is the female poster child for Cool. Mostly because she is a rocker chick, she always wears a flawless ruby pout and can femme it up in tube socks...As if that is not enough, she is a designer of not one-but two fabu clothing lines: LAMB and Harajuku Lovers. The fact that she is married to a fellow rock star really doesn't even make her cool-tribute list-like royalty marrying royalty-it is as it SHOULD be. Gwen is indubitably original, she is definitely shiny. Also she smells like bubble gum,or cotton candy-I am not sure which.(Alright,admittedly-I have never had the opportunity to smell her,and well...THAT would make for an odd introduction...but Gwen smelling like candy is simply a given)...
Other pillars of coolness include: Vince Vaughn,obviously Bogart,Harry,Elvis, Brando, Grant, Jack Johnson, Fitzgerald,JT,Hemingway,Sheryl Crow,SJP(Sarah Jessica Parker),Johnny Cash,Lauren Bacall, Coco Chanel,Elway,Vin Diesel,Lincoln,Katherine Hepburn,John Wayne,Pacino,Neruda,Bruce Willis,Plath, Scorcese (have to be cool to pull off hairy caterpillars for eyebrows), Nicholson,R.Pat(in his Edward-ness),Sakic,Bond (James-not Barry),Depp, Dillinger, Kat Von D,...- my list changes regularly, sure that comes as a shock.*Handing you a paper bag and a popsickle stick so you don't swallow your tongue.* You'll recover,I believe in you...because you are THAT cool. Right?
Which brings me to my point. There are always pesky naysayers out to chink our coolness armor...Frustration being one of the craftiest culprits...because well, there is NOTHING less cool than losing your cool...haha I am going to need a new word. Redundancy is uncool...I mean...unsavory..ish.
So here is the unsightly truth. Irritation leads to frustration, frustration runs head on into anger and anger is NOT at all pretty, it is definitely not um...chill(?).Hopefully you seldom get angry and when you do,you keep your ultra smooth composure. Ideally your blood only boils over noble causes and grave injustice as it should. For the rest of us-the spitefully flawed.Those of us belonging to the achingly human variety-who sometimes get angry over pointless, senseless things that are really not the reason we are angry at all...but we don't have time to delve into Freshman Psych right now, so moving on...But for those of us who breathe, live and feel...
When collective-ness and serenity check out -(and I hope for your sake that you only part with your unruffled exterior in the privacy of your own home,in a sound proof windowless room-where there are no witnesses)...and miffed-ness ensues. At that moment when we are fully aware of our ridiculousness but all reason and sound judgment have made a Starbucks run ...Like an out of body experience where your Gwen/Vince Self watches (nonfat, sugar-free peppermint mocha in hand)in stifled horror as your Emotional and Ill Composed Self shamelessly and undemurely unravels.
Personally, my Little Red Monster (or Courtney Love) staggers out dirty blond-HOLE-style in search of blood...crack...whatever Courtney hungers for. Havoc? It is at this precise moment,that my inner Gwen leaps from the shadows. Deftly, she takes Love down exhibiting her great skill. Calmly,Gwen drags her back inside by the roots of her platinum, over-processed hair-while Courtney kicks and bites...(nothing to see here.)But not before Courtney makes herself heard in a lightening fast tantrum type outburst.Torn couture and all...
Blink-Hopefully you will miss it.
Usually little stacks of mishaps and irritations bring Red (Cort) out to play/battle depending on your demeanor..The refuse burning stench of things I chose to overlook but secretly and unintentionally held onto*...pile up and eventually pour over...
*Boys-fairly sure your kind is generally not guilty of this brand of behavior...but if you haven't yet worked out the figures...Womankind is infamous for it. We inwardly hang on to the little things we outwardly let slide. Which is why when you give us a grunt to a question or a request that we make of you, or leave your glass in the sink...we occasionally unleash a laundry list of every minuscule thing that you may have done to perturb us over the course of our other wise Reagan-esque lives together...We know it's not COMPLETELY fair per-se...it's a wiring thing. Just give Glam Gwen a sec to bind and gag Crazy Courtney. Then tread softly and keep a low but tempered /attentive profile for a day or so-(think Noah,Edward or Lloyd)Your welcome...got that down?*Knuckles* Got your back. For now...I may turn-so always best to sleep with one eye open. Heehee*
Okay so I am going to come out of my Secret Ridiculous Chamber and let you take a quick peek at Courtney (looking like about seventy three bucks)...So...over the course of two days post holiday (which just seems to make everything tougher to take)...
1. Boy5 locked my Baby Girl in his room..."just because". Let's just say that the extent of my tool knowledge is lefty lucy, right tighty...Luckily she was calm and I was channeling my inner Stefani-because it took maybe thirty minutes to get her out. After trying cards, knives, jimmying the lock with a meat thermometer (of course trying futilely to walk her through the unlocking process)...I took the doorknob off with my itty-bitty set of screw drivers. Felt just like MacGyvr... only with better hair-and no flannel.That was a beautiful thing because the next recourse was to kick the door down Stalone-style...in strappy sandals.
2.I picked up the same toys from the same spot (front and center of the house for the twenty-second time in the same day. The Monkeys only think it is funny because they don't know that next time-Miss Love is busting out a Hefty for the job. Problem solved.
3.The cleaning and sanitizing of mystery puddles (spare you the gaggy details)
4. Having to file a restraining order with the Bully Police to keep my kids from bringing one another to a premature close...think Eminem and Sasha Baron Cohen-minus profanity
5. The swamp cooler went out on one of the first 95+ degree days of summer we have had...the VERY one when my daughter was held captive in Spidey's hideout...
I will stop there...Not crazy about complaining,(fully aware that the human race has ACTUAL problems) but suffice it to say that Courtney was clawing her way out-minus a shoe of course.
So at the exact moment that I escape downstairs and close the door to the laundry room to give Miss Love a brief moment of riotous misbehavior with her name written all over it in smeary hot-pink lipstick...I yank clothes out of the washing machine (not as therapeutic as one would hope), hurl them at the open door of the dryer and repeat...then I went to stand and banged my head hard and fast on the wood shelf placed maliciously over the washing machine...*Vision blurred* Final score:Gwen 10-Courtney 1...hahahaha...See? Anger invites and encourages ridiculousness and sometimes results in a big, fat,throbbing headache.
According to the Tao of Gwen/Vince...(insert name of chosen Cool Guy/Girl here)...
Coolness is a virtue...Perspective, fresh air,counting to 10 or 10,000 whatever it takes, cardio, stomping/dancing/running/jumping/kicking it out...
SMILE (ruby red pout in place) in the face of Life's day to day mocking of your existence...
It all helps...and anytime your Inner Stefani is able to keep your Inner Love locked quietly up in solitary rehab(Fellas sub inner Vaughn keep inner Bale/Crowe from bail, community service, fine and assault charges)...you have won one in the name of COOLOSITY...
Allow your cool head and even cooler hair-to prevail.
"Blessed are those who laugh at themselves, they will never cease to be amused." Author Unknown
*Gwen Stefani is the female poster child for Cool. Mostly because she is a rocker chick, she always wears a flawless ruby pout and can femme it up in tube socks...As if that is not enough, she is a designer of not one-but two fabu clothing lines: LAMB and Harajuku Lovers. The fact that she is married to a fellow rock star really doesn't even make her cool-tribute list-like royalty marrying royalty-it is as it SHOULD be. Gwen is indubitably original, she is definitely shiny. Also she smells like bubble gum,or cotton candy-I am not sure which.(Alright,admittedly-I have never had the opportunity to smell her,and well...THAT would make for an odd introduction...but Gwen smelling like candy is simply a given)...
Other pillars of coolness include: Vince Vaughn,obviously Bogart,Harry,Elvis, Brando, Grant, Jack Johnson, Fitzgerald,JT,Hemingway,Sheryl Crow,SJP(Sarah Jessica Parker),Johnny Cash,Lauren Bacall, Coco Chanel,Elway,Vin Diesel,Lincoln,Katherine Hepburn,John Wayne,Pacino,Neruda,Bruce Willis,Plath, Scorcese (have to be cool to pull off hairy caterpillars for eyebrows), Nicholson,R.Pat(in his Edward-ness),Sakic,Bond (James-not Barry),Depp, Dillinger, Kat Von D,...- my list changes regularly, sure that comes as a shock.*Handing you a paper bag and a popsickle stick so you don't swallow your tongue.* You'll recover,I believe in you...because you are THAT cool. Right?
Which brings me to my point. There are always pesky naysayers out to chink our coolness armor...Frustration being one of the craftiest culprits...because well, there is NOTHING less cool than losing your cool...haha I am going to need a new word. Redundancy is uncool...I mean...unsavory..ish.
So here is the unsightly truth. Irritation leads to frustration, frustration runs head on into anger and anger is NOT at all pretty, it is definitely not um...chill(?).Hopefully you seldom get angry and when you do,you keep your ultra smooth composure. Ideally your blood only boils over noble causes and grave injustice as it should. For the rest of us-the spitefully flawed.Those of us belonging to the achingly human variety-who sometimes get angry over pointless, senseless things that are really not the reason we are angry at all...but we don't have time to delve into Freshman Psych right now, so moving on...But for those of us who breathe, live and feel...
When collective-ness and serenity check out -(and I hope for your sake that you only part with your unruffled exterior in the privacy of your own home,in a sound proof windowless room-where there are no witnesses)...and miffed-ness ensues. At that moment when we are fully aware of our ridiculousness but all reason and sound judgment have made a Starbucks run ...Like an out of body experience where your Gwen/Vince Self watches (nonfat, sugar-free peppermint mocha in hand)in stifled horror as your Emotional and Ill Composed Self shamelessly and undemurely unravels.
Personally, my Little Red Monster (or Courtney Love) staggers out dirty blond-HOLE-style in search of blood...crack...whatever Courtney hungers for. Havoc? It is at this precise moment,that my inner Gwen leaps from the shadows. Deftly, she takes Love down exhibiting her great skill. Calmly,Gwen drags her back inside by the roots of her platinum, over-processed hair-while Courtney kicks and bites...(nothing to see here.)But not before Courtney makes herself heard in a lightening fast tantrum type outburst.Torn couture and all...
Blink-Hopefully you will miss it.
Usually little stacks of mishaps and irritations bring Red (Cort) out to play/battle depending on your demeanor..The refuse burning stench of things I chose to overlook but secretly and unintentionally held onto*...pile up and eventually pour over...
*Boys-fairly sure your kind is generally not guilty of this brand of behavior...but if you haven't yet worked out the figures...Womankind is infamous for it. We inwardly hang on to the little things we outwardly let slide. Which is why when you give us a grunt to a question or a request that we make of you, or leave your glass in the sink...we occasionally unleash a laundry list of every minuscule thing that you may have done to perturb us over the course of our other wise Reagan-esque lives together...We know it's not COMPLETELY fair per-se...it's a wiring thing. Just give Glam Gwen a sec to bind and gag Crazy Courtney. Then tread softly and keep a low but tempered /attentive profile for a day or so-(think Noah,Edward or Lloyd)Your welcome...got that down?*Knuckles* Got your back. For now...I may turn-so always best to sleep with one eye open. Heehee*
Okay so I am going to come out of my Secret Ridiculous Chamber and let you take a quick peek at Courtney (looking like about seventy three bucks)...So...over the course of two days post holiday (which just seems to make everything tougher to take)...
1. Boy5 locked my Baby Girl in his room..."just because". Let's just say that the extent of my tool knowledge is lefty lucy, right tighty...Luckily she was calm and I was channeling my inner Stefani-because it took maybe thirty minutes to get her out. After trying cards, knives, jimmying the lock with a meat thermometer (of course trying futilely to walk her through the unlocking process)...I took the doorknob off with my itty-bitty set of screw drivers. Felt just like MacGyvr... only with better hair-and no flannel.That was a beautiful thing because the next recourse was to kick the door down Stalone-style...in strappy sandals.
2.I picked up the same toys from the same spot (front and center of the house for the twenty-second time in the same day. The Monkeys only think it is funny because they don't know that next time-Miss Love is busting out a Hefty for the job. Problem solved.
3.The cleaning and sanitizing of mystery puddles (spare you the gaggy details)
4. Having to file a restraining order with the Bully Police to keep my kids from bringing one another to a premature close...think Eminem and Sasha Baron Cohen-minus profanity
5. The swamp cooler went out on one of the first 95+ degree days of summer we have had...the VERY one when my daughter was held captive in Spidey's hideout...
I will stop there...Not crazy about complaining,(fully aware that the human race has ACTUAL problems) but suffice it to say that Courtney was clawing her way out-minus a shoe of course.
So at the exact moment that I escape downstairs and close the door to the laundry room to give Miss Love a brief moment of riotous misbehavior with her name written all over it in smeary hot-pink lipstick...I yank clothes out of the washing machine (not as therapeutic as one would hope), hurl them at the open door of the dryer and repeat...then I went to stand and banged my head hard and fast on the wood shelf placed maliciously over the washing machine...*Vision blurred* Final score:Gwen 10-Courtney 1...hahahaha...See? Anger invites and encourages ridiculousness and sometimes results in a big, fat,throbbing headache.
According to the Tao of Gwen/Vince...(insert name of chosen Cool Guy/Girl here)...
Coolness is a virtue...Perspective, fresh air,counting to 10 or 10,000 whatever it takes, cardio, stomping/dancing/running/jumping/kicking it out...
SMILE (ruby red pout in place) in the face of Life's day to day mocking of your existence...
It all helps...and anytime your Inner Stefani is able to keep your Inner Love locked quietly up in solitary rehab(Fellas sub inner Vaughn keep inner Bale/Crowe from bail, community service, fine and assault charges)...you have won one in the name of COOLOSITY...
Allow your cool head and even cooler hair-to prevail.
"Blessed are those who laugh at themselves, they will never cease to be amused." Author Unknown
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