Bollocks
May 29, 2007 - 4:52 p.m.
It was kind of a 24-hour identity crisis and recovery period.
Sunday: Big surprise party for Suzanne�s Big Birthday, which also became a surprise party for husband Billy�s upcoming Big Birthday, a celebration of their upcoming anniversary, and farewell party for Billy, who is headed to Iraq in one month.
Ugh. Don�t even get me started on the Iraq thing. Billy was an ROTC kid, and he has a strong sense of patriotism. He�s a big time Republican, too. Don�t ask me how we get along so well, but we do. Anyway, Billy WANTS to go to Iraq. I just don�t understand that depth of patriotism, especially considering he has a wife and two young daughters. But that�s his choice, and I simply hope and pray for his safe return.
Back to the party. It was at a lovely little Italian restaurant, hosted by both sets of parents, and was a ton of fun, in spite of the hokey deejay shit. (Really, these guys all need to be shot dead, along with their stupid dancing games. (with nauseating, over-the-top enthusiasm) �Now I want everyone on the dance floor to go and bring someone else up!� Drop dead, asshole. Why can�t you leave things be?) But I played along, because Suzanne and Billy are fun, and they have a lot of fun friends (except their nasal, snobby, NASAL (it bears repeating) neighbor, Lorena, who always drones on (brags) about something unimportant to everyone but her). This time it was her new StyleStone countertops. The way she went on and on, loudly repeating �StyleStone� no less than three dozen times, you�d think she had fucking diamond encrusted counters.
Wow. Can�t seem to stay away from the negative here.
Yes. The party was fun. Suzanne and Billy are always fun. I admire their never-ending spirit and energy. They laughed and danced like a couple of foolish fools all night with anyone and everyone. Their joie de vivre can be infectious. It was touching to watch Billy dance around with Shelby and Hannah (even though Shelby is at that age where she is easily embarrassed by her parents), knowing that they�ll be apart soon.
We dined and drank and danced ourselves silly, and a good time was had by all. It�s a pity their friend Doug�s mousy wife was there. I always feel like she�s giving me the death glare. I knew Doug � never dated him, just knew him � before Mousy met him. Before Billy and Suzanne met him, for that matter. So, whenever Doug talks to me � yes, HE starts the conversations � Mousy looks like she is having some sort of internal freakout. Trust me, hon, if I didn�t want him way back before he was bald and paunchy, I certainly am not looking to bust up your marriage now. But Doug pulled me onto the dance floor for �Rock Lobster,� a throwback to our younger (pre-Mousy) days, and rather than be rude and ditch him, I tapped on nearby Billy to join us, hoping to lessen the death glare. What more could I politely do to appease the insecure housefrau? Frankly, I think I went above and beyond, considering her insecurities are baseless.
Driving home from the party, though, I started to feel like I had lost my identity. From the dinner conversation being dominated by raconteur Doug and nasal, crowing Lorena, to being �introduced� to Suzanne�s mother for, like, the fifth time, I began wondering why it so often happens that I end up feeling squelched and forgotten in group settings. True, I�m never the most boisterous one, but I resent being regarded as quiet. I�m not quiet; I�m reserved. There�s a difference. I�m no shrinking violet. I just don�t see the need to go through life with my personality two feet in front of me.
In a roomful of Dougs and Lorenas, though, it�s easy to be drowned out.
That alone would not have bothered me so much. It was Suzanne�s mother. I knew she wouldn�t remember me, despite our having met numerous times in the past. We even have similar names, for crissakes. (My name, of course, is younger and hipper than hers � nyah!) Yet she always remembers Sandy and her entire family. Billy�s parents, on the other hand, greeted me by name with hugs and kisses. And I know what it is. Suzanne�s mother is one of Those People who disregards anyone (especially women?) who does not have children and/or a significant other. Like I don�t matter because I haven�t accomplished what she believes is my purpose in life. I�m not making this stuff up. She�s not the first one. And Those People are always married, always parents.
Needless to say, that kind of bullshit boils my blood.
So, from domination to flat out forgotten, my personality was bruised and a little hurty that evening.
Yesterday, my tentative plans with Kelly fell through (a comedy of errors on both our parts), but I had plenty to do at home. I planted and clipped. I did laundry. I cooked so much stuff that I will be cook-free for the rest of the week. I scrapbooked and made a few cards. Wow. I could totally dig a part-time (four-day) workweek.
Feeling quite content with myself (although still slightly bruised from the night before), I settled in around 9:30 with the movie that Tim left for me a few months ago.
Now don�t laugh, but who knew �The Filth and the Fury� would make me feel so much better about myself? Yup. I was renewed, courtesy of the Sex Pistols.
I felt a positive sense of self, no doubt stemming from a trip back in time. Ah, youth! More importantly, I was remembering who I was then and how I lived my life. I realized I have been suppressing part of my true spirit. No, I�m not an anarchist, but I�ve gradually squelched some of my passion in life. And here I was, thinking others were doing that to me. Nope. Only I can do that to myself.
Too many years in Corporate America? Perhaps. The trick was supposed to be that I would flip that switch on and off from nine to five. And I did, for many years. In the past few years, though, I think I have slacked off with that switch. Maybe I�ve been doing too much of what others (meaning the general public) expect. Sometimes it�s easier that way, just to follow the pack, but how sad is that? To lose a part of oneself without even realizing it?
No, I won�t be returning to spiky layers of rock and roll hair streaked with pink or blue or purple. What I will do, though, is live my life with the passion and joy that comes from knowing I�m the only one who gets to be me.
But really, this is all getting way headier than I intended. I�m also finding it difficult to express exactly what I was feeling as I watched that movie. Let�s just say that last night, as the credits rolled, there was a woman dancing around in her living room to �Submission,� and she was joyous, happy to be herself.
Autumn
Stuck in my head : �Anarchy in the U.K.� � Sex Pistols
Trick or Treat - November 02, 2007
Autumn Has Left the Building - July 19, 2007
The Nail - June 04, 2007
Ungolding - June 01, 2007
Bollocks - May 29, 2007