Monday, February 8, 2016

Valentines Day is a Satanic Plot

I am not a fan of Valentines Day.   Which is too bad since it is also my Anniversary.  Ya it's not that we were overly romantic in choosing the day, quite the opposite.  My husband was in school and suggested if we got married the Thursday before President's Day we could have a longer honeymoon. I looked at the calendar and grimaced as I realized it was Valentines Day.  I turned to him and told him that was cliche, he said, "Okay we can wait until I'm out of school in the summer."  Two problems with that: I'm a God fearing Christian full of raging hormones (even then).  I was pretty sure we would not be temple worthy by summer, so Valentine's Day it was.

The upside is we can never forget our Anniversary as the entire marketing structure of the United States reminds us.  But isn't that marketing structure a little off?  In all the ads there is flowers and candy and candlelight, gorgeous model couples with lean beautiful bodies staring at each other with pleasure and passion.  And to prove the intensity of their love he is giving her jewelry and roses.  As if love can be measured by the amount of money you spend.  Here my love, I love you a 1500 dollar diamond bracelet worth which makes me much better than the schmo who loves his spouse a twenty dollar Walmart necklace worth.  Doesn't this set insane expectations all the way around?

And what does any of it have to do with love?

I like Garrison Keillor's version of love.  He tells the story of a couple who bought several piglets and cared for them in the hopes of selling them and taking a long awaited trip to Hawaii. But, winters in Lake Wobegone are hard. The piglets contracted a virus and every single piglet died. Their dream gone and their hearts broken they commenced to taking on the immediate task. He says,
"If the two of you pick up sixty-eight little pig carcasses by their frozen legs and throw them into the pickup and haul them to the landfill and bury them, and if you don't get mad and blame each other, just do the job, and go to bed, your pigs gone and your shirts lost, and turn toward the middle and lie in each other's arms, that's true love.  Probably it will last because it has endured so much already"   
(Leaving Home, Garrison Keillor - get it read it - it's awesome)

Real love is just that..the resolution to be together, to keep working together, through all the stuff of life, to keep reaching and becoming together.  No jewelry, no candy, no candelight....

....although flowers would be nice.  /

Fifty is Shifty

Fifty is Shifty

I haven't blogged in a bit.  And this new format is crazy.  But I will learn it.  If I can retain focus long enough.  Although, menopause brain has turned my focus into a spinning kaleidoscope of random thought held together by raging hormones and ADD.

SQUIRREL!

I like blogs.  (Oh btw I change gears frequently!)  I think there is a lot of useful info out there if you can get pass the myriad of ads.  I hate those sites that make you wade through full picture ads for crap I don't want, to find the little teeny tiny arrow that points you to the info I got on the blog site for in the first place.  And with a dis-fragmented brain and short attention span I generally lose interest about 5 seconds into the site and I am no longer care enough to continue.  IF I can remember what interested me in the first place.

But blogs.  Ya, I like blogs.   Butt the majority seem categorically alike.  Cutsey upbeat everything is terribly light and organized and wonderful and nearly perfect, unless one posts the adorable failure, or sweet little mess up, and isn't it all just DARLING!

I can't relate.

I sit here in my eternally messy house, because I don't live alone, (which is my excuse for my eternally messy house) with my snoring farting dog near. (What the crap do they put in dog food that makes it smell like that anyway???)  And cute and perfect is not my life.

And the whole fifty thing has taken me by surprise.  I always missed the hip generation.  When I was twenty the show "Thirtysomething" was huge tv show.  Then in my thirties the twenty year olds from "Friends" dominated.  I was always in the wrong decade.  And now fifty.  What are you supposed to do in your fifties?  I am too young to retire -  not that I wouldn't in a heartbeat if I had the funds.  I am too old to start a new career.  Ya Ya I know people have done it, Grandma Moses started art at seventy something, whatever, shut up,   Kids are grown,  Grandchildren are growing,  Moms (mine and his) are declining, (Dads are both gone now) and I have decided menopause is crap.

So what now?