And that's okay. Isn't it? It's okay to not always be the same, same, same. My only consistency is that I am inconsistent, and I am proud of that. I don't want to be the faceless crowd, I want to be the face of the lonely, the scorned, the proud, the humiliated, the forgotten woman, the remembered girl. I don't think I have split personalities (do I?), I just revel in the persona petri dishes of life where the climate is so sensitive, so full of laughter bordering on tears, where just one move, one way or another, could spell my demise ... or my success. I really don't know why I like that sort of standing on the edge, because in 'real life,' I'm a scaredy cat. I'm scared of heights, elevators, close rooms, and people who never smoked...but most of all, I'm afraid of being normal.
If I wanted to be normal, I would never have picked up the ukulele and embraced it like a long lost child of my own. If I wanted to be normal, I would have never told people who were bigoted that they were hypocritical oafs. If I wanted to be normal, I would not have chosen to sing in a church choir, participate in a volunteer ministry and still enjoy a fine scotch and big fat lobster every once in a while. If I wanted to be normal, I would definitely have been asked to be born in another family, a family where a career centered in the arts -- whether it's writing or singing or playing -- is considered a career only a weirdo would choose. (Cough...ex-in-laws...emphasis on the EX). If I wanted to be normal, y'all, I would not be writing my thoughts down and hoping someone reads and cares about where I went today, who I saw, what I did.
|Ryan Case & I - Tonight, You Belong to Me!|
Today, I interviewed at a fine law firm in a gorgeous Victorian home downtown, all the duties seem to be in line with other duties I have had working for attorneys. In other words, the work involves a lot of typing from dictation and steering clear of the Avon ladies and MaryKay nazis. It will involve more of me not paying attention to my co-workers and giving my all to my boss, who is the managing partner, the head honcho, if you will, of the entire firm. And they all lived happily ever after, right? lollyKimmy.
|This is a portrait of me by Madeline E.I think.|
Why, you may ask (or not)? It is because of a gift I gave myself last year. It was Forgiveness. I had no gift to bring at Christmastime, and so I simply talked myself into forgiving people who had been not so nice to me. Some of them I had known my entire life, and some of them were ancillary antagonists. I did not have to go and tell them I forgave them, either. I just had to forgive them in my heart, and lambchops, let me just say that once I truly allowed that to happen, my life was changed. For the better. I began to free up a lot of time I had spent commiserating about this beeotch or that asshole. No, I didn't do away with the sharp tongue forever, but I did soften my heart toward those with whom I had previously been unforgiving.
|Thomas Family circa 1978|
|Me, Paula Schrecker & Allie Darden, 2 of the loveliest ladies I know|
That story is another series of blogs and I won't go into details, but suffice it to say, we met an angel, and saw a devil on that trip. During that trip, I laughed, I cried, and laughed until I cried, but not until I arranged for the doctor to order my brother his final beer, and I prayed.
The role of Forgiveness in the months that followed can never be overstated. It was Forgiveness that freed me up from being a victim into being a forgiver. It was Forgiveness that kept me from crying over spilt milk and let me see that it is much better to do what you want to do versus doing what others want you to do. And not only is it better, it is okay. Okay? I learned that sometimes you have to forgive the same sin over and over and over again.
|Kathy Hobbs gave me this dress, it's the costume for Rose in her production of Golden Girls|
|Thomas Family at deSha's, March 2013|
Now it is a year later, and I've had to make adjustments. For example, I had to do away with cable and learn to love MeTV. While I miss Letterman and Spongebob, I yam very grateful for a friend like Ali, who welcomed me into her home. She makes me mosaic hat boxes and feathery fascinators, is undoubtedly one of the most gifted artists I know, and she can make a helluva dinner with just pasta, mayo and curry. Here in the upper room of her house I sit, in my new apartment, safely tucked far away from the peeping toms and creepy neighbors I endured in my 5 years of living downtown. The window up here faces the west, and most every night I take a moment to sit in the veriest corner of the room to watch the sun (always forgiving at the end of the day) settle into Its vermillion boots.
One of these days, I'm going get me some of them red boots. Until then, thanks for reading all of this and for not thinking ill of me for my mental wanderings.
|Me and Josh|