Thursday, March 25, 2010

Waiting for My Real Life to Begin

Any minute now my ship is coming in...I'll keep checking the horizon, and I'll stand in the bow.

It is dark and the lights below rise to meet me. When the door opens, I repeat the steps that I've repeated over and over. I move because moving is expected. I walk fast because walking fast make me appear to have purpose, and it is important to keep up appearances. Even if there is really no one watching. The stores are all closed for the day, the gates pulled down, and the place is mostly empty. But still I walk fast.

And I'll check my machine, There's sure to be that call, It's gonna happen soon, soon, oh so very soon... It's just that times are lean.

While I walk, I try to remember how it is I got... here. Not necessarily the physical here... but the timeline here. I retrace my footsteps in my head, and visually connect the moments. But it is like a morning dream. An amalgam of dreams of the whole night. Disjointed snippets and images which, combined, make no sense. We make due and weave our stories together in ways that tell a narrative. But often the writing isn't as good as we hoped.

And you said,"Be still, my love. Open up your heart. Let the light shine in"

I think it is inevitable that the cheerleaders in our lives grow out of the uniforms eventually. The skirts and pom-poms that once looked so fetching, now look absurd. That is the definition, I suppose, of the end of love. When the new stories in our lives sound so much like the old stories in our lives that those that once believed, can no longer rouse themselves off the couch for long enough to feign interest. I wish for that voice to say... "Be still." But all I hear is the echoes from long ago.

Don't you understand? I already have a plan. I'm waiting for my real life to begin.

First it was film. Then writing. I could go through a whole laundry list of them. Something... anything creative that allows the world not to view me as just another poor sot. Anything but the corporate hustle to make other people money. But we put our energies where they need to be to stay employed. The helpful adages of "do what you love" become replaced by the realism of "do what pays the bills". And find those things that keep you going in other places. And instead of waiting for others to cheer... cheer yourself instead.

And so I move. Walking fast, and waiting for my real life to begin.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Love & Dinner

Taken from the actual dinner conversation at Chez Mobi last evening.

13YO: SOOOOO..... I have NEWS. I have a new boyfriend!

Me: (mid bite) What happened to what's his name?

13YO: He is too much of a girl.

Me: (chewing slowly) He was too much of a girl so you broke up with him?

13YO: Yes... A is much better. And taller. And generally cuter. And smarter.

Me: (swallowing carefully) How did this come about? This whole "being your boyfriend" thing?

13YO: At lunch.

Me: He asked you at lunch?

13YO: No... he sent his wingman... who talked to the girls I sit with.

Me: Wingman? How do you even know what a wingman is? So there was no direct contact. Just brokers?

13YO: Yep.

I chewed some carrots pensively.

8YO: I have news too... C is dating B now.

Me: Dating? What does that mean exactly? Aren't you 8? And didn't C say that he liked you, like, yesterday?

8YO: Yes... but that was yesterday.

Me: Ouch...

8YO: Yes... but I was too good for him anyway.

Me: Double ouch. Remind me to keep close tabs on you when you get older.

11YO: I have news too...

Me: Not more love news...

Now the 11YO has been "with" his girlfriend for two years... an eternity for this family. And while the other people use brokers to parlez, the boy was always very straight forward... sending cards, buying Valentines, going to birthday parties... girl birthday parties. And he never caught cooties. So if this was about his love life.. it was news.

11YO: M is moving to Dubai in a few months.


11YO: It's in the Middle East.

Me: I know where it is. Why?

11YO: Her father got transferred.

Me: Wow.. that sucks buddy.

11YO: (philosophically) Yeah.

Much quiet chewing for awhile as my hair grayed more.

11YO: Dad?

Me: Yes?

11YO: Can we get Skype?

Friday, March 12, 2010

Since Last We Talked

I haven't really felt like writing all that much. I've been busy, yes. But that wasn't really it. I just didn't have anything to say. Nothing witty. Nothing profound. I've been waiting. Waiting for my job to close down. I've been fretting about this and that. Mostly things I can't really control anyway. But I managed to shepherd my flock into something in the way of a happy ending, which was definitely better than the alternative which consisted of cliffs and nooses and what not. Anyway...

So now I'm off on the next adventure, which, in the end, is just the same adventure... just with different faces. This adventure entails less control, more stress, and lots more travel... which isn't really that hard since I didn't travel at all before. Chez Mobi is in quite the uphevel dealing with the various ramifications of this.

11YO: I'm glad your traveling... at least you aren't sitting home playing games on the computer anymore.

8YO: Does this mean you can't do my homework anymore?

13YO: You realize this means that Mommy is going to be in a bad mood for the next year?

Travel to all of them is exotic. "OH... you get to see cities!" They don't realize that all the cities look the same when you are in an office all day long. "Oh sure... you get to eat out, while I have to slave away cooking every night." They don't realize that the food all tastes the same in Seatlle as it does in Providence. "OH... you get to stay in cool hotels!" They don't realize that it is harder to sleep alone.

There are people that are built for the road. Who enjoy squishing themselves into an airline seat every Monday and jetting off to someplace new. I can handle it in finite pieces. But it is real drag after awhile.

To them it is either an adventure, where I will get to see new and exotic places... like Detroit. Or more often, it is just an excuse to be away from home duties... like running people to lessons or dance or hockey.

It would be nice just once to have them say... "thank you... I realize what you are giving up."