The age old battle

It isn't discussed often, because most of my friends are smart enough to know when to leave a sensative topic alone, but almost everyone close to me is aware that I am just a touch insecure. Probably no more than most average women. I'm not sure. I haven't passed out the "how insecure are you" survey. Yet.

Luckily for me it is balanced by having an ego the size of a small country. It seems to work out in the wash. But there is a rather large part of me that does an eyeroll and wonders if people don't need to get their eyes checked when they say i'm beautiful. Sure, I appreciate the compliment and it makes me feel good but I can't dismiss that voice inside that says "hello, Miz Freckle-face - Michelle Pfieffer you ain't."

And time partnered with gravity isn't making overlooking those inner insecurities any easier. Gravity meet my boobs... we'll be waging war in the gym every day now for the rest of my life. Looking in the mirror at boobage that is definitely not as perky as it used to be, i suspect that gravity will ultimately win that battle. The bitch.

And wrinkles? When the fuck did wrinkles creep up next to my eyes? I woke up one morning earlier this year and they were just THERE. Came out of nowhere like ninja assassins and took up residence. Fortunately I have found some lotions that help beat them into submission, but doesn't erase them completely. I see them. Yeah... just waiting to dig their crevaces deeper into my skin. Bastards!

Oh, then there is our lovely friend cellulite. I'm pretty sure i spend wayyyyy too much time glaring at the backs of my thighs in the mirror. The cellulite vanishing cream - totally useless. Cellulite laughs in its face.

And don't get me started on tummy pooch. I already know that bitch is situp resistant and the only way to beat her is with a surgeon's knife. Yeah - someday... when i have the extra cash. ~wincing in advance~

I truly admire women that can age gracefully and honestly maintain a "i don't give a fuck" attitude. But in my case, I had limited resources to begin with, so I'm not going down gracefully.

Beautiful? Not hardly. But i'm fighting like an enraged Amazon to maintain what i have for as long as I can.

Itchy Skin

what is it that provokes a sense of discomfort and the itchy need for change?

i find myself being overly sensative lately, distrustful and impatient.

maybe it is nothing more than wanting things i can't have and gnashing my teeth at myself for wanting them.

in the past, when i would get very itchy skin and fall under the weight of needing drastic change, i would pack up shop and vanish, reappearing with a new face and making new friends.

fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it - that is no longer an option.

i've got friends now that i've tied myself to in ways that cannot be severed so quickly, easily - nor do i want to let them go... i don't think i could even if i wanted to. (I think my inner self came up with that plan to outwit me so i could no longer run like a skittish coyote or chicken shit.)

So my skin itches and i strain against invisible bindings with no discernable way of relieving the itch.

i need to do something though... some small change... something.

One Door Closes and Another One Opens

I have always detested that saying. Mostly because someone always says it just as a door is being slammed in your face. Despite my dislike of the assinine platitude, it sometimes proves to be true.

Lately it seems I've been dealing with a number of doors either slamming shut or quietly being closed, locked, and barricaded. The most recent hit me in ass as I was unceremoniously tossed out. What can you do? Shit happens and sometimes we never find out why. (I try not to press my ear to the door once it has been closed in my face.)

You dust yourself off, mentally come to grips with reality and then take a look around. Because you'll never notice a new door cracking open if you're huddled in a corner having a pity party. And usually the new door has absolutely nothing to do with the old ones... it is just a possible path to a new direction.

Sometimes, that is all we need.

Shoooeeesssssss

Bagful of Worry

I feel like an extraordinary number of my close friends are dealing with serious health issues lately. I don't know if that is a normal part of growing older or if the percentage of healthy people suddenly coming down with dire illnesses is rising overall.

I got an email last night from one of closest and oldest (as in number of years we've known each other) friends. I think he's about mid-forties now, has always been a health fanatic with a regimented daily workout, until some disks in his back collapsed recently and he had to have back surgery a month ago. During the course of THAT treatment they discovered that he has serious heart problem due to a defective valve. He has to have open heart surgery next month. Open freakin heart surgery!!!

He must have known I was going to go into fullblown panic mode because his message was packed full of reassurances that it was a good thing it was caught early, blah, blah, blah.

Open HEART surgery!!!!

Yeah. I'm mildly freaked. I lie. I'm totally freaked.

I'm carrying around a bag with me everyday that is stuffed full of thoughts and prayers for several people who i love dearly that are going through all manner of difficulties. I open the bag and pour my heart into it daily. It just got a little more crowded in there.

Feeling better

Being sick sucks moldy ass. Truly. Antibiotics are finally kicking in and I feel more like myself again. Working on stories and that also helps with my mood. Also during the photoshoot tonight, the members of the band playing kept winking at me. Since they were all hot to hotter - that helped with my ego. ~grin~

Listened to myself on the local radio show that I taped the other day (while feeling like a piece of moldy ass) and was surprised at how good and professional I sounded. I guess doing the weekly show has helped with my "radio persona". LOL! My voice sounded much smoother in the studio than i do in the call-ins. I sure do laugh a lot though.

Bought new shoes today - that ALWAYS makes a girl feel better. Two pairs of uber sexy stilettos. They are gonna kill my feet after ten minutes of walking in them but look totally kickass.

~happy sigh~

Shoes.

Friday Morning Blues

Maybe i'm morose because i'm under the weather. Dark, bleak thoughts keep trying to lay claim to me even though i keep shoving them away.

I'm an analyzer. I look for the subtext in everything and rarely take anything at surface value. This includes conversations with very close friends. I should qualify that I suppose... I don't do it ALL the time or with everybody. But often - yeah.

Sure, there are times I pick apart a conversation - go back over things said to me - and completely misinterpret what was verbalized, applying my own context and evaluation based on where I'm at or where i've been. But I'm also cognizant of that danger and apply a certain amount of self-caution when I catch myself peeling back the onion layers to try and figure out what is REALLY going on... what is really meant... what is really being said... and what was left unsaid.

Is that a woman thing to do? An artist's proclivity? Or just a freaky aspect of the person i am?

I can chew on a conversation for days. Usually it is one that has sent up intuitive red flags. I'll fray the threads and try to follow them mentally to the source, then bind them back to view them from a different angle. Do i ever wave these plucked shreds in the face of the person who coughed them up? No. Hardly ever.

I store them and wait.