Today, a new, better version of myself showed up unexpectedly, and boy was I happy it did.
Picture this. A lost/stolen debit card. An unauthorized shopping spree at a Footlocker in Wisconsin. Customer service help from my bank, on the phone from who knows where. A vow to go into a local friendly branch to get a new card. A long, exhausting day at work. An afternoon walk with a dual purpose, to clear my head and get my new card. I arrive at the first branch. “Sorry, we don’t have that machine anymore. You’ll have to go to…”
I don’t think the gentlemen caught my eye roll as I turned and walked out without a goodbye or thank you. Second branch, reached by walking many blocks in the late August humid Manhattan air, “Oh, that card was in your married name, but all your ID is in your maiden name. We’ll have to mail it to you. Should take no more than three to five days.”
Now, normally, my sore feet, sweaty body and grouchy disposition would’ve colluded to throw an epic shit-fit, worthy of a Real Housewives of New Jersey cameo. But no. That’s when this new, better version of me showed up. I took my passport, my work ID, and my school ID back from the local friendly bank branch employee. “Well okay then. I’ll keep an eye out.” Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to get mad, in fact I’m sure I was probably mad, just not mad enough.
As I walked back to my office after my unsuccessful journey I tried to understand what alien had taken over my body. Why didn’t I pull my condescension sounding “Can I talk to your manager? I didn’t even roll my eyes. My mind was peaceful. My mood relaxed. I’d morphed into a peaceful warrior. And it felt good. That was the secret. I wanted to feel good and while throwing an epic shit-fit in the middle of the bank might’ve felt good temporarily, was it worth inviting that craziness into my life for even a minute? Somewhere, somehow I knew the answer was no.
Still can’t believe it. How could such a vibrant being suddenly be no more? But although there’s a great sense of loss, there’s also a huge wave of gratitude and joy. What a body of work left behind for all to consume, debate and love. His story isn’t over. It’s just begun.
I don’t think I’ve ever met a $50 candle I didn’t immediately fall in love with and then immediately ask them to move into my apartment. Sure there’s been a few breakup and requests to move out, but not many. The list is long and winding, but leading the pack is one brand that’s never, ever let me down–Diptyque. Yes, their expensive, but it’s just money and the smell. Ah, the smell. Let’s put it this way. Diptyque made me appreciate the aroma of Patchouli. Uh huh. That magical. Lately I’ve been finding my favorites at online shops, like Fragrancenet.com. And when they’re offering 25% off for first time buyers, (yeah, ok, maybe I use more than 1 email address. Maybe.) plus free shipping, that adds up to almost a $20 savings for me. And now, for you. Enjoy.
Lipglass. Heroine from MAC. At dinner, at a bar, in the ladies room. Every time I take it out to re-apply someone grabs it and goes, “Hey, what’s this?” Before I can tell them the specifics, they’re swiping their lips–eh, not my favorite thing to see happen–and vowing to purchase. And so far it looks good on all sorts of complexions. Stop by your local MAC counter and take it out for a test drive.
Yesterday, while waiting for my sweetheart in the Time Warner Center, I was somehow sucked into the H&M store. I’m not a big shopper, but a few things caught my eye. One of them was a super cute, inexpensive romper. My usual worries with a romper is that it makes you look too young or shows too much of your lady bits. Not this one. It covered all the appropriate parts and had plenty of move about room. I was in love. I bought two. Thank you, baby, for being late.
I’d say 75% of the time I have no idea what I’m doing. Not in any particular area, just in life in general. That’s a pretty substantial percentage of time to be clueless, but I accept it and I’m ready to be done sweating it. I’ve decided to fake it until I make it. That means I’m going to act like I know what I’m doing 100% of the time, even though I don’t, and hopefully, I’ll look like I know what I’m doing close to 100% of the time. I’m pretty sure I can pull this off. Wish me luck.
I’ve been thinking about being stuck lately. Stuck in jobs, romantic relationships, housing situations, friendships, belief systems. I’m tired of always finding myself exactly where I was. I want to be somewhere new. Somewhere stimulating and interesting and warm. I want to re-create the mystery of kindergarten, where the alphabet opened up a door to words and books and thoughts and ideas. I want to remember what it felt like to put my small self on the Nina or Santa Maria and taste the sea air in my lungs as I rode alongside Mr. Columbus. I want to be more than curious. I want to be engaged.