photo taken by Denise 17 September 2009

So we all know by now if I am going to post, it's likely to be in the morning and yet, we are equally well aware of my penchant for being utterly unpredictable and so, is it expected that I am suddenly posting at 8:38 pm when the Top Chef finale is about to begin in 22 minutes?

photo taken by Denise

God, I love a philosophical puzzle wrapped in an enigma and smothered in a chiffonade of weak logic. My own version of the turducken, I suppose.

Another definitive quality we've all come to depend on? I almost never post photos of myself.

photo taken by Denise

Well hells bells, Loretty*-- what next? Eating at McDonalds? Shopping at Costco? It's hard to say, friends-- change can happen. And you know what? I think middle aged people find that concept really tough, or at least some do.

My current take on middle age is that it's exactly like adolescence (without the vomiting in your parents' bushes, obvs)-- but it's never really explained is it? All I know is that there are better than five couples in our lives (both family and friends) who are currently in the process of getting divorced. It's just like that Four Weddings and a Funeral phase when everyone you knew was getting married and it seemed every other weekend you were forced to participate in one of the great public humiliations: the rehearsal dinner toast (or, maybe that's just me reeling with mortification at public speaking).

But I digress.

Wait--am I digressing? Aren't I talking about change? I am-- and so I have. In my role with SAW, I have to get up on stage quite a bit, it turns out. At first, I whined and complained to anyone who would listen. Lucky for me, I have friends who put up with very little shit and pretty much said, "hey chickie, you created this role which calls for speaking in public so step up and shut up, m'kay?" (naturally that's just me paraphasing what must've been a gentle, kind and supportive nudge-- er, no-- I lie, that's pretty much verbatim).

photo taken by Denise

Let's recap then, shall we? cause I have exactly 10 minutes left here:

1. I used to be chronically depressed, now I have Pollyanna reaching for the duct tape to muzzle me.
2. I used to hate my job and believe it wasn't possible to love what you did all day. Now, my professional life is of my own wacked-out creation and I love every unpredictable bit of it.
3. Lived behind the town liquor store one street over from the highway. Today: Soliden.
4. Photos of myself triggered my self-loathing. Since my photo shoots with Denise Andrade and Thea Coughlin-- I can see myself just as I am, no better, no worse-- no drama. Sweet.

5. Frick, five minutes left-- we'll stop there.

My point is? It's all about change-- and this bit is key-- accepting that you have changed. For some reason, despite wanting to find our best self, we identify so much with what causes us pain that when it comes time to really let it go-- it's a bit of a shock. If I'm not an unbalanced, emotional wreck--who am I? If I'm not an unfulfilled, middle management drone--who am I? and so on . .

While surfing recently I came upon this post at All & Sundry and it resonated with me so deeply:

Sometimes it’s like I believe that all of the changes I’ve made over the last several years are nothing but a whisper-thin veneer covering the real me. The real me never takes on challenges, never steps outside her comfort zone. She’s weak. She’s an addict. She’s a loser. She ruins everything around her.
Why do I still think this way? I’ve worked so hard, I’ve come so far. I want to get rid of this secret, sabotaging conviction that nothing inside of me has changed. Because it has. I have to believe that it has. It’s time to believe that it has.

And the biggest lesson for me in all of this is that you cannot do it without a supportive, creative community rooting in your corner-- at least I can't imagine it otherwise.

There are no few times when I am asked why I blog, what's in it, why I do it and as much as I wish I could say it's all about bringing peace to Afghanistan, or healing babies' cleft palates, or feeding the homeless-- the truth is it's all about me. There's someone out there, reading this thing who leaves me a comment, who sends me an email, who sees me-- sees me trying to do better, trying to make sense of it all, trying to give up ever making sense of it all and says, "hey chickie, you're doing fine. It's not that complicated-- lemmee buy you a beer and we'll have some laughs."

And there you have it. I blog for all the free beer (and the laughs).

photo taken by Denise

Bisous, E

*P.S. if you can name the film that line comes from I will buy you a beer.

P.P.S. if you ever have the opportunity to have a photo shoot with Denise Andrade don't pass it by-- she is a transformer, an alchemist, a goddess from the mist-- she will reveal you. And? she's a total hottie.

P.P.P.S are we DONE with the blue nail polish? Please god say we are done with the blue nail polish, woman . .

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