My Mortal Prison

So the other day I was in the car with my parents and I don't remember the unfolding of this conversation, but it happened...

My mom brought up some incident where someone maybe claimed to have seen their body as they died and their spirit drifted off into heaven- or maybe it was all hypothetical. As we soaked in the thought casually she asked us, "That would be so weird. What would you be thinking as you drifted away and saw your own body lying there?"

"WOOHOO! I am so done with you!" I shouted without too much thought.

It caught them both off guard but they both started laughing. My dad started nodding in agreement and said he might feel the same way. My mom just kind of shrugged and smiled at the thought.

I said, "What? You don't think Grandma felt that way?"

We all concluded that I'm sure she did. If you're a blog follower you'll know that she passed last April after a long battle with an aging body. It was awful. I just felt so much pity for her as it continued, and as sad as it was to see her go, we all knew she was shouting praises as she left us all behind. My mom even said she felt like other close family members who have passed kind of lingered or looked back, but not our sweet Grandma! She was over it.

So, to give a little substance to my comment, I just feel imprisoned by my mortal body sometimes. A lot of times. And I have to admit that I'm grateful for every pain free day full of "normal" activity, and I've had a lot of them lately.

Still, arthritis is not kind on the human body. It's extremely crippling when it gets severe and the shame of being in a wheelchair at 25 is something you don't quickly forget. The embarrassment of having someone assist you in the bathroom can steal your dignity, and the mental adjustments you have to make to accommodate your physical limitations are more suited for someone three times your age.

So it always has me wondering...

why does my body have a hard time doing this....

While other people can use their bodies to do this!!

It amazes me. I don't even know how people come up with these things. "I know! Let's try...."

Really? C'mon. That's just too amazing.

Struggling with physical problems in my twenties constantly has me worrying about what it will be like when I'm in my thirties, or forties, or fifties, or beyond! I mean, if it's bad now, what's to come? So you can maybe understand why my spirit will be rejoicing at it leaves my mortal body in the dust. Not to be morbid, but it sure makes death seem a little bit wonderful.

Homebody

Have I ever told you that I lead two different lives?

One where I'm energetic and spunky, out and about, doing everything I can conquer in the short hours of a day, and taking the world in one piece at a time.

And one where I'm a hermit. It's unexciting and dull.... and for some reason I find it rejuvenating.

I've met some homebodies in my time and although I don't think I'm the most extreme, I can definitely hold my own. My husband finds it disturbing when I haven't left the house for three days (and I'm talking not even to get the mail), so he'll say, "C'mon! Let's go somewhere and get out of the house." Most the time I look baffled and think, "uh-oh, has it really been that long again?"

It just doesn't bother me. I feel like there are plenty of things to accomplish within the walls of my own home, but it's not always about accomplishment either. I like peace and quiet. I like being left to my own thoughts. I like not having to go through the hassle of getting out the door every day of my life (I count it at a blessing, in fact).

I do love to travel, so when I'm out, I AM OUT! I do and see everything I can and I love every little second of it.

But when I'm home, I like to be home.

I think in some ways it's kind of a burden. I realize when I've been home for a long time and in hibernating mode I sometimes have trouble shifting the gears back. I don't like to talk to strangers or making small talk and I have a hard time coming back out of my shell, but it eventually it wears off and I'm back to my first personality again.

The adventurous side of me is definitely more interesting, but I guess it's because of the other side that I really develop any depth.

Coming Right Up: The 7 Year Itch

Yep, it's upon us. Our seventh wedding anniversary is only a few months away. It came up the other day in a conversation with my mom and sister and my mom said, "oh, you know what that means- the seven year itch!" I could only laugh and say that I'd gotten it a year early and experienced the six year itch.

I've been familiar with the term nearly as long as I can remember. As a big Full House fan growing up they did a parody episode called "The Seven Month Itch," where Uncle Jesse had been living with and helping raise the girls only to crave his bad boy college life again. A completely understandable desire now that I'm an adult.

Then there is the famous movie, Marilyn Monroe and all. The wife and kids are shipped off for the summer and she moves in the building and naively tempts the man. And in case you haven't seen it or don't know, it's the one with the famous white dress scene. It's slow like older movies can be, but still quite good and entertaining.

My interpretation of the modern seven year itch has nothing to do with being tempted by another relationship, but has everything to do with an anxiety to just be free. Free from the responsibilities of marriage.

I have to admit, I have it pretty damn good. I think if people are in fact "meant for each other," then we are (although I personally don't believe in it). Still, I feel like we chose wisely and have reaped plenty of rewards for it.

So I have a great marriage.

But still.....

At six years I was grateful but feeling smothered. For no particular reason and definitely not by any cause of my husband. I just.... yearned for something that wasn't there. There really is no better way to describe it than an itch. I found myself easily annoyed and wanting to do whatever I wanted to do. I didn't even want to be in the presence of a marriage. I just felt like I was over it, although I would never, ever want it to end because deep down inside I knew this too would pass.

I have a few theories on why this happens. I think it's mostly because when you get married you are two individuals, very separate and distinct. But as time moves on your personalities, interests, beliefs, and characteristics blend together until you don't know which ones you brought to the table in the first place. It's almost like losing a sense of who you are, even though you may be a better person because of it. An itch.

In time, the itch relieved itself. It didn't take long and there wasn't any defining moment. It just left secretly in the night, the exact same way it had come.

Now that I know what it really feels like, I wonder if I was just getting a taste for the real one- the seven year. I mean, generations of people have surely used this term for a reason? There can't be a mistake on the timing? If so, I'm definitely in for it.

I know every marriage has it's ups and downs. Even the strongest marriages. We happen to be going through a very rough patch right now. There is really no tangible reason for it, but there is a huge void and a large distance between us at the moment. It's a matter of life pulling us in two different directions and living separate lives together. Everything demanding our time at the moment is consuming on both parts and none of the reasons overlap. Thus we both spend all our efforts in fixing these things and have none left for each other. It's rough.

The reason I mention it is because it's lonely and desperate- definitely for me, and surely for him. I know we're gonna get through it, but right now there's no time for damage control and there isn't any time in the foreseeable future. So instead of patching up the leaks, they just get bigger as the rain keeps coming. I'm just not sure we could handle an itch on top of it all.

But.....

We have three months. And I know for a fact that at least the sun will be shining by then, and that is reason enough for me to wait it out.

The Suffocations of Suburbia

Any tv show I've almost ever watched is based in suburbia. Or maybe just the ones I paid attention to growing up. I guess it makes perfect sense. I mean since 1950, more Americans have lived in suburbia than anywhere else. Both of my parents grew up in the suburbs and I think a few of my grandparents.

Recently I watched the entire series of The Wonder Years. I love that show. After Winnie's brother dies in Vietnam and Kevin kisses her for the first time he says, "Whenever some blowhard starts talking about the anonymity of the suburbs or the mindlessness of the tv generation... we know that inside each one of those identical boxes, with it's dodge parked out front and it's white bread on the table and it's tv set glowing blue in the falling dusk, there were people with stories. There were families bound together in the pain and the struggle of love. There were moments that made us cry with laughter. And there were moments, like that one, of sorrow and wonder."

And although I think the sentiment is beautiful and very true, the suburbs still make me wary for some reason or another.

I've definitely done my fair share of time in the suburbs. I grew up in the suburbs without a doubt, and even though we moved a handful of times growing up, it was always from one suburb to another, usually only a mile or two from the last. Even in my married life we've spent more time in the suburbs than anywhere else. And can I just say- wow. That was really something!

I read an article only a few years back about my own generation. Most of us grew up in the suburbs and many of us are detesting them now. Not a majority, but quite possibly in the future. This article made the point that so many of us came from broken homes (which I did not... at least by definition), that many didn't correlate successful families to the kind of environment the suburbs provide. Makes perfect sense to me. It also pointed out that our generation is much more aware of what is going on in the world around them- we are going greener, we are repopulating urban centers, we are revitalizing entire cities, etc. I wish I remember where I'd read it and I'd link it here, but the point being that my generation is going through a major paradigm shift and ditching conventional for new ways of life.

As I read this I thought how appealing all of this sounded to me, and how much of it was already true about me. I would love to walk to the market every day. I would love to ditch a car (or two) and use public transportation. I would love to buy organic foods, bamboo floors, and hemp sofas. I would trade (in a heartbeat) my children each having their own rooms for the cultural experiences that urban centers provide. I would rather pay very little for a public park than a lot of money for a huge yard (and have to take care of it).

I've spent a fair amount of time in cities. I love the city! Still, I'd like to have a family someday and the two are not completely cohesive, although it is possible and I admire and secretly envy those who do it. But, I was having a bit of an epiphany as I read this article in Hoboken, NJ where we were living for the summer.

I love Hoboken. It is the greatest little city right outside of Manhattan with a completely urban feel. It has great restaurants, beautiful parks, local bakeries, stunning views, convenient transportation, and believe it or not- neighbors who know each other! It's the "Manhattan for Families" as my husband and I call it, and with a much cheaper price tag. I was expressing my love for it one time in front of a friend of my parents and it was all he could do to keep from scowling. "When I lived in New Jersey we'd never dare even drive within ten miles of that place!" he said. This was about forty years ago and it's amazing how it's this hip new urban center that people flock to now. Goodbye crime, hello play dates!

At the time Hoboken was much more appealing than the suburban dream home we'd been living in for about three years. Sure, it was gorgeous and wonderful, but we were definitely in over our heads- and in more ways than one! We didn't know it at the time as well as we should have, but we were the definition of house poor- strapped by a mortgage and the promise of the American Dream. The notion of "owning your home is the way to wealth" doesn't hold much water for me after that experience.

It also was an odd place for a childless couple. Eventually we found a cozy place to fit in with our surroundings and neighbors, but it took longer than it takes a family, that's for sure. I knew we were much better suited for a cozy loft at the time, but we were in the mode of looking forward, thinking that we knew where we were headed. Wow, were we wrong!

And shall we visit the drama for just a moment? Holy moly. People in the suburbs who put on these shows of lives that are somehow "put together" were in fact anything but. I think maybe this is why I enjoy Mad Men so much. Lots and lots of suppressed feelings and secrets and lies. It definitely explained the term "desperate housewife."

So why do people do it? Is there something in my psyche that led me in that direction?

I'm almost positive. I moved there as if the decision had been made twenty years ago. For all the same reasons that I think people fulfill "expectations" without thinking through them first. Even the big ones, like getting married and having babies. Sad, but true. And the only sad part is where they end up because of it, because these should be the most momentous, celebrated occasions of our lives and I know that they can be under the right circumstances.

Before I married The Man, he used to talk about this pretend life that he pictured- white picket fence and all that came along with it.

Now, I'm much more in the "let's write our own destiny" mode. The same mode that makes me want to find a modern loft in the city.

Still, I have that daunting feeling of "what might the future hold?"

I turn once again to Kevin Arnold who said, "I grew up in the suburbs. I guess most people think of the suburb as a place with all the disadvantages of the city, and none of the advantages of the country, and vice versa. But, in a way, those really were the wonder years for us there in the suburbs. It was kind of a golden age for kids."

Would I be depriving my future children of something if they were to be raised in a city? Am I preventing them from putting down roots if we move around a bit? Or am I offering them unique life experiences that we might all benefit from?

It's hard to say really.

For now, I think I've settled on something in the middle (in my mind that is). Someplace near downtown with a little bit of room to spread out, but without the ugly commute. Maybe something like this:

I guess we all have to determine what we want and find our own little piece of heaven... and I can guarantee I will never find mine in a tract home.

Let's Take a Trip!

So, here's my vacation dilemma. I like tropical. I don't really see a need to visit snow, especially since I've lost the beloved ability to ski which I'm still somewhat bitter about. However, I currently live on the west coast and let's just discuss getaways for a moment:

• California- nice. beautiful. I love it, in fact. But it is hardly tropical and rarely warm.
• Hawaii- I'm not rich so that basically rules that out.
• Alaska- the opposite of tropical (though I would like to go at least once)
• Mexico.

Ok Mexico- you are warm, you are generally affordable, and you are within reach.....

But I don't really like you.

Yes, I have been to Mexico and been less than impressed. Now before you Mexico fanatics get all up in my business, just hear me out.

It seems like anytime someone is selling Mexico, I see pictures and ads like this:

I even think to myself, "wow, that looks nice."

Yet somehow when I arrive in Mexico, it looks like this:

Just to be fair, I have to give Puerta Vallarta some props, but otherwise I could care less about going to Mexico. I've been to Cabo (American Mexico), Mazatlan (just shoot me because that would probably be more enjoyable), and Cozumel (relaxing is great but could we possibly find something to do here?). Oh and lest we forget Tijuana.

So let's revisit our options here...

Hawaii?

Ahhhh, yessss. I love Hawaii.

Oh but wait....

back to the money scenario.

I've been to Hawaii twice. I had a great time both times. The first time I left I actually cried. But by the time I save up enough money for the hubby and I to go to Hawaii, this looks much more enticing for the same price:

Or better yet, this:

Point of this rant being that basically all the places I'd like to go visit are far away and consume much of our available time off in travel time. So.... I guess what I'm saying is....

we should definitely move.

May I Speak Candidly For a Moment?

I guess that's all I really do here. Still, there are some personal things that I keep to myself. Today I just need to vent.

What is up with being a woman? I mean, seriously- it can be so miserable sometimes.

Like today, for me.

I've been on birth control since before I got married (approximately 7 years now) and I have loved almost every second of it. And I am serious when I say the word love. It makes me feel completely balanced and in control of my otherwise erratic female body. I was so mad at my mother for not "cluing me in" earlier since I felt so much better on it when I started. I don't understand people who hate birth control. In fact, I think you're psycho. But, I know that everyone's bodies react differently to different things (blah, blah, blah). I've been on maybe 4 different types of birth control and I love each one just a little bit more.

So recently, I've stopped taking birth control (feel free to draw your own assumptions, although I will confirm or deny nothing) and you might as well just put me in the crazy house. My moods are haywire, my body is doing crazy things, and my sanity has gone right out the window! I feel like a walking nightmare.

On top of that, my body is re-regulating itself to it's natural cycles.... the worst part of all. For three months now I have gotten the periods from hell that only continue to get progressively worse. I guess the good news is that they are regular? That way I at least expect them. Still, I basically want to die. I never had them this bad before I went on birth control, so why now?

Last night's cramps kept me up half the night writhing in pain and self loathing for my body. No pain killers (not even the hard stuff) could touch them. I felt like there was an entire organ inside rotting and trying to escape from my body with a vengeance. I hardly ever got cramps before, and only mildly and rarely while on the pill so this is just unbearable.

They say the pill releases the same hormones as being pregnant, so maybe I'll be one of those crazy people who LOVES pregnancy and every other woman wants to beat down with her handbag.

I remember in eighth grade a group of girls were talking about this subject and one said, "All I know is I'm gonna have a lot to say about it to God someday!" My feelings today tell me I'll be recruiting an army to do the same.

Rebel Without a Cause

As the oldest child I was born with that "eager to please" gene. A lot of first children get that. Sometimes it's built in and sometimes it's harvested through expectation, but whatever the reason, it definitely exists. Even as an adult I feel like different pressure is placed on me by being the oldest child. It's probably all in my mind at this point, but I'm not sure I'll really ever overcome it.

Because of this attitude I feel like I'm very much a Type A personality. I feel like I have a strong moral compass and try not only to do what's right, but try to do everything to the very best of my abilities. When things go bad I aim to do things better than everyone else. I think most of the praise I thrived off of as a child came from completing things well or better than expected, particularly from my father. There is something in me that just never wants to disappoint him and impressing him is even more rewarding.

This is all well and good, but since I feel like I live by a high moral standard and value responsibility, I don't feel like I need much guidance (a terrible flaw of mine). I'd rather do things myself than delegate them to others and I'm very independent. If someone doubts me, I'll do whatever I can to prove them wrong. I guess my driving force is the three year old attitude of, "I'll do it the way I want and I'll do it myself!" So, (I'm sort of feeling exposed here) stubbornness is a real strong trait of mine- feel free to ask my husband about it.

Because of all these things, there is nothing I hate more in this whole world than being told what to do. I can't stand it. Since I'm usually the bossy one, I hate getting a taste of my own medicine. I will refuse to do something just because of the nature in which it was insisted. Requests are fine, but telling me the way it is is NOT effective.

Prime example-

In high school my parents gave me a curfew (I had one earlier, but it never mattered because I couldn't drive anyway and neither could my friends). It was a pretty regular curfew of midnight. I felt like that was pretty fair and there were few nights that I'd prefer to be out later than that anyway. But they TOLD me the way it was, and that did not go well. The firmer my curfew got, the longer I'd push it back. I'd literally be doing nothing interesting, but I wanted them to know that I could manage myself and make my own decisions. Even looking back, I know I could (unlike many teens). Sometimes I'd sit in my car around the corner waiting for my curfew to pass just to piss them off (ridiculous, I know- shall we revisit the word stubborn?).

The curfew situation got worse and worse and so did my relationship with my parents and our tolerance for each other. One day my mom finally said to me, "Ok, I trust you. You have no more curfew."

FREEDOM!

Thank goodness I had a mother willing to recognize the problem. In the following months I can't even tell you how many times I was home by 10:30, just because there was nothing interesting to do. My parents were in heaven and the one or two nights I stayed out past midnight worried them much less. I'd usually roll in not much later and I had usually fallen asleep at my friend's house anyway. It was glorious.

My sister on the other hand, had no curfew and would be out ALL night long. So my parents gave her a curfew and she was rarely a minute late. She would have been in big trouble and she knew it.

We were just different kids and my parents learned it early enough to adapt. Different things just work for different people- and boy, are we different people!

Still, I do things like this all the time. If someone tells me to do something, I won't just to spite them. It's quite ridiculous. I guess I feel like I was a good kid that didn't need monitoring so this was my only was to rebel without making myself unhappy. That definitely carried into adulthood. I'm not saying I always made, or continue to make, sound judgements, but I'm pretty capable and I just don't like being bossed around.