My favorite words lately are; dichotomy, revelation, freedom, serendipity, rebellion, transcendence, laughter, and soroptomist. They each hold great meaning for me...well, except for soroptomist. I'm not even really sure what it means, I just the like the way it sounds...is it a more optimistic optimist? Or perhaps a sorority of optimists? Either way, it's gotta be good.
Dichotomy. 2 halves of a whole, division into two parts or kinds. Which is EXACTLY how I feel about where I am on this journey called life. I correct my friends constantly; it's not a mid-life "crisis" at all! This is merely the beginning of the second half of our lives and, oh, What a revelation! What freedom! What rebellion!
Oh yes, rebellion. Nobody knows how to rebel with more stealth and cunning than I. You'd never know was the rebellious sort by looking at me at all. In the first half of my life I was what you might call a "good girl", "plain jane", "average annie" - bespectacled, and freckled, so thin I was nearly invisible (which is how I felt a good deal of the time), a straight "C" student and a commoner among commoners working in the "secretarial pool", as it were.
My acts of rebellion were, by anyone's standards, tame. I had sex for the first time, in my own bed, at the tender age of OMG! brace yourself...16! Oh, I drank my share of Boone's Farm wine and Silver Bullets, and hung out with the "wrong crowd" let me tell you! I even dabbled in drugs - but then, I rebelled against those too and moved to California to marry my high school sweetheart. (ooh, I almost forgot my most shocking & rebellious act of all! At 17, I "seduced" a younger man, a musician who later became quite famous...but more on that later)!
Shortly after the move to California I rebelled against my husband's post college keggers, frat buddies, and dirty underwear, and divorced him.
Other random acts of rebellion included getting my ears pierced twice, listening to hard rock, and much later, when it was just about to become "mainstream", getting tattooed. I tried a nose ring, but my "classic beauty" (i.e. mundane features) wouldn't support it and IT rebelled against my attempts to make it a part of my beauty routine, by glaring at me in the mirror as if screaming, "I don't fit your face, you moron!". It soon went the way of the first husband.
(Oh...minor detour. That brings to mind my favorite insult words which are moron and dumbass. I've tried the more caustic and hard-edged monikers like, "MFer" and "SOB", but they don't roll off my tongue the way they do for Lisa Lampanelli - and besides Buddha sort of frowns on the whole insult thing anyway...which is one of the reasons I'm not a very good Buddhist; the other reason is meat - Oh, which brings to mind a favorite saying which is "Everything in Moderation", and I truly believe that adage, but OH BOY is it BORING!...Forgive me, I digress.)
In a concerted effort to ramp up the "fun" in the second half of my life I am returning to school, walking half-marathons, dying my hair obnoxious colors, and enjoying time with my girl friends. I like to see my impending divorce, sudden blondeness, and new-found spirituality, as a bit rebellious - but it is just pretty much the entire formulaic quotient of a mid-life crisis - without the crisis - or the boob job.
As a matter of fact, I was thinking I was quite cutting-edge, when despite my marital status, I decided to remain living with my ex as house-mates and co-parents. What a disappointment to learn that this "revolutionary" living arrangement is becoming (egads!) quite common. Thanks alot, Diane Sawyer.
With my opportunities (i.e. time and desire), for rebellion dwindling I am heading into the second half of my life with a bucket list in hand and fantasies of anarchy in my head! But, where to begin to nurture and bring into the light my rebellious side, to transcend banality, to leave behind "average annie" in favor of "crazy broad" bodaciousness? I'm thinking SEX! Lots and lots of SEX!
How very serendipitous!
