Archive | October, 2012

Fine Tuning

31 Oct

Remember that song from the nineties? Life, oh life, oh life… This is the new ringtone of my existence. Life, oh life. And speaking of ringtones, I need to get a new ringtone for my phone. Why is this so important? I don’t know. But in times of emotional turmoil, there’s just nothing like a new ringtone to help define who you are.

So let’s see, what exactly am I looking for? Something strong. Something that’ll remind me, everytime my phone rings, that I’m ma-own-woman, I can take on anything that comes my way. I can do it on my own.

Hmmm. Maybe Beyonce can give me something. All the ladies independent… The only thing is, I’m not trully independent. I’m actually pretty reliant on Mr. Dad right now, at least money-wise. Do you pay my bills? Yeah. Do you pay for my automobile? Yeah. OK. I’m thinking Destiny’s child won’t cut it.

Maybe what I really need is just a feel good song. Something that’ll just make me want to dance everytime I hear it. But something tells me Shawty Got Low doesn’t exactly reflect the way I want to portray myself right now. Neither does Sexy Bitch. Maybe later on when I’m on the rebound.

So more serious stuff. Radiohead? Depressing. Assaf Avidan? It’s over, it’s over, it’s over? Super-Mega-Depressing. Amy Winehouse? You go back to her and I’ll go back to black? I don’t think so.

Jeez, why is it all the songs I like are either utterly depressing or about hoes?

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A Lick on my Shoulder

30 Oct

This is me trying to cope. My shrink says I need to accept the definition of who I am. Single-momming it, that’s what this blog is going to be about.

The five-month-old love of my life is sleeping in his crib and rather than catching up on my sleep I’m writing. For those who write, you may know the feeling – a sense of overwhelming emotions that seem to choke you up and can only be released by either writing, or sex. The latter I currently have no partner for. Thank god you don’t need a partner to write.

Everything I knew to be real, true, normal, life, for better or worse – sort of fell apart recently.  And now, here I am. Brand new life in my house. Everything I ever wanted, but not quite the way I planned it.

I get up every morning and hold him in my arms. He grabs my pajama top and tries to chew it. He stuffs his face in my shoulder and licks it. And that moment, every morning, it feels like when the battery on your laptop dies and you plug it in and charge it, and your computer sighs with a high pitched beep, signalling that it’s not going to die on you, it’s going to live.

So this is me, trying to live. Not just live, trying to be happy.

To quote The Little Engine that Could: I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.