the eye of frustration

Thought provoke - or just a poke?
I sometimes wonder why my thoughts and musings center around those of the sexual nature. Frustration? or to be totally crass - not getting enough? I am thinking it's more in what lies in the rub - again, unmistakable sexual inuendo - but it's what I am.

Recently, I was out with some friends and invited over for drinks at a friend of a mutual acquaintenance and I thought - what the hell, why not? Why not should have been why not! After refusing his drunken come on, and his subsequent pouting (which surprisingly reminded me of my son when he was four - complete with bottom lip jutting out) and the 'i next to never get to cuddle' comment which was such a thinly veiled come-on I couldn't believe it...I as-graciously-as-I-could-muster departed from the scene but not before his remark that I was leaving waaay too late, that I had overstayed my welcome. Yes, I know. This was the tantrum of a spurned little boy in a man's body, but it got me to thinking: how can I still be so naive at my age? I actually, really thought that he had invited me over because he enjoyed my company, my little spurs and jokes, I had thought I might possibly have a new friend to spar with (he seemed intelligent enough)...but I was wrong. He even had gone on to tell me that I had misrepresented myself.

Now, taking this babe-in-the-woods out of the equation, it brings me back to that age-old problem: can men and women really be friends? I would like to think yes. Largely, because I have men friends. Do I think they want to have sex with me? No, well, maybe one or two - but others, no. And for those who think that I am just blissfully unaware - I do, in fact, know this for certain - largely because I am not their type. That is to say, I am a woman and that's not what they're looking for.

I really do believe that men and women can be friends - as long as expectations are clearly articulated at the beginning or as other feelings develop, as uncomfortable as it may be - these too are shared.
Oh well, I will count myself lucky on this point. I don't think I need a friend like that anyway...what lay beneath his whiskey-soaked demeanor was a bit of a tempest, and I definitely did not want to get stuck in the eye of that storm...or his frustration.

need to please

I was spending some time with a friend the other night and he intimated that I am a 'people pleaser' - that I want people to like me...and it got me to thinking as these things tend to do.
Aren't we all people pleasers?
Do we ever do anything to make people purposefully "dis"-like us?

I know that I have done things that have resulted in people disliking me - but I do not take this lightly. Sometimes, you just have to do things, make the tough call and hurt someone in the short term so that in the long run - they're much better off. I think this is the thought behind telling someone goodbye when your relationship's come to an end, when it's reached its peak and it's time that you went your separate ways. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it's unfortunate but it still has to be done. And I, I am terrible at that. It's so hard to say goodbye when you know it's going to hurt but it needs to be done to set that person free...is that pleasing people? or am I just looking to please me?

The truth is in the rant

So, it's birthday season in my little circle of friends. We celebrate some birthdays, some milestones and some experiences over a few too many glasses of wine. Loving the malbecs, by the way, they are an argentinian wine with a full flavour, leaving delightful hints of spice and oak for a finish. LOVE them.

but, I digress, so let's get back to the story.

Because it's birthday season, I am often finding myself at the card store. This time, I decided to take one of my friends with me. I thought it might be fun for us to look over the cards together - exchange witticisms over some of the cheesier lines, lament over the ones with the hot young bucks on them, etc, etc, etc...so I am standing by the 'humourous' section and she is standing by the 'Ann Geddes' section - and I'm sorry, I know a lot of people love the little babies propped up into leaves and flowers but I personally am reminded of Jonathan Swift's 'A Modest Proposal' and I start thinking about salt and pepper. Don't know the reference? Look it up and then go eat your spawn.

Again with the digression...

Back to the card store and trying to pick out a birthday card. I start hearing these heavy grunts and snorts, so I turn to look at my friend. She's standing in the middle of the aisle, hands on her hips, looking at the cards and getting very red in the face as she 'hummmphs' and 'tsks' some more. She's angry - you can see the flints of fury in her eyes. She notices me looking at her and spits out the following (I can't use quotation marks, but I'm hoping you can imagine a 40-ish woman, hands on hips, veins bulging from the side of her neck, eyes flashing, nostrils flaring, slapping the front of her chest. spit flying from her mouth as she lays this out in a steady, octave-climbing soliloquy):

Do you see this? Do you see these cards? They're disgusting. I mean really disgusting! This just irks me! No, it downright makes me f**in' mad!! 'To my Wife'... To my darling Wife... To my Sweetheart... To the woman I love....Do you see this? THIS is why it took so long for us to get the vote!! THIS is why we still suffer under the oppression of men! Even on our birthdays, we are still nothing without him. Do you see it? To MY wife, to MY sweetheart, to MY darling...we don't even need to have names anymore! We're just a mere possession to men - my this, my that - can you believe it?? We're HIS and that's all that matters!! We're no different than his car, his shoes...he's PISSED on this stick and now IT'S HIS. Do you notice - we don't have a name anymore? Just his possession - and did you notice how every man you get involved with comes up with some stupid pet name for you? HUGABOO? BUTTONS? MUFFIN? Do those ring a bell??- those names are HIS names for you, because your name no longer matters! You no longer matter! You are nothing outside of him! Your existence is FOR HIM, BECAUSE OF HIM AND ONLY FOR HIM...that's why I'm single!! that's why I know that I DO NOT NEED A MAN!!....

I stood there, hearing her rant and trying unsuccessfully to interject with 'they're terms of endearment' and 'did you see the similar ones for the husbands?' but she was not having it. She was almost screaming the last of it:'that's why I'm single! that's why I know that I DO NOT NEED A MAN....'

My answer? You say that's why I'm single, why you know you don't need a man? No, sweetheart, that's why you need to get laid...get rid of some of that angst with a good strong shudder...and maybe a glass of malbec.

good enough

Sooo, I was out with my girlfriends - celebrating a birthday party, and wishing I could enjoy myself but finding it extremely difficult as I sat there in pain. My back has not been the same since a car accident way back in 2002, and sometimes, if I push it a little too much, it acts up and leaves me wincing in pain or sitting there, trying hard to disguise the spasms.

It's times like these that I am overwhelmed by how much self pity I am capable of. It's disappointing really. I look across the table at my friends and realize how much I love them - and how there are pieces of each of them I wish I could copy and sew into my soul, in an effort to become a little more secure, a little more sure and a lot less 'me'. I am well known for my fairly constant attack on myself - and never feeling quite good enough.

Several months back, I had a male friend tell me that I was 'kinda fat but I was cute so it was okay'. It hurt. And, in true Serena fashion, I hold on to those words rather than the compliments I have received from other friends. Why do you think that is? What is it about me that makes me want to loathe me? (for Alice Cooper fans - that was dangerously close to my favourite song of all time "Is it my Body")

Self-loathing. is this a feminine condition? Why the incessant need to never feel good enough? To cut ourselves down until we teeter and twist, crashing our tender egos to the ground in a sobbing state of woe?

The irony is I am told that I exude confidence. This is something that confuses me. So far from the truth in so many aspects, but so true in others. I don't think I'm stupid. I do think I am worthy of love. I do have a sense of humour - and I tend to show it at the most inopportune times - but yes, it is something I am and feel comfortable about - comfortable in my own skin, as it were. But other areas, I don't feel that way. I lack that knowledge, that assuredness. So what to do? How do I build that.

My answer lies back at the pub where my friends sit and I think to myself that these people accept me for me. Perhaps I can obtain the attributes about them that I so admire, just by being around them. One of my friends is so very sure, very black and white - and from her I would like to glean her strength in character, and her unabashed belief in herself. Another friend is an overcomer - someone who is tried and true, content, loving and accepting. She continues to walk with her head held high, and looking for whatever life holds. Another is an optomist - snapping pictures every few minutes, looking to capture the moment, enjoying life and wanting to capitalize on everything that it has to offer - not a single moment wasted. Is it possible to capture these attributes, and insert them into my psyche. Then, perhaps I could accept me for me and stop measuring myself to an unrealistic ideal? Is it really possible for me to really feel good enough? Time - and acceptance - will tell.

Baring my boobs...er...soul

No. No, I was not in Vancouver and hanging out by the penalty box.
Although, sometimes I might belong in a penalty box - and yeah, I've been known to frequent a hockey game or two...but I wouldn't be caught dead in a Vancouver Canucks jersey! I'd rather run naked through the streets of Calgary.

Speaking of naked - it's about time I bared it.
I...I am admittedly a less than confident woman.
There. I said it. It's out there. I have self esteem issues.
Sometimes I don't particularly like myself (strangely, this happens a lot on my dates). Surprised? You shouldn't be. Anyone who knows anything about me knows there's a little neurotic side. But it's okay, I've learned to embrace the little beast - and I've found a few outlets to let her out, dabble, tease...and then fold her back in again before she gets the rest of us in trouble.

As some of you may know, I have recently taken my writing antics onto a little stage - the comedy stage, and I have to admit - I've been bitten. It's strangely addicting. It's a high like I haven't felt since I ran track and field - a euphoria that leaves everything else pale, a drug that I think about daily and wonder if I can handle my next fix if it's not in an enclosed, carefully planned and safe environment. You see, I have been doing this stand up with the help of a group called Wit and Writing for Women. This group has taught me some basic skills for comedy, encouraged my writing, and has also arranged for those of us who were interested - to go on stage in front of a live audience that we have invited. It's a lot of work. a lot of fun, and in a very safe environment.

But now enters my jonesing...I've hit the stage twice - and I liked it. By jove, i think I LOVE IT. As you may guess - my jokes are a little racy (I love to talk about sex and my experiences - or, the lack thereof...). One of our group told me that her husband said to her after our last show: 'that Serena, she just gets dirtier and dirtier...' I'm not quite sure how to take that, but I've decided it's okay. I mean - 'cause it's true. True confession: I like dirty jokes. I like to make fun of my experiences. I like to talk about my frustrations. I'm just not doing it in the comforts of my home or at my psychologist's office - I'm doing it on a stage.

But now is the next step. I'm thinking about taking off the water wings and jumping in the deep end. I'm not going to plug my nose, either. I'm going in. Eyes squeezed shut, heart pounding in my chest and I'm baring it all, baby...and I promise to share the experience.

I'll bare it - if you'll read it!

Hiatus

sometimes you just have to take a breather....I mean a real honest to goodness breather. And that's exactly what I've done...and man, did it feel good.

As my first blog back, I thought I would try and share a new theory - a new outlook, a new vision. Well to me, anyway. And really, isn't a blog about the person writing it and their incessant and pompous need to share their inner most workings with an unsuspecting public? Nah...nobody reads these things anyway.

Back to my thoughts...
I was lamenting the other day about the woes of my trivial and mournful life. How come I can't find true love? Why can't I make more money? Why am I always behind the 8-ball? Why am I not happy? When will this all end? etc. - you know the list. It's the hamster wheel of negativity - and when it starts to spin, it can really spin...but I had a thought. Okay, maybe it wasn't really mine. Maybe it was spurred on by a couple of truthful friends. They were talking to me about attitude. They talked to me about my vision board. I nodded. I listened (sort of), but I really wasn't letting it sink into this thick head of mine. well, until now.

Attitude. I have attitude - trust me, I have it in spades...and sometimes in 4 inch heels. But attitude can derail you and cause you to sink where you need not sink. Attitude can make you boldly go where you haven't gone before. Attitude is about perception. It's like this: I choose to think I'm sinking - therefore I sink. I choose to envision that I am frustrated in my job...and guess what? I am. I choose to let little things bother me...and so I do. I choose to think that the grass is greener elsewhere...and so it appears to be. Because that is what I have chosen to envision. I have chosen to believe that things could be better and that things are bad for me. And so now that is exactly what I see. I am a product of my own negativity. I have concentrated so long on how bad things are that I now actually believe it. Wait, that should be past tense: I believed it. And then a few friends (unbeknownst to one another) dropped the seeds of 'attitude' and 'vision' on me and now here I sit, writing a blog and feeling that there may be something to this.

Back to the hamster wheel. I choose to think, so the hamster spins. I choose to keep thinking and so the hamster keeps spinning. What I realize now is that it's my choosing. I control how fast it spins and how much time I want to spend on it. Here's the trick - great for all of those suffering from an inner control freak - REALIZE that it's 'YOU' doing the spinning - not the wheel. The wheel don't spin, without you on it. The negative thoughts spin the wheel so we feel so chaotic and out of control, but if we just change our perception, change our attitude - suddenly, that wheel isn't spinning anymore. Nothing physically has changed...but my perception of it has - and that's what's makes the difference.