These Are My Cards. How Was My Poker Face?

Written June 23, 2008

I want to start this off by saying "Fuck you, I'm in my 20s."
Any good personal growth starts off with "fuck you", right?

I suppose I'm on the defensive because I'm worried that we're not all human and you won't get it. Of course, we are all human, we all spend intervals in our days mentally torturing ourself and you will absolutely get it.

I'm in a time. I'm in a zone. I'm in a space. It's what you do when you're in your 20s and act like Oprah. Such as I do. I'm feeling very 'Oprah'. I'm in a state of puzzlement, growth, whatever the hell you wanna call it - that's where I am.

I took this week off to check in with myself. Recently I had some major life plans change and when someone asked me what my plan was now, I had absolutely no idea. Well you can't live with absolutely no idea. So I just wanted to kind of have some re-arrangement time. Some "get your shit together" time as some might say.

So as it was, I was already feeling out of order. My deck needed some shuffling for sure. Then, as MySpace was kind enough to tell me, my ex-husband got remarried. Oh. Ok. And a photo to go with it? Lovely. The last time I saw him looking dapper, standing next to a pretty little gal in a wedding dress, the pretty little gal was me. So this was new. And visually perplexing.

Instantly I had one of those dreamed up conversations that takes place somewhere in the middle of what looks like Purgatory with the two of us standing there:
"I'm in love and happily married. Where are you at?"
"Oh... I'm uhh... well I'm just over here...um, aimlessly wandering life."

And because life is shades of gray, I'm ok to say that I am extremely excited for him, happy with where I am at, sad for the couple we once were, loving and regretting parts of the past, and incredibly stoked for the future. All in one big ball. And while part of the reason why we're not together is because I needed to aimlessly wander life - it's gotten a little old. Time to wrap it up.

So here I am. In the Oprah Zone. Even reading an Oprah Book Club book. And can I just stop here to give you a piece of advice. When you're connecting with a book and really relating to it's main character, it's probably not a good idea to look up reviews of said book.
And I quote: "She is the most vapid, narcicistic, insecure, self-absorbed, spoiled brat I have ever had to listen to. I could not wait to get her whiny, foolish voice out of my head."

Dot. Dot. Dot.

Although I've said it myself before. This term self help is just another way to say self obsessed, self absorbed. But if you go on this trip, hopefully you make it worth while by coming back with better function and production in the overall world. I know listen to me, I'm fucking Ghandi already. Give me time, Deepak Chopra, I'll show you.

But right now this is me. This is my hand of cards. A few years ago I once asked Rob, "Am I crazy or is this just my 20s?" His answer, I will never forget:

"a little bit of column A, and a little bit of column B."