Friday, May 27, 2011

The Learning Curve for Us Almost Half-Century Olds

My learning curve is usually two wheels on the wall at 200mph, but don't let that scare you. Here are a few things I have learned in the last 43 years of living:

You WILL use the math you learned in high school. When you're desperately trying to understand your second grader's homework problems.

Reading and understanding maps is a valuable skill. It may be us paper users that killed off the forests, but at least we'll be able to find our way out of the rubble when the aliens attack and shoot down all you techies' gps systems.

Ditto for counterfeiting money. (just kidding Mr. Government)

Being politically correct is for the birds. If I have offended any birds by making that statement I heartily apologize, I never meant to piss you off and will never do that again. You little angry fuckers.

There are no politicians. Just CEOs, CFOs and Godfathers.

It IS how good you look on the outside. Barbie for President.

Speaking of Barbie, and Princesses for that matter, there is NO SUCH THING AS FOREVER! Even old, miserable married people die off eventually.

The little asshole who called  you "thunder thighs" when you were 11 and feeling desperately bizarre and awkward because of the pre-pubescent plague coming upon you is now fat, bald, scabby and miserable. Even if he isn't it's ok to think he is and then let that stupid comment go. FINALLY. *sigh*

With hundreds of millions of people on this planet don't you think the odds of having only one soulmate is a bit daft?

Aaaand, soulmates…they come and they go. Sometimes they come back. And then you wonder "What was all the fuss about?"

You can love someone, marry him, divorce him, watch him get a girlfriend, share your kids with her, watch her take your place in the family you once loved and cherished, realize your ex mother-in-law always hated you and loves her drive the truck you bought with him, finally lose your house, go bankrupt and drive a crappy car into the ground and LIVE TO BITCH ABOUT IT.

You can love two men at one time. But there's only ever the one you're in love with. (Don't associate that statement with my ex-husband please).

Life is about adventure, taking risks and being your own person. Never kowtow to anyone's expectations of who you "should be" and always speak your truth.

At this moment I will break for a Politically Correct statement to cover my ass:
I am a straight woman and therefore all statements regarding love or relationships heretofore and henceforth modus operandi habeas corpus in reference to "him," "men," "man" or any form of reference to lusting after anyone of masculine nature are from  my own personal experiences blah blahbitty blah. Gay Men should have no problem relating to these statements, but Straight Guys or Lesbians should switch out "men" for "women" because it SEEMS I don't think you're smart enough to think of that on your own. And, as with the birds, I heartily apologize for that idiotic inference and will only henceforth be rude to slugs as they don't have the capability of thinking, emotional reaction or suing. Furthermore and e pluribus unum that last statement was made in my "sick, dark and disturbing" humor (mentioned below) and, ergo, has no intention to imply that Straight Men or Lesbians are unintelligent,  associated with slugs, or that I in any way don't like anyone of any nature, which, at certain times of the month or in really bad traffic IS true but not here at THIS time etc., and so forth. Some of my very good friends are lesbians and I think I have made it clear that straight men ring my bell. Besides, Lesbians are TOTALLY smart and awesome because they're WOMEN and we all know straight guys can be a bit dim…. You know what. I am just going to stop here.

I think Latin should be resurrected.

And why is it anything read in an English accent sounds smart? The phone book sounds academic in an English accent. Who gave them the Hoity-toity Pass anyway?

My reality is not your reality. Which may or may not be a scary thing.

I really am a cheerleader. Do you know how painful that was to realize?

That old adage "will this matter in five years?" is very helpful. Except when you file bankruptcy. Then it's "will this matter in seven years?"

The roller-coaster of life only comes to a complete stop when you're DEAD. So enjoy the ups and downs because even the downs are better than DEAD.

Cynicism (see all of the above) can be your best friend when you've been divorced twice and single at almost a half-century old. Fuck.

So is dark, sick and almost-but-not-quite disturbing humor. (See, I told you).

Also on my best-friend list: dimly lit anywheres. And Photoshop filters. I think even the outside should be lit by candles.

"I don't know" is one of the most freeing phrases in all humanity.

So is "God please empty my head out"

Non-sequiturs are the verbal nectar of life.

You can skip through a meadow on a bright sunshiny day with daisies in your hands, or you can skip through the local dump tossing black rose petals. No matter what, just keep skipping.  Because at the very least you're getting some form of exercise.

It's ok to eat more cookie dough than you bake. Otherwise they wouldn't put it in ice cream.

Your body is a finely tuned machine. Look at how perfectly it reacts when you have had to pee for an hour and finally get within 5 steps of a toilet.

What doesn't kill you makes you stranger. I did not come up with that. Please don't sue me if YOU did. I mean you can try, but did you read that whole "single, divorced bankrupt mother of two" blurb?

I realize "single, divorced, bankrupt mother of two" will only get me so far for so long. Someday I'll just qualify myself as a "woman" plain and simple.

I think all my straight guy friends who want to make a stupid comment about linking "woman," "plain" and "simple" should shut their cakeholes before they get a stiletto down their gobs. Gay men feel free to comment because I know you understand what I meant, isn't that right? THAT'S right.

Ya know what? Anyone that is offended by anything I say can just suck it. Seriously. And I mean that in only the friendliest, most loving and caring way possible. I mean, really, you do realize you've been offended by a plain and simple woman, right?

Being abnormal is waaaay more interesting than normal. I feel sorry for normal people. And I'm sure they feel sorry for me. It's almost like walking through this world in two different dimensions.  You can see all the normal people but you can't really interact with them. Yes. My life is much like a never-ending Twilight Zone episode. Or "Inception" for all you sad little freaks of nature that think "Twilight Zone" is about vampires and werewolves.

That would explain why I hear Rod Serling in my head narrating my every move. I said Rod Serling. Not Rob Pattinson.

I think it's perfectly ok to create a "My Life Soundrack" playlist and then be-bop around town like you're in a finely scripted movie because having your own soundtrack makes you arty. And we all know arty is a euphemism for cool. Or insane. Depends on if you're on the "normal" side of town or the "abnormal" side of town.

Speaking of weird, I believe that we are not alone in this universe. Good news for us space geek romantics: That just opened the soulmate pool up by BILLIONS.

That's it for now. I've learned a lot more. There's a lot more I'm on the verge of learning and even more that I realize I don't give a rat's ass about. But I'm sure I'll deluge you with more of that crap sooner than later.


  1. You have a knack of putting a positive spin on most things Kris. I want you as my therapist.

  2. Tommy my love I am worried about you. Now more so than for myself. I suggest you invest in LOTS of foam padding and hire a great interior designer.

    Tony. Tony Toni's not me in your head *it is Mr. Serling...*


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