"You'd be happy wrapped in my apron strings"
Day Twelve – A Song From a Band I Hate:
Ugh. Hate is such a strong word. So even though I think there may be some really bad songs out there, I don’t think I can truly hate a song. Or a band. Or even any particular artist.
And yet … I can have a strong dislike for songs that are “presented” poorly (like the original version that I refer to in this post). Or I can dislike a performer that is misrepresented as an “artist.”
Day Two – My “Least” Favorite Song:
I actually had a hard time trying find a least favorite song. I think it’s because I inherently believe all songs have redeeming qualities.
(Huh. Come to think of it … I think anything or anyone in the world has some redeeming qualities. You just have to look for it … )
Take Rebecca Black’s song “Friday” … This is that song and video that went viral on the internet after critics and viewers on “the webs” claimed that it was the worst song ever written. So yes … I was one of those fools that clicked on Rebecca’s video and watched in horror as the song played out. And I confess that I thought that it was a pretty bad song.
I’ve been MIA for close to six weeks now.
And if it weren’t for the fact that my domain name was up for renewal, I probably would have stayed MIA for even longer. So thank you to Hubby (and to a few other folk out there who inquired about how I was doing) for pushing me to update this piece of cyberspace.
See, the thing is … I’m not quite sure to write about these days. Lately, nothing seems to inspire any urge to write. I’m sure I do have things to say, but it seems so trivial compared to what else is going on in the world. Or what else is going on in my life.
Between traveling for my job and spending a lot of our time in Detroit, I’ve hardly had enough time to catch up on all the TV shows we’ve had DVR’d since before Thanksgiving. So yeah … being in Chicago these past few days, I’ve spent my downtime watching my shows.
Now … is it me? Or does it always seem that when you’re going through something personal that the news or even certain TV shows seem to center around those personal issues? For instance, I’m sure a few of my IF friends can relate to the storyline surrounding Audrey & Jeff in “Rules of Engagement.” For me, it happens to be Marshall’s latest storyline in “How I Met Your Mother.”
As it happens, one of the first few episodes I “caught up” with following my Dad’s funeral was the episode where Marshall and Lily, who have been trying for the past few seasons to get pregnant, finally go to see an Infertility Specialist. Watching their trials to start their family have, at one time or another, touched that part of me that still mourns the fact that I’ve never been able to get pregnant.
But this episode … well, the ending definitely surprised me. That was when we find out that Marshall’s Dad had suddenly died from a heart attack.
Talk about art imitating life. Nothing could hit closer to home at that moment than the look that Marshall had on his face when he was told of the news. And as if I hadn’t cried enough over the past few weeks by that time, I found myself with big crocodile tears as the credits rolled by.
And since then, the episodes of “How I Met Your Mother” have somehow managed to make me cry in some way or another. Like the one where the gang tries to cheer Marshall up during his Dad’s funeral. Or the one where Marshall was too preoccupied with trying to be the environmental lawyer that he had always told his Dad he’d be.
Then there’s the “Desperation Day” episode. Lily decides to fly out to Minnesota to be with Marshall on Valentine’s Day. Marshall had been back at his childhood home since the funeral to “help” his mother adjust to life without his father. What Lily finds when she arrives is that Marshall’s way of “helping” included him experiencing a bit of “Revertigo.” In other words, he reverted back to the high school version of Marshall; he began to ask his Mom to do everything for him: make his lunch, do his laundry, etc.
During a conversation Marshall had with Ted (in the midst of playing old video games in his childhood bedroom), Marshall randomly turned to Ted and said, “I miss my father.” And Ted answered, “I know.”
Then Marshall relayed the story of a memory he had of taking long road trips with the entire family. And how many times he’d find himself the only one awake to keep his Dad company while he drove through the darkness of night. Marshall told him how he could never see anything in front of the headlights during those pitch black nights, but he always felt safe because his Dad was driving. And he was a superhero that could see way out into the darkness. But now that his Dad was gone, things are just pitch black … and he could no longer see anything in front of him. And he couldn’t see where he was going.
And that’s really what it is; I miss my father. I miss the simplicity that life was when I was back in high school … even if I didn’t think life was anything but simple at the ripe old age of 15. I wish I could go back to when I could sit in front of the TV and watch old reruns with my Dad asleep on the couch. I wish I could have him make his famous “Daddy’s Chicken Noodle Soup” on the days I was feeling sick.
I especially miss the car trips we’d make to London, Ontario (or even to the East Coast) to visit family … where I found myself the one who’d stay up with my Dad to keep him company. To sing songs on the radio just to keep him awake.
And now, I feel lost. Like Marshall, I can no longer see what’s in front of me; no longer feel the urge to do the things I normally like to do. Like knit or crochet. Or write.
But I know that this is normal; that I’ll eventually be able to put one foot in front of the other and move on. And I guess that’s why I’m making the effort to do those activities I’ve enjoyed in the past. The same ones that helped me work through the loss I’ve felt about Infertility.
For now though, I’m going to continue with my grief for just a little longer. Well … truly, I’ll grieve for as long as it takes me to grieve. But the point is, I know what I need to get back to in order to return to some sense of normalcy.
And I know that’s what my Dad would have wanted.
There’s this episode of “How I Met Your Mother” that Hubby & I recently watched. It’s the episode in which Robin meets up with her Canadian High School boyfriend; a boy who broke her teenage heart in his van after playing a gig with his band, The Foreskins**. She confesses to her friends that the minute she set eyes on him, she suddenly felt like she was sixteen again; complete with the excitement and butterflies that a “first love” could only elicit. But not only that, Robin found herself acting exactly like she did at that age.
Marshall, in his wise ways, had developed a term for this type of behavior. He called it “Revertigo” … a phenomenon in which a person reverts back to his or her former self when around certain individuals from their past. In this episode, he uses Lily as an example; having her invite her old high school friend, Michelle, who brings out the “gangsta” in her whenever they’re together. But once separated from one another, they revert back to their normal selves.
Hubby and I could not stop laughing during the entire episode.*** It was something that we both know happens to me when I get together with my Canadian cousins. When we get together I somehow slip back into this version of myself that I can only call “The American Cousin” — all brash and outspoken with a hint of arrogance (not intentional, of course). But not only that … for some strange insane reason, I also find myself speaking in a Canadian accent; complete with long O’s (as in “sooorry”) and unconsciously adding “eh?” to the end of all my sentences.
Seriously. We could be in the heart of the continental U.S. and I could suddenly be mistaken for a Canadian!
The thing is, when experiencing “Revertigo,” every fiber of you begins to revert back to that place and time. All the good and the bad. All the excitement of being at the age that you were and all the insecurities you may have experienced at that time.
This Saturday is my 20th High School Reunion. And while I debated for a verrrry long time about whether I’d attend, I finally decided that I would skip out on the festivities. I can say that I did it for a number of reasons. The easiest being that I didn’t feel like shelling out the money to see people I really didn’t know that well twenty years ago. Or that I only wanted to see certain people from my graduating class; ones that I’m not even sure will be in attendance.
I’ll admit that both of those reasons are indeed true; and — in my eyes — valid, as well. But the primary reason is this: I’m just not at the best place that I want to be in my life at this exact moment. I don’t (nor will I likely ever have) the children that I know most of my classmates already have. I don’t have that beautifully maintained home with a well-manicured lawn that my suburban counterparts will also likely have. And I certainly don’t have the job / degree / success in my life that I thought I’d have by this time in my life.
And seeing that this past spring and summer were beyond stressful**** I’m feeling just a leeetle insecure with myself.
If the phenomenon known as “Revertigo” is true; then all those insecurities and lack of self-confidence I currently have at this point in my life will be twenty-times magnified … like everything tends to be during those “puberty years.”
Oh, I’m not naive enough to know that my classmates likely feel the same way about themselves in some capacity or another. If anything, I certainly believe that most of us, in our late-thirties, feel like we haven’t accomplished everything that we thought we would have over the last twenty years.
No, really. I simply don’t want to attend for this simple reason: I’m trying to avoid feeling and acting as if I’m in high school again. And seeing that I’ve had a few major curveballs thrown at me over the past six months, I don’t know if I’d have the strength to combat this bout of “Revertigo.”
One more thing and I’ll go back to being a 38 year old Gen-X slacker … my lack of desire to attend my high school reunion, by no means indicates that I don’t want to see those people I considered close friends during my teenage years.
The way that I look at it is this: If I hadn’t already found you via Facebook (or any other means of communication) … this simply means that you don’t want to be found. And I can respect that need for privacy. And if we were meant to find our way back to one another, then we’ll find each other when the time is right.
To me, friendship is all about every day life; and there shouldn’t be a need to make a big formal deal about it.
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Related Posts:
Emily gets “Donald Trump’d”
Emily gets a phone call
Emily gets her a$$ “U’Hauled”
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** “There were four of us. And we didn’t wear any shirts.” At least that’s how the band name was explained. LOL!
*** Mainly because Robin’s ex-boyfriend was played by James Van der Beek of “Dawson’s Creek” fame.
**** A quick recap:
Well, I think I’ve finally turned the corner on this whole cold/congestion thingy. I’m not as wiped out as I was before, and my taste buds are finally turning back to normal.
Except now I think I may have passed it on to Hubby. Boo.
I’ve nothing exciting to talk about, other than it’s been over a month now that I’ve been unemployed. I’ve got a few interviews set up for mid-June that look promising. Plus I had a second interview for that other job I’m really interested. So at this time, there’s nothing to do but apply for more jobs and wait.
I’m in a little bit of a dry-spell creatively right now. I’m not sure if it has to do with the overall funk I’ve been in lately, or if all the snot hasn’t cleared out of my brains yet. Either way, I’ve found nothing that has struck me inspirationally (is that even a word?).
When I get in these moods, I find that I end up either a) wanting to read a fluffy, no heavy-stuff type of book, b) mindlessly knitting a project that I probably will never end up finishing, or c) watching a lot of television.
This time around I’ve opted for “C.” At first it was because it was May “sweeps” with tons of season finales; but now that it’s officially June, I suppose I have no excuse.
One day was an entire day of watching Amazing Wedding Cakes. Another day was Cake Boss. (And it’s no wonder I’ve been craving cake since then … )
I should add a disclaimer here: Lest you be worried about me doing nothing else but watching TV, just know that I haven’t. In fact, most days the television doesn’t get turned on until 6 pm or later. Give me a little credit here, peeps! During the day, I am looking for employment!
Anyhoo … it seems of late, that there has been a running theme in what I’ve been watching. Or rather … themes , since one of those themes has to do with medicinal marijuana and how to get “licensed” in growing and selling such a product. But that’s not the theme that seems to be most prominent.
Lately, every show I’ve watched has touched on the topic about being happy with the job or career that one or another TV character has chosen. In each case, every character had either talked about doing something they’re more passionate about or spoke to someone else about how they previously had a job that didn’t satisfy them until they went into the career that they were in now.
I can’t help wonder if these TV shows are talking directly to me. Or, in the unemployment state that I’m in right now, I’m just more sensitive towards that topic. Either way, it has me questioning what I’d be happiest doing with my life; especially since the proverbial door is wide open right now.
Except now there’s the worry of money. And health benefits. And food and shelter. And all the other necessities in life.
Oh, and let’s not forget I have no idea what I’d be happiest doing in my life. Other than lounging on a beach in Hawaii.
Hmmph. When did I start to become so responsible?
In any case, I’m hoping that I snap out of this creative funk soon. Maybe embracing my inner geek at WordCamp Chicago will help … well, it’ll help me jazz up my WordPress-powered blog, anyway. At least I hope it will.
What about you, peeps? What do you do when you get in a creative funk? And more importantly, what do you do to get out of a creative funk?
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