nothing new under the sun
2005-09-23 - 9:59 a.m.
Sadly, I missed International Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day, so this entry will not be rendered in salty-seadog vernacular. So then--things are looking better today then they looked yesterday. I am facing up the realization that I need to act like an adult and take responsibility for some things in my life, yes, even if this means some people might get upset or be made uncomfortable. My responsibility for my own happiness and fulfillment do not necessarily include eliminating any possibility of friction. For all my good feminist talk and my innate bossiness, I still have to fight very hard in some arenas against being the good girl--and by that I mean the quiet girl who doesn't make a fuss and suffers in silence and then wonders why her life is so stale and unfulfilling. People can't meet my needs unless I express them, and my needs conflicting with their comfort zones doesn't make my needs less valid. But part of me is still whining "But it's haaarrrrddd! And what if someone gets angry, or says no? I'll be so embarrassed!" Clearly I need to reread my Betty Friedan. I need to be an adult, no matter how risky or scary that might look.
That seems to be all the news. September has been a terrible month. One of R's family cats died, a very close friend was diagnosed with cancer, hurricanes have been hitting right and left--I can't wait to see the end of this month. One more week to go, and then we settle down into autumn. I'm already marking recipes for casseroles and pies and quick breads. I'm more than ready to close summer down and batten down the hatches for winter. I want a fire in the fireplace, bread in the oven and apple onion gratin in my tummy. I want long, lazy afternoons cuddled up under a blanket with my husband and the cat. I want the glory of sharp winds whipping the leaves up through the air and tossing them back down again. I want jackets and scarves and cheeks ruddy with cold. I want change--god, do I want change.
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Die Entfuehrung aus dem Serail (The Abduction From
the Seraglio).
Which Mozart Opera Does Your Life Most Resemble?
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