Changes

Life is all about change.

We can't be stagnant and expect to survive.

I get that. I think.

The brilliant, well-educated and well-spoken part of my psyche embraces change and butterfly-like emerges from the chrysalis of the past to spread my wings and fly free in the face of the unknown.

Then there is the petulant little kid in me scuffing my toe and secretly muttering naughty swear words because 'everything is different now!'

Change is a concept that is wonderful - for OTHER people.

They need to change. Not me.

Blissfully happy with the status quo, I am quite sure I am a trial to everyone who is compelled to wade through the chaos of my life either with me or trapped in the swamping waves I create in my wake.

I don't mind CREATING change.

What I mind is OTHER PEOPLE creating change that I 'must accept'. That is a line which is generally followed by that crap filled expression of "for your own good".

Nothing exciting ever happened "for my own good". Generally, like that last spoonful of brussel sprouts, which by the way have NOTHING to do with Brussels, Belgium or anything remotely exotic, the codicil of 'for your own good' means I won't like it.

Straight up - no chaser.

When my own good is involved, I begin looking for the exit signs. There must be some SOMEWHERE! If no exit is available, I am reduced to hiding beneath furniture or under tables hoping the tablecloths have been carefully pulled just low enough to conceal my presence from the very horrible specter of 'change' which I cannot bear to endure.

Some change creeps up gradually, like underwear on a sticky southern day. (Trust me, you haven't lived until you have experienced this!). Other change is like being blind-side tackled in a scrimmage game and you are a cheerleader not a linebacker.

Either way, there are unpleasant side effect that must be dealt with. Using the dispatch of the unemotional, one is supposed to accept change with quiet dignity and grace.

As has been well documented by the Philistines of the world who ratted me out, I missed all of my charm school classes in favor of a pickup game of sandlot baseball. The good news is that what I lack in charm, I more than make up for in trash talking.

Hey battah, battah, battah - saaa -wing!

I want to be dignified and unruffled by the curve balls of life. But since my language is peppered with sports metaphors instead of terms found in the latest issue of Cosmo, any idiot can see that dignity ends with the first pitch when the Banner is over and the ump cries out "PLAY BALL!"

Recently, the blogger management decided I needed change because "it's a good thing". Who in the hell put Martha Stewart in charge of my blog? ? ?

If I want to change because 'it's a good thing', I'd sooner take advice from Yogi Berra than Martha Stewart. I'll bet money that broad can't pitch worth beans!

The changes they implemented were alleged to make life easier and give more options. Now, I find that I cannot access the menus on a site which I have become accustomed to checking for information on walk and run events in North Alabama.

Anyone who knows me at all in any measure will be able to discern that in that last sentence alone I have embraced change rivaling Noah and the flood.

Yours truly, dedicated couch potato and fan of all things chocolate, is now thinking ahead on what kind of events can keep me motivated to keep exercising.

Of course, to aid and abet my insanity, Beth just informed me I might like to try at 13 miler in April. I simply asked how many days I got to finish it and if I needed to bring lunch.

So far I haven't heard back from her. Probably because she has collapsed on the floor in oxygen deprivation from laughing at the mere thought that I would even consider that distance.

DAMN! I said I was CONSIDERING IT!

Change.

Don't let them fool you.

It isn't always good. And sometimes, it causes you to ponder actions with your mouth that your body can't write the check to cover.

Does this mean I am morally bankrupt for considering this course of change?

I sure hope so. It might get me out of this. People who are not able to cover their debts are generally hauled off to jail.

Wonder what color jumpsuits they wear in the pokey for people who hate change?

I'm really hoping it isn't pink.

I hate pink. And that will never change.

46

It's just a number.

Only significant as mankind counts the passage of time.

Doesn't make a difference as to how I feel or what kind of mental image I have of myself.

Today, I am Queen for the day.

It's my birthday and I can wade the balmly waters of denial all I want to. You can't stop me. The candles on my cake (which I probably shouldn't eat) may number 46, but the attitude within my heart and soul is pure 29 and holding. I can run around with my fingers in my ears singing 'la la la' while you try to tell me otherwise. For today, I can't hear you!

I'm the birthday girl!

I am young, thin and beautiful and possessed of a figure that makes men drool and women jealous.

I am toned, lean, fit and tan.

I am brilliant, well-educated and sought after for my wisdom.

I am talented, gifted and nothing is out of my reach.

I have the capacity to do anything and everything. Sometimes at the same time.

I am woman - hear me roar! (isn't that a militant anthem or something?)

In all seriousness, today is interesting for me in many respects. Though it is just a number, it is significant. The scars and marks and stretch marks I bear and the simple passage of time is proof of life for me. It hasn't been perfect thus far, but oh, what a ride!

Blessed beyond all sense of reason to have a husband who loves me despite the reality of the odd woman he married, children who are brilliant, shining stars in my life and heart, and a dog who would love to be wild, I have truly been given a gift that lasts far beyond any temporary moment of happiness or pleasure.

Last year, the doom and gloom of turning forty-five was almost overwhelming. I don't know why. Numbers usually don't matter as I consider the fact that I am still here - despite many moments of unbelievable stupidity which could have ended my life - to be a testimony to the faith and prayers of other people, most notably, my poor parents.

Likewise, the fact that my siblings and I actually talk to each other and enjoy one another's company is a blessing to me. Fractured families and broken hearts have become the norm in our jaded society. Those who 'flock together' are considered strange. How sad! I LIKE my family flock! They actually keep the one marble of sanity I possess 'in play'.

Birthday blessings flow from the friends who have come into my life over the years. Though I do not number my friends nor trot them out for Queen's inspection, I am thankful to have their kind and gentle influence in my life. I am also thankful for the reckless abandon we share as well.

Thomas has told me when I look for friends, I am actually seeking accomplices. Dang! That kid knows me all too well!

But regardless of the 'title' attached, my friends are a blessing to me. They are a gift that can be brief or long lasting in my life and though time isn't an issue, their importance to me is. They teach me things about myself that I am too cowardly to see out on my own.

My friends show me the possibilities and fortify my faith, not only in the world, but in myself.

My sweet and wild dog is a blessing in my life. Though she revels in the opportunity to attempt assassination on our walks or by laying directly over my face while I lift weights, she is MY sweet baby girl. Although Rick brought her home intending that she be his (HA!), she is indeed MY little savage beast. Circumstantially obedient to a fault, she is the canid version of my own warped personality. She will have her way in the due course of time, but she will drag you all over creation to get it. Consider it the penalty phase of the learning curve.

So today, I look upon my family and my friends who make each day better and I thank them all for the gift of their presence in my life.

But I am not sap enough to say no gifts are required. (yeah, it's rude, but get over it!)

Let the flames begin and toss the packages on the table! It's not every day that my favorite wild child turns 46. Oh, yeah! That's right, baby! Just like the Beatles sing "Today is your birthday" - it's time to celebrate the joy and wonder that is ME!

If you didn't have time to buy anything, I take VISA, MASTERCARD, AMERICAN EXPRESS and cold, hard cash. I'm a mercenary sort.

I totally promise to spend birthday money for things I don't need or that are totally impractical to my lifestyle. After all, who wants to use birthday money to buy socks and underwear?

There should be some sort of birthday bonus where nothing I consume today has any caloric content and everything is fair game.

In closing, I share my favorite birthday joke:

A man asked his wife, "What would you most like for your birthday?"

She said, "I'd love to be ten again."

On the morning of her birthday, he got her up bright and early and they went to a theme park. He put her on every ride in the park - the Death Slide, The Screaming Loop, the Wall of Fear, the Riptide Rollercoaster.

She had a go on every ride there was. She ate hot dogs and cotton candy, popcorn and soda pop. There were pickles, funnel-cakes and Sno-cones. Every food stand they passed had another treat for her to eat.

She staggered out of the theme park five hours later, her head reeling and her stomach turning. Then the were off to a movie theater where they ate popcorn and sweets and drank Cola while watching the triple feature.

At last, as the stars twinkled brightly in the night sky, she staggered home with her husband and collapsed into their bed.

Her husband leaned over and asked gently, "Well, dear, what was it like being ten again?"

One eye opened and she whispered, "Actually, honey, I meant a SIZE 10!"

Happy Birthday to ME!

To Whom It May Concern

How much of what we do is just reaching out for companionship?

Sure, we have our family and in most cases, they are a blessing to us. How thankful I am for mine! They support and encourage me and sustain me in ways that defy description. They are examples of goodness and righteousness to me. My family grants me the room to make mistakes and loves me anyway and helps me get through the mistakes while cheering me on to greater things.

But even having family doesn't mean they fill all the spaces in my heart. Does that mean I am somehow not 'doing it right' or that I lack focus? While I am not sure I can answer that, I AM sure that I need my friends in my life.

Though our paths are divergent in terms of our personal lives and the things we have been through to get us to where we are, I need the experiences that they have had in order to get through the experiences I am having. I don't know if that makes sense to other people - and I'm not sure it has to.

Family can be too close to a circumstance to tell you what you really need to hear. That may be an uncomfortable truth, but if so, let it ride. Sometimes people love you so much, they don't want to risk hurting you with a truth that needs to be told. And friends who love you don't have to live with you 24/7 and can say what needs to be said and are often willing to risk the friendship in order to preserve the person.

There are times that I feel the same way about the writing that I do. Most of it is typewritten catharthis because I need therapy but lack the money to pay for it. My journal, my short story folder and my blog entries are a means to an end as I try to sort out the circumstances of my life.

Does this method work for everyone? No. Absolutely not. There are times I find that I have been too candid for the comfort of others and indeed, reading back, perhaps too candid for my OWN good.

But it is there and life seldom offers a rewind and edit feature, so I resist the temptation to go back in my writing and clean it up to suit the sensibilities of others or of myself under duress and circumstance.

I try to live each day as it comes without over-expectation of what should be. I keep a calendar on my desk, carry one in my purse and have one on the computer at which I define my life. The calendar is an addiction. It is a sense of control in a world, which for me, generally lacks control. Though I am by nature a planner and plotter, there are times that my plans lack the insight to truly be prepared for what life sneakily has in store.

Those are the times that I need my friends the absolute most. My family is a given in times of crisis, but there are times during those crises of my life that they are so invested in my personal well being and issues that I need the unvarnished eye and the open heart of a friend who is willing to set aside the load of personal circumstance they shoulder to simply steady mine.

Can you ever have enough friends? The question is asked often and I believe that the answer is yes. Enough means that your life has balance and since life shifts like the sands of the desert following a storm, the number of people within your circle changes as the needs in your personal desert change.

Friends are to me as an oasis of calm, refreshing water in the barren wilderness of my life. Though they often come into my life unexpectedly, they bring the blessing of a continuation into my life. They bring continuity. They bring balance and they bring peace.

This isn't to say that they are perfect, because they aren't. I don't think they would be able to tolerate someone so blatantly imperfect as I am intruding into their life if they were totally without faults. That they aren't perfect is a good thing right now. Maybe later, we can all get to the point where the idea of perfection becomes more than theory, but for now, I will accept my friends as they are, where they are - without warranty and without a definative time of arrival, duration or departure.

I confess that I hate to see relationships change and dwindle. But that too is part of the equation for some relationships - they simply run their course and people move on. Life circumstances change. People take different jobs, move home to care for aging parents or simply redirect focus so that their time is spent in other ways.

So for now, I am trying to focus on how thankful I am for the warmth of hearts that are welcoming to me and my life for whatever duration I am offered. All of this mortal life is transitory, but I have a hope deep within that all of those whom I have ever been friends with during my life might harbor a feeling of wanting to keep me around as an eternal friend.

I know that is how I feel about them. I want to be able to see them as I think of them in my mind's eye and know that the good feelings and shared memories meant as much to them as they did to me.

But for this time in life, I must content myself with the one way expressions of how I feel about my friends. They fill places in my heart that are just the right size for a special friend when I need one. And they leave an echo of their passing when they leave that can tide me over during the low ebbs in the oceans of my existence.

The memory of their presence as it breezes through my days and nights is as a refreshing wind in the arid places in my life. Without them, my days would be heavier, and, in some ways, unbearable.

Just what came out while I typed today.

Hug a friend today and let them know what they mean to you. Time is moving along as a fluid stream and the opportunity may never come again.