New Blog Post: Who Do You Think You Are?

I used to have a signal for myself when things were getting out of control in my life – I started getting parking tickets. It was a combination of not paying attention to the rules of the world because I was distracted by something else and in some way thinking those rules didn’t apply to me. “I won’t get a ticket”, I’m me.”. Most of the time I’d get a ticket.

This has been a horrifically difficult time of late, I’ve hardly been posting on Twitter, I’ve rarely blogged, because well, everything I have to say is moany and negative. I’m in that place. But it’s time to talk about that place for a minute. It hit me as I was standing in line at the Coffee Bean with my son after picking him up from school.

I’ve been attending a conference all week, getting up very early, dropping my son off early at school and picking him up late. Attendance is mandatory this week and it has been exhausting and at times excruciatingly boring. This morning (Friday) my son had a nightmare at about 4:45am and neither of us got back to sleep. I was so tired and so discouraged by the week that I just decided to call in and tell them my son was sick and I couldn’t make it. The last day, the last time I needed to be there, I wanted sleep, and some time alone, time to get some other things done. Understandable, but I had showed up on time every day before and just needed this one last day to complete this conference. But I didn’t. I just couldn’t. And if I didn’t, I’d have blown the week – those were the rules and I knew it. But did I?

So, did I think I could get away with that because I am ME? That they would let me skate by on the last day even though every day attendance is required? Yes, honestly, part of me felt they would. Why? I have no idea. I am no one special to them, I am one amongst perhaps 40 in this group. Will they let me slide? I don’t know, they never got back to me and when I called in the secretary told me she gave the message to the moderator but I never heard back from him. Her suggestion.? Show up on Monday as planned. Just like I should have done on Friday and not created this mess. So why create the mess? One more day was all I needed to endure.

I was doing so well, following the rules of life, living life on life’s terms, whether I liked them or not. Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today – really taking things as they came, showing up honestly….so why did I put myself in this situation? I was tired, yes. I was cranky, yes. I was over it, yes. But i signed up and committed to it and I only had one more day. One more day and I have potentially thrown everything out the window.

Concurrently, when I picked up my son from Kindergarten I saw he got a yellow card in class meaning something went wrong (green is best). He told me he had punched a girl who had punched him. Now, there are all kinds of things wrong with this of course and I told him everything he needed to know, for the twelfth time. If someone bothers you, go to a teacher, never hit, follow the rules. Rather hypocritical if you ask me. I really had to hold off on any kind of major scolding because I had acted as much as he, as a five year old did, in his own mind. Me as a reaction to my body’s tiredness, his to being hit and reacting in kind, we both broke the rules because we didn’t think they applied to us even though we’ve been told they do, only I have about one million more times than he has.

Gratefully I don’t do this kind of thing very often anymore. I used to live like this and I used to condemn those who I knew who did it. Again, rather hypocritical. But clearly when I do it, I go for it 100%. I don’t know what the consequence of my lazy action will be but I have no choice but to accept the consequences and continue to be exhausted from them (and myself).

Most good deeds go unnoticed (a Spice Girl and me)

“The road to misery is paved with reasonable expectations” – with lyrics

I was going through a box of mementos, when I came across this – this was a place setting for Geri Halliwell’s baby shower for her daughter Bluebell, which I threw in her honor before she left Los Angeles to return to London to give birth. It brought up some good mixed memories of that time.

The flowers were from the stunning Mark’s Garden www.marksgarden.com, the food was prepared by the brilliant and talented Kim Bowen (marvelous cook & stylist extraordinaire).

I had to break into Geri’s house that morning because she was at a doctor’s appointment and had forgotten to leave me the key so I could prepare the house (the whole estate has now been turned into a drug rehab). I must have run up and down the hill from the bottom of the drive to the top lining it with flowers and balloons five times. The cake was superb, we got the china and table rentals back on time minus one spoon and despite the silly party games, everyone had a great time. (“Never give up on the good times, livin’ it up is a state of mind!”)

Geri was slightly overwhelmed by the whole scenario and halfway through the party I found her upstairs in her bedroom packing up as she had to leave on a flight the next morning. (“There’s always tomorrow.”) She gave me a huge jar of Nivea, which was the basis of her facial beauty regime. I still haven’t finished it. Oh, she never thanked me or Kim.

I went to visit Geri in London a few weeks before she gave birth and helped her with some last minute preparations and just hung out and kept her company. (“Sparkle in the rain. Told me she needed a friend. If she’s going crazy, baby’s on the way”) Then I read about the blessed event in The Sun newspaper. I sent her a baby basket and later on, food from Villandry http://www.villandry.com/ on Great Portland Street near where she was staying.

When she got the food she called me and thanked me profusely – it’s always the best gift for a new Mum. I asked her about the birth and she cut me off saying “Read it about in Hello! Magazine. It’s out tomorrow.”

I did read about it and I did, at her behest come to London again two months later to stay with her and Bluebell. I slept on the couch, rocked Blue to sleep, let Geri get some rest and we saw “Superman”. We discussed how he was a metaphor for Jesus. In the TV room were several pictures taken at the second baby shower she was given, by her friend Kenny Goss, which George Michael attended.(“Do you think he’s cool and sexy?”) Lots of photos of those on the wall, none of ours. True, we didn’t have a pop star in attendance (well, I guess we did…Geri), just good friends wishing her the very very best from Los Angeles.

Later, that Christmas, I was invited again and she gave me a lovely framed photo of me and Blue, who then was unrecognizable as the gorgeous clever curly-haired girl she is today. I helped her unpack her new house, we talked about her career, we went shopping, should have been fun…Oh, did I mention that halfway through this visit she stopped speaking to me without explanation? (“Too much of nothing is just as tough”)

When I got pregnant a few months later I started to ask her some questions and she said she preferred I ask someone else. (“I won’t be hasty, give you a try. If you really bug me then I’ll say goodbye!”)

Bitter? Sure, on occasion, but more sad for her and angry at myself (“Giving is good, as long as you’re getting!”). However, in the end I don’t regret being of service to her and helping her out emotionally, physically with all the love a friend would give another (“Look for the rainbow in every storm?”). I guess I could get into all that and more, but instead I’ll just say..um…..GIRL POWER!?