I wrote Sue.

Sue wrote me.

*swoon*

Posted by: Elizabeth at 07:39 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
Post contains 13 words, total size 1 kb.

[begin rant]

My best friend growing up was an amazing Mary-Tyler-Moore scrap of a girl named Sue. You met her and 10 minutes later you were laughing your guts out as you shared a soda.

When a guy named John held my hand at a party the autumn of my sophmore year of high school - she was the first person I wanted to call and tell.

When I got my heart broke in college, she was the one I cried to.

In my 20's, when my ex-partner gutted my life with a revelation 6 months after we'd bought a home together, she hopped a plane and met me where I'd run to - my grandmother's condo in Florida.

Late that night, we snurched my grandmother's yacht of Lincoln and made for the cigarette smoke and Rum & Cokes of the local scene. I had valiantly decided not to deal with my life for the night and she had decided to be supportive of that decision.

We wore short skirts and lipstick and as we left one pub to look for the next, a pair of cute guys made their move.

Out in the parking lot, we let them flirt. We let them lean. Kept watch on each other from the corners of our eyes as we had our hands held, our beauty exhorted. B-52's thudding from the radio of our getaway boat.

We managed to make it back to the condo complex with our modesties still relatively intact (phone numbers stashed in our purses). My lips tingled; her cheeks were pink. We slipped into lounge chairs by the pool and chatted as I went through half a pack of Marlboro Lights. We slipped into that silence that falls after you've laughed too much.

After CD left this morning, his duffel packed for another business trip, I was hit by a wave of homesickness for Sue so strong that I got nauseated. When did we stop being the kind of friends that would hop a plane for each other?

When did I become this woman, who ponies up each day? Who lives in the very stoicism that I rejected as a child? When did I stop calling on my friends, when did they stop calling on me?

Dammit. I want to hop a plane to somewhere warm. I want to fluff my hair and dance to Chaka Khan and drink frothy things with umbrellas in them with a girlfriend and giggle. I want to forget my dress size, my age, and my position.

Life is grey and life is hard and I'm lonely. And every small step towards a better future with CD is still anchored in today.

Today. Today when no one looked me in the eye. Today when no one dragged a thumb down my cheek, hoping to get lucky with my lips. Today when no one splashed me with water from a pool and dared me to see how many miochardial infarctions we could cause by skinny dipping in the pool at the middle of a retirement village.

I was looking at pictures of that trip today. My grandmother, who never understood Sue's vegetarianism ("Not even chicken?") and loved Sue's grace ("What elegant handwriting! What excellent manners!") - my grandmother is gone now. And Sue? She's the one happily living in Florida.

But the years took her even farther from me.

I miss Sue.

I miss Chaka Khan. I miss Rum & Coke and giggling in the dark. I miss knowing I can say anything. I miss the kindness. I miss the eyes wise with all the shared memories of childhood and womanhood.

And I miss the adventures. I miss leaning. The pounding of my heart. I want to be kissed, but good. With a hand tangled in my hair and my toes curled.

I don't mind getting older. And I love all the things responsibility has brought to my life. And I believe in the things that we are slowly building.

But.

But.

But.

[/end rant]

Posted by: Elizabeth at 11:52 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
Post contains 674 words, total size 4 kb.

It's overcast again. And cold.

CD just left with Bear. As part of our new thing, you know, every morning he gets Bear up and dressed and drops him at school.

Yesterday, I messed with CD's alarm clock so this morning it didn't go off and they were running late. I felt bad, and offered to help, but CD shrugged me off. He said he was fine.

I didn't believe it. I got up, got ready, and braced.

Yet CD was fine. He got himself and Bear up and washed and dressed and out the door. The two of them did a sped-up version of their new morning routine as I sat on the couch in the playroom, waiting for the yell.

It didn't come.

The most help I gave was putting on Bear's shoes and fetching a fruit roll-up. And otherwise, staying out of their way.

I'm a little dazed.

... There's a saying in therapy - that the therapist shouldn't work harder on your life than you do.

In my previous job description as a martyr, especially when we would come under stress? I would run around working harder on his life than CD did.

Oh, you're running late? Let me pick out an outfit for you and iron it, while you take a shower. Don't worry about Bear, I'll get him to school or just take a personal day. You hurry along now!

Feeling needed and used all at the same time, and CD coming to expect this treatment. Eventually, this would have killed us completely. But we're learning new ways.

I can not work harder on anyone's life than they do. It does nobody any good.

I have to work hardest on my own life.

To take care of me.

And to tell you what a screwed-up place we've been in - that sentence seems so incredibly selfish.

It's baby steps. Starting, I guess, with CD dealing with being late. And me? Getting out of the way.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 02:58 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
Post contains 341 words, total size 2 kb.

Two weeks ago was a week of anger and acting mean. Last week was one of despair. This week started in immobilizing sadness. But by yesterday I had begun to breath again. I've been making decisions. Little ones.

That is not to say that I am gearing up for big decisions. What is next is not a momentous announcement. What is next is more little decisions.

I heard one that 'Character is in the choices we make first thing in the morning and not in response to something that has gone wrong'. I am trying to feel out my character. I am trying to make choices that build love and peace. Even if they hurt. Even if they confound me. I am pushing away at the yummy isolation - moving from reaction into action.

On that note, let me say .... I think I am in love with all the people who read my site.

Except that one, and that other one. Who seemed to think that I was doing them a favor by being in a brittle place because they felt stronger in comparison. My advice, and no one asked for it, is that if there needs to be a comparison study to feel good about one's life then somewhere someone got the definition of "life" wrong.

And on that note, life is too short not to be panting for one's Celebrity Boyfriend. Therefore, and I know this will break his heart, but I really think I need to break up with Bradley Whitford. I'll still adore him, but for the second Thursday in a row I realized that *whoops* 'West Wing' was on last night and I forgot. My celebrity boyfriend needs to be compelling.

I am trolling for suggestions.

And as a practical follow-up to "Sorry seems to be..." I have almost finished the holiday not-newsletter. It is December 2, and normally I would be done by now. But I found myself unable to write about the year. Not because it is all bad. Of course not. There was much good. But because right now, this minute - the prism of my perspective is muddy.

Instead I created 10 minutes of a DVD with the un-Photoshopped JPG and AVI files of the year (yes, raw. I'm not brave, it's just that the program I was using is an intolerant b*tch) . I finally picked the music. "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys, "Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong and "Love is all you need" by the Beatles and sung by Lyndon David Hall.

I have decided that if I never hear "Love is all you need" again, that would be just fine.

That accomplished last night. By this morning, I was feeling a little more "me".

I got up this morning at 4:30. Actually got out of bed at 5:15. Pulled it all together for a strong status report today. I put my head back in the game. I told a new exec out in the UK who was talking to me afterwards that yes, I was might be interested in relocating to the UK. I brushed up my CV.

Most of all, today I cherished Bear. Like the tingling you get when your foot wakes up - sometimes being so connected to another human being just plain hurts. I don't want to think about his dad and I but how can I not when I look at Bear's smattering of freckles and impish grin? I love him for who he is all by himself. But in him, there is always the both of us.

I have decided to take Elia, our own Mary Poppins, home and then to give Bear a bubble bath. I have decided to take tomorrow afternoon for us to make cookies. I have decided to call the doctor in the morning and have my annual check-up - even though it means that I will end up with my breasts frozen and squished in a metal vise in the torture that is genteely known as a mammogram.

And between CD and I, there has been no major improvements; no unbreachable gulfs. There is respect and gentle civility. There is a mountain ahead. I don't know yet where the path will lead.

I have decided to keep walking. Until tomorrow. In little steps. And see.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 11:54 AM | Comments (18) | Add Comment
Post contains 731 words, total size 4 kb.

1 Congrats on reaching the foot of the mountain. I know it's been a long hard slog, and will likely get harder, but sometimes, on the mountain, it's easier to see your progress. On the celebrity boyfriend... Sorry, no suggestions. Your tastes and mine tend to differ somewhere around the "swords and long hair" look. But if I notice any uptight, east-coast, looking chaps who seem a little sexy, I'll let you know . Just kidding. I'm really glad that you've got your feet back under you, even if you may still feel kind of wobbly.

Posted by: Cat at December 02, 2004 12:49 PM (ZQtwP)

2 Love you, Elizabeth. And as the cliche says, "the journey of a thousand miles..." Small steps sound like a good place to start. As always, here if you need anything. I know I don't comment much these days, but I know my words can't fill the pain in your heart, so I choose silence most often.

Posted by: Cheryl at December 02, 2004 02:16 PM (dr1mo)

3 Oh yes, and I'm hoping beyond hope that I wasn't somehow that one person or that other one.

Posted by: Cheryl at December 02, 2004 02:22 PM (dr1mo)

4 My best to you, E! The fact that you are not pushing, pulling or rushing anything shows a lot. If this was easy it wouldn't be worth a container of salt. I am "only" 4 hours away if you ever need anything...a hug, a minute away or whatever.

Posted by: Soccamom at December 02, 2004 02:30 PM (pVE96)

5 I've been thinking about you. I don't know why. I don't even know you. But I've been thinking and worried. I guess it's because I've been in your shoes and I know how difficult it is. I think you're right to take it one step at a time. Here's to hoping those steps take you in a direction you want to go, even if the path is long and hard.

Posted by: Laura at December 02, 2004 02:34 PM (R+HFl)

6 Celebrity boyfriend: I would be willing to share Pierce Brosnan with you, but just for a little while. The journey: I think you're on the right track. Take care of you, take care of Bear, and let Bear take care of you, too. I bet he has hugs overflowing.

Posted by: Tammy at December 02, 2004 03:38 PM (aFeo0)

7 Good for you. These steps may be small, yes, but then again, they are huge. "Giant steps are what you take, walking on the moon." What the heck is that song about? I don't know. God only knows is awesome (Sir Paul McCartney has said it is his favorite song) and I've shared how I feel about What a Wonderful World. These would also be my choices if I were to try and soundtrack anything about my kids, my life. I would hope I could live up to the spirit. I read another blog, tonite, about a guy who has finally decided to let his relationship go. He decided the little ember he had been protecting and nourishing, what was left of his relationship, might have to go out; so that he could move on and nourish the flame with his son. It was quite touching and if you want I can find the link. It's been a long night and there has been much whiskey... all the best...

Posted by: ben at December 02, 2004 04:38 PM (xB3gJ)

8 Hugh Jackman. Definitely.

Posted by: Psycho Kitty at December 02, 2004 05:37 PM (lRZ1W)

9 One step at a time. You can handle it. If anyone in the world can do it, it's you.

Posted by: Margi at December 02, 2004 06:41 PM (rKX9f)

10 Sometimes just putting one foot in front of the other is the only thing to do. Thinking of you often...

Posted by: Kimberly at December 02, 2004 08:12 PM (Ba9x7)

11 Elizabeth, as comforting as it is, isolation is bad and only leads to . . . further isolation. Try and look at the mountain ahead with the same sparkle in your eye that you look at Bear's life stretching before him. Sometimes all you need is a different perspective to jolt you out of a rut.

Posted by: Philip at December 03, 2004 02:14 AM (zsoKg)

12 Whoa, Elizabeth - am I the only one who noticed you may be interested in relocating to Britain? Intriguing 'little step'! Does CD go with? Celebrity boyfriend - Bill Murray. He's cover boy on Esquire this month. Nicest guy in showbiz. Funny, odd looking guys make the hottest, most passionate lovers. All the best to you, beautiful Elizabeth.

Posted by: GraceD at December 03, 2004 03:17 AM (YBuTr)

13 Little steps are all you need to get momentum Many congrats on your nomination! That's awesome! As for a celebrity boyfriend, I've always admired Harrison Ford. He's a little old, but oh boy he is just the type for me Or, perhaps The Croc Hunter LOL

Posted by: Fredette at December 03, 2004 04:36 AM (QhI+Z)

14 How about Colin Firth? Except I might need him for myself later.

Posted by: Beth at December 03, 2004 10:53 AM (tWNDU)

15 You sound stronger. Even if it's not all better, I'm so glad to hear all of this.

Posted by: Terri at December 03, 2004 11:01 AM (LRR15)

16 One of the things that impresses me most about you (and trust me, a lot of things about you impress me) is your strength. You sound strong even when you are writing about crawling under desks and hiding from the world.

Posted by: Michele at December 04, 2004 03:46 AM (jTs6K)

17 You sound a little more clear today. But that's what life deals us "moments of fuzziness" "moments of clarity" and "moments of sheer confusion" You are definitely taking steps on your journey. Steps that include the constant display of love for your Bear.

Posted by: Grace at December 04, 2004 04:58 AM (UdgWp)

18 Here's to the paranoid me hoping to hell that I wasn't one of the two who took the opportunity to make you feel worse, cause honey, my life's a train wreck too. I don't compare. I sympathize. In the meantime, I will give you John Cusack. The world knows he's my baby, I mean he's super tall and hot AND smart (he wrote "Grosse Point Blank", after all). I think he'd do you a world of good. It's the tall dark and quiet ones we have to watch out for. /Helen VP os MAS

Posted by: Helen at December 06, 2004 10:44 PM (TmM0X)

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