Monday, December 5, 2011

Breezy's Gone Red.

I know, I know...where have I been?  I've been on sabbatical, that's where.  It wasn't planned.  It just happened.  The absence didn't occur because I was too busy or had nothing to write about though, as many of you are well aware, my blogs can be delayed until late into the afternoon or because I find the buzzing of a fly around my coffee cup the only intriguing thing to contemplate at 6:00am.  My problem was that I just didn't want to write.  This can be the curse of death for a blogger.  The beginning of the end.  However, for this silly scribe, it was neither because even though my fluffy fingers weren't compelled to visit the keyboard over the last several days, I found myself composing entire posts in my mind as events unravelled.  So I'm back, for better or worse...the Rambling, Lunatic Housewife.

During the past few months I've been going through some highs and lows.  I was swept back to California by my family specifically to avoid an impending maternal meltdown.  I've questioned my place in this universe by starting this online thought process - this journal of sorts.  And I'm proceeding to go through a mid-life metamorphoses.  I'm still on the fence as to whether or not to call it a crisis.  A dear friend of mine is convinced that it is but in between my nasty lows, I'm having too much fun.  I have an abundance of self-confidence that defies this once fat (now sexy curvy), inconceivably awkward wall-flower to go skulking back again.into the shadows.  I've stepped away from the gymnasium wall and am making clear eye contact with the dancing world.

My highs and lows are brought about by my mental illness, my ugly battle with Bi-polar disorder.  Throw in perimenopause, two behaviorally challenged, autistic boys, and personal debt to match the national financial crisis and my breaking point can be rather shaky at best.  Perhaps if I got a good night's rest, ate plenty of fruits and vegetables, and maintained a healthy and active lifestyle...seriously?  Who am I kidding?  If I managed eight hours of sleep it would be on a weekend and only because I've taken more than the recommended dose of OTC sleeping pills and Austynn isn't compelled to knock on my bedroom door to announce that he's awake.  Fruits and vegetables?  Corn, isn't that a starch and just how many apple slices does it take with heaping tablespoons of peanut butter before it qualifies as enough fruit for the day?  And personally, my definition of an active lifestyle is measured by the amount time left alone to peruse the Turner Classic Movie channel on cable television without interruption.  I am a pending nervous breakdown.  A bowl of powdered sugar ready to be mixed sans liquid.  And trust me, based on past experience, the latter is an ugly, ugly scene.  

On Friday I stepped out a little further onto the dance floor.  I went red - as in hair color.  No, not carrot top but dark red.  The jury is still out on it.  For this natural, sandy brunette it was a shock to say the least.  Who is this person staring back at me?  She looks interesting, almost exotic in a funny, book-wormish kind of way. 

So far, people have said they liked it - but then again, you know how that goes.  If they didn't, would they really tell me?  Of course my son William did.  He has Asperger's.  Aspergian kids tell the truth and in such blatantly, honest ways that if I didn't have any self-confidence, I would go out and hang myself.

"Mom, whad'ya do to your hair?

"Why?  Do you like it?'  (Really?  I should know better by now.)

"It makes you look old."

Powdered sugar everywhere. 

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