It’s blog time and usually I have something I want to talk about- a prepared topic -and this weekend I was searching around trying ideas in my head- but none of them really titillated me into writing a large blog post on. So, I am free-forming a little today and it may get a tad bit random; but I believe that my random thoughts are inherently better than most peoples planned opinions so I will forge ahead.
This weekend I was able to relax a little. My life is a mixture of rapid, busy moments interspersed with weeks of leisure and inactivity. This may seem like a great life- and in many ways it does me well but I have found that I am not that good at adaptation. Roland has noticed that it generally takes me three days to actually relax. When we go on vacation it takes me three days to let go of what I am leaving behind. Three days. This means most weekends I do not relax at all. Saturday morning I awake as I normally would on a weekday- early -and I have an itch. I start cleaning, making emails or phone calls. Lists start appearing on various papers, as I can’t stop thinking about what I didn’t get done last week. Roland is happily slumbering away, sleeping sometimes to noon, IF I let him. You see, I am a sharer- I love to talk- I love to be with people. I have never once in my life lived alone and I have absolutely no desire to. Roland and I rarely have spent our life just us two and I usually enjoy having roommates as I am sure Roland does too because I can leave him alone if I have someone else to play beer pong or drink coffee with me on an early Saturday morning.
So Saturday morning’s usually a bust. But by Saturday afternoon and evening I am usually lubricated enough to not give a flying fuck about my lists and I can be the lovable- if obnoxious- Shoosha that people adore.
Sunday morning into the afternoon, is my Sunday Unday. I stay in bed with my coffee and my newspaper. I read it all and do the puzzles. There is usually some sporting event my husband finds interesting that is the background to my internet surfing and book reading. I am in the ultimate relax mode… until I see the clock turn 5pm. My heart starts to race- have I really not showered today- oh shit, don’t forget about that meeting tomorrow- oh and the dentist- did you cancel that Friday morning plan you said yes to, when you know you have no time to do all that? I frantically pull out my planner and more miscellaneous paper and more lists are made. I get curt and ornery and poor, poor simple and honest Roland looks at me like- “really? You’re gonna ruin my weekend- AGAIN!?”
I don’t know why my brain will not allow me to actually relax. I don’t know why I carry the world on my back as if it is my duty to keep every plate that is near me spinning. I do know that this is the reason that people hire me to Stage Manage, or to work in offices, or to organize events, or to just keep things in line. I also know this is why Shoosha is who she is: the opposite of Tricia- the antithesis of organization. This is also why I have a dirty corner in my bedroom (much to Roland’s ire) where I can pile books, Nation magazines, Lindor Truffle wrappers and discarded clothing. Where dusty glasses of water make rings on the nightstand and hair ties and headbands and safety pins gather. He begrudgingly puts up with this corner of chaos and on the rare occasions where I gather the spirit to clean it up (ahem- straighten it) he does lavish me with praise and adoration.
I am not a clean person- I mean, the hippy lifestyle I was once immersed in really fit my disposition of anti-showering. Not to say that I don’t LOVE a hot bath with my books or really that I love to stand in the shower and sing all the songs that I wish karaoke nights had- like Ani Difranco, or Joni Mitchell or Jeff Buckley. This goes back to my obsession with people and company. I hate, hate, HATE being alone. This is why you exist! This blog was a buffer for those Monday afternoons where I was sitting at my house after a workout with Miguel and everyone I know was at work and trolling facebook had lost it’s luster and I decided to write down what I was thinking and then eventually I started to post it on a blog and then eventually all of you people came in and started to read it. It made me feel like I was still communicating with someone- that I wasn’t alone.
I have this abnormal fear of missing out on something awesome. This is why my 5 flag rule is in effect for urination. I literally count my “oh, you have to pee” flags up to 5 before I actually go to the bathroom. I will hold onto my urine through multiple conversations, whole sets of music, innumerous shots/drinks until I hit the dreaded flag 5 and I find myself running to the restroom to finally urinate. But this also helps me have a very hard and fast stream so that my time in the bathroom is SUPER FAST! I have had complements from many women in my life as we waited in line for the restroom on how quick and efficient I am. Many PEOPLE- I should say, because in Europe there were many moments where men at the uni-sex bathroom would be floored at how fast I was. I believe it may count as a super power.
This fear of missing out on something also makes me stay up crazy late- to force myself to be “the life of a party”- to dabble in cocaine and other narcotics just to keep up with the peverbial “Joneses” at an event. Oh, and the shots- or as my friend Shannon and I call them- Secret Shots- because I don’t do shots. Nope. I do not do them. At All. Unless they are secret, or unless I am just doing them, because the fact is- I do shots. I mean, this is crazy right? I have created a way to seem like I am a good girl in her thirties that has learned through years of trial and error that I do not react well when given shots. I get super drunk super fast and inevitably I will say something offensive- most likely to a close friend or to a complete stranger- so I abstain. No Thank You. “Oh what, best friend in the world/or husband I love/ or guy at the bar that thinks I am cute even with my wedding ring on…. Yes, yes I would LOVE to take a shooter/a shot of hot damn/ tequila or jaggermeister. Because god forbid I miss out on this opportunity to make an ass out of myself… again.”
I really do love me. This is an endless rant of awesome proportions and I do thank you all for reading this. My meandering blog entry is coming to an end… mostly because I am on flag 4 and want to get to a good spot before… opps…. Gotta go. (pun intended.)