The Dawn of a New Era: My 30′s and a Biological Clock
Do you ever wonder where all that time went? I remember when I was 16 and 30 seemed so far off and I had loads of time to do anything and everything, but it seems that the older we get the faster it goes. I don’t even know what happened to the past 10 years and 16 feels like yesterday and at the same time a whole different world.
I keep going over in my head everything I’ve done in the past 10 yrs and it seems like nothing and way too much. Went to college…check. Got married…check. Got divorced…check. Had lots of inappropriate sex…check. Did things that my parents should never ever know about…check. Roamed around the country…check. Changed jobs a gazillion times…check. Partied until I never wanted to taste alcohol again…check. Had kids…no check. Oh yeah, that’s what I forgot to do, have kids.
Crap, how did I forget to do something so important? Oh, I remember now, I never wanted kids. So, then what’s up with all of these “baby feelings” I’m having. I can’t even take the train to work without wanting to either burst into tears or steal someone’s baby. It’s a problem. I never actually believed in the so-call “biological clock” before, but now it’s happening to me and I’m a mess. My body is saying have a baby, my emotions are saying have a baby, my head is saying that is the most irresponsible thing you can do right now. I’m so very torn and I’m scaring the crap out of my girlfriends who don’t seem to have any kind of maternal feelings whatsoever. Then I made the mistake of confiding in my dad that I want to have a baby and got a lecture about getting married first. He doesn’t seem to realize that it is possible in this day and age for a woman to have a child and not get married and it’s okay. So, I told him that I want a baby, not a husband, and got the sigh of doom. Been there, done that, don’t want to do it again. My mother on the other hand just wants more grandbabies and has been pushing me to have kids since I was 19, like I’m not under enough pressure as it is. The actual thought of giving birth scares the bejeezus out of me and I worry that my hoo-ha will never be the same. I know it sounds stupid. And what about my plan to travel to every civilized continent and meet exotic men? Is it really worth it to give up these kinds of things? Then I think about my nieces and nephews and how much I love them and how I’m secretly jealous of my siblings, but I cannot tell them that because I’m supposed to be living some kind of glamorous child-free life in NYC. Honestly, it’s not all that glamorous and my job kind of sucks, but at least I’m not a stay-at-home mom like my sister, right? This is all very confusing and slightly panic inducing.
So, is 30 when it all starts going downhill and all you can think about is how adorable that snotty little child is and it’s okay if she spits up on my new Max Azria blouse because she’s just soooo cuuute and that’s what dry cleaners are for? Yeah, I seriously feel like beating my head against the wall or going to therapy; same thing really.
Just A Thought…
Something I’ve been mulling over for awhile:
Women as a whole have not come as far as we think. We are buried deep in the earth by fear, duty and guilt. We are suffocating on the gravedust of the lives we wish to live. Why aren’t we ruling the planet? Because our goal is to be loved and needed, if that means sacrificing ourselves and identities for the prodigal husband, so be it. Duty to our husbands and fathers outweighs everything else, and an unmarried woman is unforgivable. There must be something wrong with her, she can’t even keep a man. What a bad example of a woman!
Briefly….
She had the golden curls of a cherubic 5-yr old, the face of a naive 15-yr old, and dressed like a 30-yr old woman on the prowl.
Just Me
I have spent the past 29 (dangerously close to 30) years trying to be whatever and whomever everyone else needs me to be. Now, finally, I’m trying to be just me. However, I’m not quite sure who that is. I mean I’ve been daughter, granddaughter, sister, girlfriend, wife, mother, boss, co-worker, counselor, friend, etc, but somewhere in all that mess is supposed to be me.
So, how do I find it. I know the supposed answer is that I am an amalgam of all those things, but it is not as simple as that, it’s like saying “I am a woman”, that is never a simple statement. What is it exactly that defines us as a being, a unique identity? And what do we do when we feel lost because we have given so much of ourselves to the others in our lives?
Is the answer to just go to another therapist so they can tell us the magic answer, give us another magic pill? I think I’m looking for something more spiritual, not god or religion per se, since I don’t believe in it, but some form of spirituality within myself. That connectedness you feel with the universe, the rightness, the balance and then you just know who you are, where you are, and what you’re supposed to do. I used to have that and I don’t know what happened to it.
Idealism vs. Realism
When I was a little girl I wanted to save the world, my life was all about causes. Then I grew up and realized that life sucks and you’re lucky if you can save yourself. After too many miscarriages, failed marriages, crappy jobs and unfulfilled dreams; you just keep plodding along and try to survive all those little curveballs life throws at you.
So, when is the point when you stop “just surviving” and actually start “living”? When you’ve been ridden hard, put away wet, and feel all dried up? Is that when you realize there’s more to life and say “to hell with the consequences, I’m going to have some FUN!”? Is it too late? Is there life after hell? I’d sure like to think so.
I know I may seem young to some, even though 30 is looming quite near, but I like to think I’ve learned a few things so far. Not everything of course, because if you ever stop learning, then it’s time to stop living. But, I think I’ve finally realized it’s time to live my life for myself and not my mother/father/husband/family. One needs to be selfish once in awhile and not be consumed by guilt for trying to be happy. Why do I feel so guilty for wanting to pursue my dreams? Maybe it’s a woman thing, according to Erica Jong guilt and womanhood go hand in hand. I can definitely relate to the concept.
I guess I’m going to leave this with a bunch of unanswered questions. Maybe those who read this will form some questions of their own and start searching for the answers. God knows I don’t have them, but I’m going to keep looking.
Definitions
Love and relationships. Nowadays, there seem to be so many different definitions of these two simple words. We ask ourselves is this a relationship? Is this the kind of relationship I’m looking for? Do I love love him or do I like love him? It is all so subjective, but Merriam Webster seems to have no problem in defining these concepts. Wouldn’t life be so much simpler if we could just adhere to these definitions instead of constantly redefining and making up different “types” of love and relationships. I find myself having an irrational fear of these things and all the complications they bring to my life, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way.
Random Imagery
For some odd reason this picture evokes a sense of sentimentality and nostalgia in me. It reminds me an avant garde version of home.
Jane’s Veil of Disdain
Okay, so this is an old blog from November 2006, hence the reference to PS3. However I really like it and it ‘s still relevant.
I look at this life, this world, and find myself feeling contempt. On the 10 o’clock news they had a feature about the sad people who have been lined up since yesterday afternoon waiting for the new PlayStation 3 that doesn’t come out until tomorrow. What is that about? Do these people have nothing better to do with their lives? GO READ A BOOK! Enlighten yourselves, learn something new, evolve. Then I ask myself why I even care, why I constantly get worked up about these ‘issues’. I have no answer for that. I feel the need to affect change, always have, yet I feel this constant disdain for the human race. I abhor automatons; for those of you reading this who don’t know what that word means, look it up, I’m not your teacher. This whole thing with the PlayStation reminded me why I boycotted the Star Wars movies a few years back. I believe it was in either 1999 or 2000, and the Star Wars Episode 1 movie was coming out. At the time I was living in Manhattan, KS and we were sending a lot of troops from Fort Riley over to Bosnia, when I picked up the newspaper the front page story was about the Star Wars movie and all the crazies lining up for days to see the movie, then back on page 12 ‘Fort Riley sends 700 (*approx) more troops to Bosnia’. I was irate and ranted about this for days, maybe weeks, on end. I boycotted all Star Wars movies and haven’t seen any since then. My point is, is that it’s things like this that are at the root of the problem with this country. People don’t care about what really matters. All this nonsensical Hollywood hoopla is at the forefront of our consciousness, instead of the what’s actually happening right in front of our eyes. The average Joe Blow has a split-second attention span and if something is not entertaining or shocking it’s not even going to register on his radar. And we wonder why returning veterans are brushed aside and forgotten, it seems that they only get any press time if they actually die, and even then only if it’s under suspicious cirucumstances. It’s a sad, sad state and that’s why I am Jane’s Veil of Disdain.
Quotes By Me (Nikki-isms)
“The only thing in this world that does not have a rational explanation is why people are religious.”
“…and then everything got fucked sideways.”
“Bus people don’t exist, they just aren’t real. They’re like extras in the movie of my life.”
“She’s so cute she reminds me of a china doll. I just want to put her up on a shelf and look at her.”
“I don’t give a flying psychotic fuck!”
“Oh, well, fuck me running sideways with a steel pole!!”
“I would rather be dead than homeless, but I would rather be homeless than live in a trailer park.”
“The worst kind of girl is one who takes it up the ass with no lube in a dirty bathroom. Example: Britney Spears.”
“We are sad, sad people.” (upon realizing we had $7 dollars between the two of us)
“Why do they have to do that and make me aware of them?” (when hearing someone whistling at the bus stop.)
“The elevator to Hell will play country knock-offs of pop music.”
“They may hate us, but goddamn it, they’re entertained!”
“Church is scary.”
“Marketing companies should cater to the drug community.”
“If you are unable to make a song sound better, please don’t redo it”
“It should be legal to shoot people who speed up when you are trying to pass them.”
*more to come*
Virgin Post
Okay, so this is my first post on this site and I was racking my brain for something to write, to introduce myself. Then I had a brainwave why not put up an excerpt of something I’ve written before, a beginning of a story. So here goes.
You know how they say that death is final? I think the person who said that didn’t really understand what death is. There are so many different types of death, but no one really understands or realizes it. That moment when you breathe your last breath, when your soul flees your body for somewhere other than here, that is just the last of many deaths you will experience throughout your lifetime.
That is what I thought about, what finally occurred to me as I sat in that room. The room with dingy walls and a sunken mattress. The room full of people and mirror covered in fine white powder. The room where the last of my childish innocence died a slow and agonizing death.
I looked around that room at all the people, ‘my friends’, and they suddenly looked alien to me. Then I happened to glance at the mirror on the wall and the image displayed shocked me. It was me, I knew that intellectually, but I didn’t recognize her. I saw a stranger staring back at me, and she made so sad I felt like crying. I just wanted to reach out and hold her, let her know that it was all going to be okay, that I would fix it.
That was the moment when I stood up and walked out on my life.
I guess I should go back a bit further and tell you how I ended up in that room. I believe the end began in 1994, when I was 14 years old. That was when I discovered that simple power that all women have, to control, seduce, manipulate, and I was drunk.
So there it is. I’m not sure what it exactly says about me, but it’s a piece of me. I’m thinking of moving all of my myspace blogs over here, they are quite random. A few rants regarding society and politics, a few poems, some personal drama, and other odds and ends. If anyone is interested in checking out my myspace page, the url is www.myspace.com/la_vendetta_bella. Ciao for now, kiddos.
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