*If I didn’t do the order of operations right, suck it. I was an English major.
I’ve decided to start writing, again. Over the past few years that I’ve tried to re-start the blog, I’ve found that I’m a hot, depressed mess. Who wants to read that? I didn’t want to write it – for sure.
As briefly as I can state it, I lost my parents, threw my career away (not entirely, but dang…it sure did go backwards a bit in prestige and pay), everything I gave up “me” for is literally gone. So…that makes one a bit glued to the bed, I think. Not in a good way, either. But, I realized something over the last few weeks: if I’m all I’ve got, then I need to wake the heck up (Jersey girl trying really hard not use really bad language, here).
I realized, that despite my present circumstances, it is still ok to have dreams.
I realized that I have worth. (Yeah, I know…it’s 2019.)
I realized that it’s ok to be a kid-at-heart, to have fun, and to find humor in things that others might not. It is my farooking life.
I realized that I took life too seriously for way too long. Responsibility became my middle name. And while I believe that adulting needs to be handled in a mature way to ensure a little less stress, I’m realizing that my pendulum was swinging hard to the right; when, in fact, it should have been at a standstill…smack in the middle…not given to extremes. And guess what? Only focusing on all of that responsibility made me a stressed-out, out-of-balance mess and caused me to forget I was allowed to have a life.
You would probably be surprised to find out what the final step was in coming out of my years-long funk: music. Well, if you know me, you know that’s not a surprise. BUT…I went back to the past, when I was a teenager…had my rocker-girl dreams…went to L.A., to live with a band, took cosmetology classes because I thought I’d do hair and make-up for bands (good thing I quit that, given grunge was lurking two or three years down the road), continued to have dreams…(get the pattern?).
Somehow, though, I ended up supporting my mom and caring for her. Caring for my dad. Caring for some folks in my life that I love very much, but seemingly are slipping away from me…face it…have slipped away from me. Becoming a teacher, wasn’t a dream, but I love it…however, it is something else that has taken me from me. If you’re a teacher, you understand…especially if you are an English teacher. This was all done with love, but somehow I forgot to take of me, too.
All that said…back to the music and my epiphany: a few nights ago, I found myself on YouTube. I searched the all-ages clubs and not-so-all-ages clubs I frequented – legally and illegally for the bands and “scene” that kept me going through my tumultuous life. I happened upon Cinderella performing on a cramped stage, that at the time, seemed like a window to adventure for me. I remember going to see them at the Spectrum and leaving after they opened for David Lee Roth. It was amazing to see them on that stage and to hear Tom Keifer say that he was home. (Yes, I’m that person that watches everything at a concert: the crew, the band, the fans, the band, the crew…gets teary-eyed seeing others succeed – overwhelmed happy tears, because I saw the seed of the dream in the eyes of my musician friends. To see local guys do it, well…so much pride.)
As I continued watching the results of my YouTube searches, I saw bands that were folks that I had great conversations with, at the clubs and at the concerts at The Spectrum. And while I’m clearly not a teenager anymore, I realized that I can still enjoy what made me happy. I can be free to be me. I have not felt that way my entire adult life. It freaks me out and makes me so stinking excited and happy at the same time – can’t even articulate it precisely.
What brought on this epiphany? All of the above + my deeply held faith + prayer + and you’ll never believe this, watching a highly inappropriate, but crazy-talented and funny band called Steel Panther. Watching these gentlemen has reminded me of my past, the musicians I hung around with and lived with – in all their brash, bawdy, loud, obnoxious, crude boldness – has reminded me that growing up/older doesn’t have to mean you give up your dreams or your belief in yourself when others have given you up for dead. You find your way…your niche…and you have fun doing it while kicking lots of butt. Their crazy talented antics reminded me to smile and giggle with a smirk. (They aren’t faith healers, but their personas and the fact that they have taken on these personas are giving me the life lesson.)
I’m the result of a super-Scottish grandmother (a superstitious lot), so I’m trying really hard not to jinx myself, here, but for the first time in a very long time, I’m excited about life. My life sucks rocks right now, and I have spent the past few months, especially, wondering WTF…but, I have life to live. I’m not going to be a bitter hag grumping at everyone about everything that has gone wrong or has trashed my dreams. It’s not the fault of those who might be on my journey’s path.
Only I can march on forward, walking into any situation, saying, “I have come here to chew bubble gum and kick ass, and I’m all out of bubble gum.”
Now, this adult needs to unwind. Guess it is time for Sponge Bob. Wish I was in a legal state. Just sayin’.