Revisiting History

Pixelated to protect Mr.
Wrong's identity.

Those of you in a relationship know that, oftentimes, your significant other will "rewrite history" during an argument. It's crazy making! If only things actually went down the way they say it did, there wouldn't have been a problem in the first place. Well, today, I decided to play that game, only I'm re-imagining my whole marriage. And I'm starting with the images.

So, there are many problems with my marriage photo. One, he's got his back to me. Two, he's not touching me. And, three, he's in the damn thing. I can't have that. So, I broke out the rusty Photoshop skills, and...

See, George Clooney was my man. For a looooooonnnnnggggg time. I think I watched this video enough times to recreate a shot-by-shot remake from memory alone. But, move over, Georgie, I got a new love! Chrissy-Chris-Chrisssssss! I adore his goofy nature, how excitable he can be over the smallest things, and, well, he's not bad to look at, either. And, guess what? We're married now, and the wedding photo is so much nicer! Am I concerned that, in the picture, his left arm is contorted grotesquely? No, because he would never say things like, "I said I'm sorry like a million times, and it wasn't good enough for you". Do I care that he has a greenish glow around him, as if he'd been exposed to an enormous amount of radiation? Heavens, no, because he got me the perfect engagement ring, AND bought me a pearl necklace to give me on the day we shared our nuptials, because he knew I was the best thing to happen to him, and he wanted to show his appreciation for my trust. No way would Chris say, 8 years after he promised me jewelry, "And what's in it for me?". Nuh-uh. Rich, funny, willing to do a pratt (get it?! a pratt!) fall to get a laugh. Ah, so much better!

Bring It!

I'm in the midst of a divorce, I'm struggling to keep my job, and my daughter's school is playing fast and loose and I'm taking them on, too.  I'm in a fighting mood, I tell you!  And I feel great, because I let myself get pushed around for too long.  I've turned the other cheek, now it's time to take an eye for an eye.

How do I stay positive when everything around me is coming down?  Well, there's my daughter, and I'd suffer any difficulty for her.  Plus, she's lovely, and brightens my days.  But, I can't look to an eight year old to bring me joy; that needs to come from within.

Regarding the battle I'm waging with my daughter's school, that is a no-lose situation for me, because the principal is not doing the right thing and knows it.  Easy to win.  Call the higher powers and things will get rectified.

On the relationship front, yes, day-to-day is pretty ugly, but I'm thinking long-term, and I know that in the end, I'll come out stronger and better. Just pulling off the band aid.

Now, for my job.  Ugh.  This will be the hardest of all.  I need to keep it, because I will soon become a single mother. It's not the kids, or the unreasonable expectations and ever-increasing workload, or even the perception that teaching is "easy", or, worse, some sort or calling where everything else is sacrificed. If you can't guess the reason I'm not loving my chosen career, PM me and we'll play hangman to guess the answer.

I have put out feelers to return to my old, more remunerative career, but giving up my summers is going to be a major sacrifice after 13 years with summers off.  I'm bit a lost here.  I don't know if being a tired and beleaguered, yet always optimistic, teacher is worth fighting for.

But, in the end, my motto is "unreasonably happy", because, from one angle, there is very little reason to be in a good mood.  But, there's no dress rehearsal for life. This is it! And, I'm going to enjoy it, DAMMIT! So, C'mon! Who wants a piece? Because nothing's going to beat me!

EDITOR'S NOTE: I evidently wrote this post 2 years ago and never published it. I know this because Tootie Pie is now 10, and I've taught 15 years! But, still, this post is more applicable than ever!

My Sweet George!

I'm still in shock. My lovely George Michael has, say it ain't so, DIED! A part of me has died as well.

This man, mmmmmmmmm, he could sing, he could move, and he was gorgeous. The Generation X equivalent of Elvis. And, in a similar fashion to the King, he did get a bit pudgy towards the end and, well, there could have been some drugs implicated, but, yeah, at their primes they could make the ladies swoon. Of course, the Boomers made a huge deal about their beautiful crooner. But we enjoyed ours without having to make him everything. But, he was everything. Everything smart, fun, emotional, and straddling the friendly/sexy line perfectly for a teen like me.

Yes, I miss Prince and his funkiness. Yes, Princess Leah was my style icon for a summer there. But they weren't MINE like George was mine. Perhaps there has always been a part of me that like the gay ones, even before they knew it, never mind. There will never be another. He was an angel - an imperfect angel - but as close to perfect as is possible to be, at least for me. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.