Author: the outside lane

Happy. That about covers it.
Uncategorized

Women Worth Knowing: Meet Valarie

the outside lane

Meet Valarie.  She’s the blonde on the left.  Hotcha!  I met Valarie around 1998 in a web forum.  That’s right, I said web forum.  When she first came to my attention, she was living on the East Coast, planning a drastic move out to California.  She was a great writer, and a funny gal, and I enjoyed reading her.  It was several years later before we met in person as part of a large group of pilgrims to Las Vegas.  You can pilgrimage to Las Vegas, can’t you?  I’m not sure either of us remember much of that meeting, and maybe less of our second rendezvous in the same city for a mutual friend’s wedding.

Either way, I’ve kept up with the Viper for all these years through LiveJournal and Facebook, and I have this to say:  Valarie impresses me more as a human being than most people I’ve ever met.  She is fearlessly honest with herself.  She is willing to stand emotionally naked in front of a mirror and look herself in the eye, see what needs to be changed, and then work to change it.  This woman is an inspiration.  Nearly every one of her journal entries (except the ones about Manic Street Preachers–I’m clueless) clues me in to my own needs to reflect or change, and I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve taken what she’s had to say and shared it with my other girlfriends.

Valarie is a world traveler, a rabid hockey fan, and lover of British television.   She is a shiny, sparkly, shoe loving, DIY queen.  Happily, she has declared her affection for Richard Hammond, so I can safely declare mine for Jeremy Clarkson.  One day, Valarie and I will go to England together and kidnap these fine men and force them to talk cars to us all day long.  What happens after dark…well, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Name: Valarie
Age: 39 (really I can say that without hyperventilating. really) [Since Valarie answered these questions, she’s has celebrated the first anniversary of the 39th birthday.]
Job Title: Police Dispatcher/911 Operator
Industry: the Po Po

Who are you?
I’m…just me. And though I am a work in progress, for the first time ever I think I’m finally comfortable with who I am. I’m a very solitary private person and I think that’s both good and bad. Somewhere deep within is the Disney-movie-loving girl who believes in happy endings even though there’s also the cynical ‘outer crust’ that says that’s total bs.

Recently I’ve begun to integrate my past with my present and though disconcerting at times, it’s what I need to do and it feels good. It’s time.

Describe your family:
I haven’t spoken to She Who Birthed Me in 20 years. I could write a novel about that but instead of boring everyone with that, I’ll say instead that my friends are my family for the most part. They are amazing and wonderful and I wouldn’t be here where I am today without them.

I have cousins, aunts and uncles on my dad’s side that I talk to but I keep myself distant from them for a variety of reason that I fully don’t understand. I have made more of an effort recently with my cousins via Facebook.

What does the first hour of your day look like?
A good deal of incoherence and bitter mumbling if it’s a work day. Hit snooze – a lot – , stagger up, remember to put the phone in my purse, bathroom, shower, makeup, clothes, grab the Diet Coke out of the fridge and off to work.

If it’s a day off then it’s much more enjoyable. Wake up, turn on TV, slump back into the pillows and watch something while my brain warms up, usually aided by a Diet Coke.

What does the last hour of your day look like?
My day is backwards since I work at night and get home at 7 am. Usually stop at the grocery store, get mail, check mail, eat while watching Clean House or Clean Sweep or both, read, sleep.

What makes you feel successful?
Compliments from my guys at work, getting messages from them saying ‘Thank God you’re here now!’, knowing I did whatever I could to help them out and just being able to know in general that I did my best. Being/getting organized also helps in work and at home.

What brings you joy?
It may sound cliched but the small things – driving home and being able to see an amazing sunrise, having a favorite song come on the radio, being curled up in bed and at the optimum level of comfort and contentment, hearing from friends, drinking an icy Diet Coke, making someone laugh, seeing cute baby pics, hugging warm fat puppies, etc.

Also anything shinysparkly.

What were you like in the first, sixth and twelfth grades?
First: Don’t remember much. Good little girl basically doing what she was told and obeying all the rules.

Sixth: Mostly traumatized. I had skipped 5th grade and switched schools – my first time in a public school. I got braces put on and that was the year that my grandfather died (which turned out to be a lifechanging event). About the best thing I can remember is starting a food fight at lunch to get the attention of a boy I liked. And Mondrian in art class.

Twelfth: A rebel in my own way. I was in prep school and horribly unpopular but I had my own tight little group of friends and we adored each other.

What advice would you give yourself at each of those ages?
First: Relax. Really. Enjoy your childhood even though she didn’t give you much of one.

Sixth: It’ll get better. It’ll take a long time and there will be lots of pain but I will never ever forget you. He loved you and that will never go away.

Twelfth: Stand strong. You’re on the right path and yeah, she’s giving you a hell of a time but you have the love of your friends to give you the support you need. You’re only just beginning to realize your own strength.

Who do you admire?
My nan
various celebs:
Cher
Princess Diana
Ann Richards
Viggo Mortensen
I really can’t list everyone, famous or not, because I think I can find something to admire about so many people depending on what mood I’m in, what I’m doing, what the person has done. I do tend to look at moms a lot and I really admire good moms who truly love and cherish their children.

Uncategorized

Meet Amy

the outside lane

The first time I saw Amy, I thought, “Oh, that girl is trouble.  I need to meet her.”  We worked together, so meeting her was easy.  Making friends was even easier.

I was right.  Amy is trouble.  She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s funny, and I have had men drop doors shut on me in their haste to follow her out of them.  She is devilishly delightful, wickedly witty, and when I needed to summon all of my energy and focus it into action, it was Amy I channeled to get the job done.  This is a woman who knows how to get the job done. 

Amy works as an analyst in the fashion industry, living the glamorous life of a working mom in Manhattan, is teaching herself to play guitar, and is perfectly suited to Jane Austen novels.  Amy is my Lobster, so I could go on and on telling my version of her story, but I want you to meet her personally, so let’s see what she has to say for herself.

Who are you?

I’m the woman who gets side-eyed a lot. I’m the mother who had kids so
young she had to grow up with them. I’m the occasional wife. I’m the
financial analyst who is most comfortable in jeans and bare feet doing
something earthy. I’m the eclectic chick who pays attention to the
phases of the moon and grows her own vegetables.

Describe your family:
My family consists of my 12-year-old, my 4-year-old, my boyfriend, and our cat. We are a team. We laugh together and cry together and get cranky with each other. We are wildly different in personality but we try to use that to our advantage and avoid stepping on toes as much as possible.

What does the first hour of your day look like?
The first hour of my day is often the best. I’m a morning person. I love
to stretch and sprawl across the bed and snuggle the boyfriend for a good 15 minutes before climbing down (loft bed, wood ladder, surprisingly easy to fall at 6 am). I shower (or not), futz around, make up, futz around, put dinner in the crock pot (or not), write in my journal, futz around, hop on the subway and about 90 minutes from my alarm’s first chime, I’m walking into work.

The last hour?
The last hour gets sloppy. I’m not a night person. I’m usually reading,
with a glass of wine in hand; if not I’m chatting online with a friend,
with a glass of wine in hand.

What makes you feel successful?
Mastering something. When I can truly wrap my mind around something, take it in and digest it, explain it to someone else without having to reference another source, I feel like I’ve accomplished something.

What brings you joy?
Obvious things bring me joy: my children laughing, flowers, fall leaves,
unexpected gifts, good music. Absurd things also bring me joy: when my daughter calls her elbow her “elmo,” street performers who have no
talent but a lot of heart, witty sarcasm well delivered, getting lost
while on vacation, the word godzundheit.

What women do you admire?
I admire women who have the courage to do what they feel is right for
them. I admire Eleanor Roosevelt (but that’s a boring answer because
everybody admires Eleanor). I admire Walladah al-Mustakfi, 11th century Spanish poet who lived life her own way and stared down the critics. I admire my sister Heidi who managed full-time nursing school with a full time job and two kids at home because she had the courage to face down 2 really hard years in order to enjoy the rest. I admire my BFF because she stood for her principles when they were unpopular and held her head high no matter how they tried to humble her.

What advice would you give boys about girls?
I would tell a boy that a girl can seem tricky when she’s changing her
mood or laughing when she’s sad and crying when she’s happy but that’s
the beauty of women. Don’t criticize the differences, embrace them.

How do you overcome adversity?
I overcome adversity by glaring at it until it wilts and if that doesn’t
work I charge at it until it swerves first and if that doesn’t work I
tear it to the ground one piece at a time. I’m not exactly suave.

How do you want to be remembered?
I want to be remembered as… the woman who gets side-eyed a lot, the
mother who had kids so young she had to grow up with them, the
occasional wife, the financial analyst who is most comfortable in jeans
and bare feet doing something earthy, the eclectic chick who pays
attention to the phases of the moon and grows her own vegetables.

Uncategorized

Girlcrush

the outside lane

Obviously, this is a work in progress.  I am adding some links and pages as I go.  Today’s addition includes a Women Worth Knowing page.  This is a project I started in 2009 to introduce women worth knowing to the world.  I was tired of the women being pushed in the media, who could (or maybe would) only talk about their diets, or their hair, or how hard it was to be beautiful in Hollywood.  I wanted to focus on women who were winning at life, working hard, and making their dreams come true.

I intend to continue, but until I get to a starting point again, click the “Women Worth Knowing” tab and read about jewelry designers, script supervisors, scientists, insurance adjusters, entrepreneurs and more.  All women I admire.

If you know a woman worth knowing, let me know.

Uncategorized

Nip Slip

the outside lane

When I was expecting Thor, it seemed like his announcing bump happened overnight.  One day I just looked like I’d been eating double burgers for every meal, and then suddenly BOOSH I had massive, obviously pregnant belly.  It was surprising, and amusing, and a relief that people could tell there was actually a biological reason outside of caloric intake to explain my rapidly spreading hips.

I turn 40 in December.  Now, I’m not particularly worried or even interested in that, but as suddenly as my body changed during the last few months of pregnancy, it is suddenly changing again.  I’m not kidding.  In the last two months, I have noticed drastic changes.  Unpleasant ones, up to and including spider veins in the back of my legs!

Aging doesn’t upset me.  I’m not worried about losing my looks.  I feel like I’ve got plenty of personality to fall back on once everything else goes, and if not, eh, there’s an audience for everything.  Still, I was rearranging my bra last night and the contents of it settled into a shape I had never seen before.  For the first time in my life, I seriously (and I mean seriously, not just a fleeting moment of vanity) thought, “Holy crap.  I need to get those rebuilt.”

I won’t.  That way lies madness for me.  If I got those done, I’d have to get a tummy tuck.  Then I would be obsessed about my chicken wings.  Then I would need a butt lift.  I would end up looking like the leftovers from an episode of The Swan.  Veneers.  Eyelidectomy.  Nose job.  Hair extensions.  Lash extensions.  Botox.  Lip plumping.   Pretty soon, Thor wouldn’t even recognize me.

Hundreds of years from now, when they are digging up graves, do you think archeologists will wonder why women were buried with bags of silicone?

No, I don’t mind my wrinkles, or the fact that I am suddenly also aware of gray hair.  I don’t mind that my apples have turned to pears, because one day they are going to be hard boiled eggs in knee highs.  I’m still me, no matter how saggy this thing gets.  Just don’t make me mad.  I’ll flap my arms and slap your jaws with my wings.

Uncategorized

The Skin Trade

the outside lane

I am blogging from a pedispa, where some poor woman is removing a winter’s worth of callousness from my feet. She has no way of knowing that I am going to tip her well. God bless. Whenever I think I might like to do nails, I remember my own groddy feet and reconsider.

I take pretty good care of myself and my feet still produce spaghetti noodles of dead skin. I don’t even want to consider what else might walk in a door. That, and I just hate touching other people’s meat.

Isn’t technology amazing?  A few years ago, I had just heard of blogs.  (In fact, it was mid-January of 2002.  I started a LiveJournal as a means of seducing my latest crush with my brain.  I’m not sure if it was the blog or my great smile, but something worked.  He married me.) And now I am blogging from a telephone while some stranger massages my calves with sea salt.  Amazing.

Speaking of my husband, I was thinking the other day how funny it is that I still get tongue-tied around him.  See, I still have a crush on him, and especially on his brain.  I still think he’s the smartest man I’ve ever met, and I respect his thought process, and his opinion, and desperately desire his intellectual approval.  Makes me smile goofily just thinking about it.