Magic Number... 32

WARNING:  This post talks honestly about stuff that we (and by "we" I mean single, reproductively challenged women) are made to feel we should keep to ourselves.  It might seem a bit cliche to some; but so is getting married, having kids, and resigning yourself to a life in the suburbs and dinners at Chili's on a Friday night.  We all are a cliche in one form or another. 

A week from today I will be 32.

32, that's heavy.  Almost as heavy as a box that I keep in my closet.  Five years ago after a grueling year and a half of attempting to get pregnant, I was told that I probably would never have my own child, and if I did get pregnant the chances of carrying to term were very slim.  Then I lost my husband (at the time it felt like it was because I was a failure (reproductively speaking); after a seizure and many hours of therapy I have been able to separate these two events in my mind, though the timing of these two events eerily coincide).

32... it's one of those numbers... every woman has one.  It's the number where you start to analyze how your life isn't measuring up to where you thought you'd be.  It's the number where you start to project the "even if" scenarios.  Even if I weren't reproductively challenged... I would still have to meet someone, fall in love, be with them for long enough to be sure (which as we get older the time lengthens because--- let's face it--- we have been hurt so now there are walls that have to crumble, and tiny ninjas (aka BELIEFS) with swords that need to be assassinated... they are all around our heart "protecting" it in case someone actually manages to scale or knock down the wall).  And "if" someone can make it that far... then there is the traditional path of marriage, and then the oh so scary... attempting to start a family.  "Even if" I meet some champion samurai wall buster and we go through all the phases at olympic speed... I'd still be somewhere around 35-36 and then not only am I working against my reproductively challenged organs... I'm also working against a flood of statistics that say the chances are getting slimmer every year because I'm "old" in terms of having babies.

So... what to do when you are turning 32 and reality starts settling in?  Sure, I'm not where I wanted to be, but after 5 years I do think my divorce was a blessing in disguise.  It's the baby stuff that won't leave me... after all of the convincing myself that children are not something I really want in my life, and after telling myself that society makes us believe that we want kids but if people would take the time to do some serious reflecting they would probably find that they really don't want that "traditional" life at all.  After all of this... why then does it still feel so bad when I'm looking over the rough draft for my grandma's obituary and there is a list of all the grandchildren scribbled off to the side, each with a number next to it and I realize mine doesn't have a number because I don't have any kids?  Why does it cross my mind that when I die, I won't have a slew of children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren sitting around my kitchen table planning my funeral?  Why does it hurt so bad when I hear my mother say to my sister in law, "that you're not a real woman until you've had five kids!"?  Why is it that when I'm being lazy and having a Sex and the City marathon I find myself having small outbursts of grief anytime Charlotte has to face another disappointment in herself and her body that she can't just do the one thing she wants more than anything and that our body is made to do???

Sure, my life is not all sad tears over children I might never have.  In some ways, I have a very charming little life.  I have an amazing family, adorable nephews, and a fabulous group of friends.  While the house that I live in is not maintained on the outside... the gutters are filled with leaves, and there are some trees with a lot of dead branches that need trimming... the inside (of my little place anyway) has an infinite amount of old world charm.  Yet, sometimes I can't help feeling that this is where the old and rejected have come to pass their measly single lives!  Which then makes me think--- am I just lonely for companionship?  If I knew that I could let down the drawbridge and let someone in when the day comes... can I still have the life I always wanted... just with a slightly skewed picture... maybe a little less ABC Family and a little more Food & Travel?  Is all that I want is someone to care when I'm gone?  Do I need kids for that?  Do I even need a husband?  Will it say that my life was less than someone else's in fullness if I don't have rows of people, whole generations, that are there because of me?  Will my life be less meaningful if I don't have a fireplace with stocking after stocking hanging above it at Christmas time, and framed pictures of people throughout the years-- dance recitals, graduations, weddings?

And, I confuse myself...  because I can't tell if I'm accepting things the way they are and pressing on or if I'm just convincing myself that I actually want this other life when in reality I want the cookie-cutter, pottery barn, big house in the suburbs near the good schools life???  And this life I'm convincing myself that I want (or do I really want it?) isn't even one that I can maintain right now--- sure, I might be ok not having the husband and kids if I could afford to travel, if I was doing something I love (like writing-- and I was good at it).  But that is not my life. The reality is I go to a job where I make enough to get by, I escape through books, my biggest joys are the days I spend with my mom, my sister, and my nephews and my morning latte.

And at the end of the day as much as I want to believe that I will someday be the next Elizabeth Gilbert, the reality is my box wasn't filled with National Geographics and maps of places I'd like to go.  Sure, I always knew I wanted to go to Paris & London (and I did) so maybe now I just need to dream of new places... but my box was always filled with a family.  I had names of children that I thought I'd someday have written down in a notebook long before I ever had my first period.
In college I wrote this poem:

I want my little girl
to sit next to me in the mirror
imitating what I do
powdering her nose
and smearing lipstick from one
side of her precious lips to the other
I want to laugh and take pictures of her
so the moment can be with me always
I want to go all out for big events
like Christmas
I want to decorate
to entertain
to go caroling and create new traditions
to pass on to my little girl
I want to go to her dance recitals
and watch her move gracefully
because she is a girl
and she can
Most of all I want her to
give me a kiss good night
every night
and then go upstairs and say
her prayers
before her little head rests
on her pillow and she is
carried off to the sweetest of dreams

I even knew what I would decorate her nursery like... and I'm still the girl that though my life was falling apart and I was prancing around town in a bracelet that said "Fall Risk" from my ovary surgery (I thought it was too symbolic to take off), I still went into the little children's clothing store Janie and Jack (mostly because I'm a masochist) and bought a onesie that was a promise to myself that I would not give up hope or let go of my dream.

So here I am... 5 years later, approaching 32.  Is it time to give up hope?  Life sure isn't what I expected it to be or even what I want it to be.  I've heard it said that God only gives us what we can handle-- and for the most part I feel with what I was dealt I've done a pretty good job, but I do feel I'm at the proverbial crossing in the woods.  Do I get my ass in shape, find someone to share my life with, and hope a miracle happens or that we can someday afford to adopt?  Do I let go of the box in my closet and quit dragging that around with me?  Do I start looking for a career that satisfies me and takes me places that can make me forget that I once wanted more than anything else to be a mom?

I think the answer is that I build the kind of life that I want if it's just going to be me, and if life throws some curveballs (which it inevitably will) then I adapt as they come; and the most important thing is to not close off my heart to the possibility of curveballs.  And hopefully, I'm praying to God, I figure it all out one day and can find peace with what has been given to me and the choices that I've made since.

On the hunt...

Lately I have been on the hunt.  For a man?  God no!  For a goodread? No, I'm overwhelmed as it is!  I have been on the hunt for a blog address!  Yep, that's right.  Bored of the kd-onceuponatime, and trying to shake a stalker my blog was on the move!  I visited findingmygriffe for a moment, and then I even sat with just my name: karstee.blogspot.com; when today it happened... in the most natural and meant to be way.  I was reading Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger when the character Franny is talking about praying and she says: "I mean that's the whole point of it, more or less. I mean you do it to purify your outlook and get an absolutely new conception of what everything's about."  This blew my mind.

Let me back up...

The past month I have fallen into a funk.  Something rather huge happened last month: my grandma passed away.  Now that she has left this life to join my grandpa in the afterlife; my dad and my aunt and uncle are tasked with sorting through their parents life and donating and selling items including the house we all grew up in.  Losing both of my grandparents, and oddly enough-- their house, has put me in the most somber of moods. I just can't seem to shake it.

On a much more insignificant level I made the mistake of logging into Facebook and therefore re-activating my account.  When am I ever going to learn?

I also am facing haunted memories of significant dates, drama with the aforementioned stalker, disappointment in my own behavior in how I've handled said stalker (who really for all intensive purposes is not a stalker--- she just started to feel like one after a week of being inundated with unwanted emails), work is busy and I feel dissatisfied with what I do (why does the dissatisfaction always have to creep in?), and winter seems like it might never give way to spring... all of this coupled with an apprehension over the place that I live and the choices that I've made to get me here has left me exhausted, anxious and extremely unhappy.

Where did the contentment go???

So, back to the present moment... purify your outlook.  That's it!  My God!  I need to purify my outlook!  Instantly I knew this has to be my focus.  These are my words!  Purified outlook.  It is my mission statement.  And lo and behold it isn't being used by any other person on this planet as a blog address, so it's mine!  Technically, it is Salinger's but I'm adopting it!  Welcome.

How Karstee got her "griffe" back

“Though Griffe literally translates as “claw,” Parisians have redefined it to mean “stamp,” “label,” or “signature.” it describes the pattern of favorite cafes, shops, walks, meeting places, which each of us imposes on the city and which makes it uniquely “our Paris.” a Griffe is no trivial thing. As surely as a passport, it identifies one as a bona fide resident, with loves, hates, tastes, and prejudices.”-John Baxter

As of today, this blog is no longer titled "Once Upon a Time"...  oh no, no!  Say goodbye to the blog of yesteryears... this blog is all about forward movement.  What does this "griffe" have to do with anything you might be wondering?  Well, let me tell you!

Tonight I gave a co-worker a ride home from work and during that car ride we started talking about London (talking about places with my co-workers is not uncommon seeing how they are all very well traveled and it is what we do for a living:  we are in the business of sending college students all over the world).  While talking about London, my friend asked me what I did when I lived in England.  When I told her that I used to be a housewife--- that my days and nights were filled with bowling leagues, book club, bunco, bible studies, and weekly coffee engagements with my other neighborly ladies of leisure I almost couldn't believe that used to be my life!  Trust me, there are things I miss and I'm not looking down upon that life, it just seems like another lifetime to me; so very foreign.

What I do realize is that in those years, I lost myself.  My goals and my dreams went out the window while furthering someone else's goals & dreams became my life.  In the years since that time period; there has been a lot of recovering, acceptance, and learning taking place.

When I read the passage above it was like bells going off!  I'm a person in search of my griffe.  I don't mean just my favorite cafes, shops, walks, etc.  I am looking for my label!  My signature!  I want to be a resident of this world!  I'm looking to find me, not the me before the years that I gave up to someone else; and not the wounded, scarred person in the years right after; I want the me that has learned from those lessons, accepted them, forgiven myself for them, and grown from them!  Accepting every little inch of who I've been so that I can love who I'm becoming!!!

I feel like I did when I was 18, I'm on the cusp of graduating and there is a whole world of possibilities before me.  I feel strong, limitless, and rejuvenated!  I wonder what my stamp on this world will be?

Life at 31 on the eve of 32 sure looks different than what I thought it was going to be 10 years ago; but even that thought is so refreshing!  I love that there is no predictability... While I'll admit there are times that I have mourned that my life didn't go the traditional way it was supposed to, those days are over; now all I can see is that wherever it's going it is going to be unique!  

Last night I went to a talk on campus given by an NPR correspondent that has spent a lot of time in Turkey reporting on the Arab Spring, particularly in Syria.  She said that Syria is facing a "humanitarian crisis of epic proportions".  I left there feeling on fire, impassioned, and like I sometimes feel in church when I get that gnawing feeling in the back of my mind or in the deepest chambers of my heart that tell me that I'm not living the way I should be or that there is a higher calling for me.

Before I ever got married I was so in love with History & Politics.  Every now and then I am reminded of this... I just know that this is the time for me to delve back into my passions and to pay close attention to what my heart is telling me and to be open to all the possibilities that life may hold.  I'm listening world!

Top 2012 Picks

Now is the time of year when people reflect on the year that just passed and the internet abounds with top 2012 lists, so this year I decided I would make my own (movies excluded because I don't think I saw anything worth writing about). Without adieu...

                                                                 Top 3 Fiction Books

1.  A Hologram for the King by Dave Eggers

Dave Eggers is my King.  I love him, the man can do no wrong.  I would propose marriage if he weren't already betrothed and I believed myself worthy.  That said, Eggers is making a statement about America's place in the world with this novel (and that is behind China).  He also makes us look at a flailing businessman that feels out of place in a world filled with new technologies and new selling strategies.  The setting reminds us of other cities in the middle east that we have seen on the rise that remind us of an America of yesteryears-- one full of promise and indulgences that landed us where we are today.

2.  The Sea is my Brother by Jack Kerouac

A lost novel of Jack Kerouac's published in 2012, what a treat!  This book clearly shows Mr. Kerouac's own battle within-- to stay put and make roots or to flee to places unknown!  Naturally, fleeing wins out in the end (that should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with Kerouc's work). 

3.  In One Person by John Irving

To see my thoughts on this book, please go to my previous post.
Book Review

                                                                 Top 3 "Other" Books

1.  Love, An Index by Rebecca Lindenberg

Again, please see previous post.
Perspective

2.  Paris in Color by Nichole Robertson

By far one of my favorite picture books featuring one of my most beloved cities!  The photographer also has a wonderful blog:  http://obviousstate.com/

3.  Paris vs New York: A Tally of Two Cities by Vahram Muratyan

This book comes is just the cutest thing!  Each page spread has a graphic of something that represents Paris and on the other half something which represents New York.  It is up to the reader to decide which city they love most!

Plus... one last minute pick that I got over the holiday break...

4.  Celebrate:  A Year of Festivities for Family and Friends by Pippa Middleton

Who doesn't love the Middleton girls?  This book is gorgeous!  It gives great ideas for celebrating some of the largest holidays to some of the uniquely British ones!  Love it!!!

                                                                 Top 3 Albums

1.  Tristan Prettyman's Cedar and Gold

Once more, please see my post on why this album would be number 1 for me!
Grateful
Also, check out Tristan's blog, I love it:
http://icecreamisbetterwithafork.tumblr.com/

2.  The Dave Matthews Band's Away From the World

Although this isn't my favorite album of theirs, this proves that the Dave Matthews Band is still making quality music, with thoughtful lyrics and that their sound is adjusting with their age.   Plus, he had me at "When the juice is dripping off your chin one peach is not enough".  Oh Dave Matthews, you slay me!

3.  I couldn't come up with a third album that just knocked my socks off... so for honorable mentions I would have to say Glen Hansards' Rhythm and Repose, Melody Gardot's The Absence, and Mumford & Sons' Babel.

So, that's my list, my two cents if you will.  If any of you have your top books, albums, or movies from 2012 please share! 

Book Review

Disclaimer:  If you ever plan on reading In One Person, by John Irving, then I absolutely insist that you don’t read this posting, there will be spoilers!  And if the idea of reading a book about gay people scares the you know what out of you, then I invite you to keep reading (hopefully with an open heart and mind)!

I read a book by John Irving last year called, A Widow for One Year and I was instantly a fan.  I had also seen The Cider House Rules in theaters over a decade ago and had fallen in love with that story.  So needless to say, I knew when I read that book last year that I was not done with John Irving.  So imagine my surprise when I accompanied a co-worker to the library on campus only for her to show me her little secret:  The library actually has new release books, and most the time you can find what you are looking for because the students are too busy checking out books needed for academic purposes rather than leisurely reading.  So as I spun the new release rack around and saw the new John Irving book, I couldn’t resist!  I knew any public library would have a wait and I needed to line something up in case I ever finished that beast known as Les Miserables (I did and it was amazing).  But this is not a review of that book, for while Les Mis made a socioeconomic statement for its time, I believe John Irving’s book has the capability to leave a powerful resounding statement about the times in which we live and about an “issue” that even played a role in our last political election.

Irving’s book follows a boy (William, Bill, Billy) from his developmental years all the way through to his employment later in life at the Academy that we saw him attend as a young boy.  The boy is the narrator, and he is telling the story from his later years.  We also know that the boy becomes a writer.  We learn early on in the book that the boy feels as though he has a habit of developing crushes “on the wrong people”.  It doesn’t take long for us to learn that the boy is bi-sexual.  I knew this would be a book that would challenge me, I’m a very liberal person, but that said I have always had a hard time understanding cross dressers and transgender people and this book delves right into those topics.  I would never say that I wish any ill-will towards people that cross dress or switch sexes (obviously), I just haven’t been exposed to that culture and it leaves me feeling ignorant.  So, that said, I knew this book was going to be unlike anything I ever encountered.

In the boy’s hometown in Vermont, there are so many characters!  The way the story is written I couldn’t help but try to guess at who was gay?  Who was bi?  Who was a woman that used to be a man?  Or still has man parts but wants to be perceived and treated like a woman?  At one point, I declared to my good friend and neighbor, “I think everyone in this book is gay!”  What is the author trying to do?

I kept with it though, and I’m glad I did; because midway through I came to a chapter where the boy’s first love interest (the town librarian who is a transsexual and much older) teaches the boy a wrestling move.

“'You will one day be bullied, William,’ Miss Frost said… ‘You’re going to get pushed around, sooner or later…’” She explains to him about the cruelty that people will undoubtedly show to him at one point in his life and she teaches him a wrestling move that will hopefully be enough to fight off his opponent for a moment, if only to give him enough time to run.  In the gym watching this lesson between the teenager and his older love interest are the boy’s step-father, uncle, grandfather, his best friend (Elaine), and the wrestling coach.  While the book has its fair share of people who are upset with William because of who he is, these people (in the gym) seem to accept him and understand that Miss Frost is teaching him a lesson that might one day save his life.  Any reader of this book is also in the gym getting to see this scene unfold, and much like William’s community in the bleachers I found myself wondering as I always have before:  Why would someone want to hurt someone because of their sexual orientation?  Why are there people that are so cruel?  And it’s at this point that I realized: it no longer mattered that half the town seemed gay what mattered is that I had gotten to know these characters and had extreme amounts of compassion for their story and who they innately are.

As I continued reading I noticed that the next half of the book shifted drastically—whereas the first half seemed so sexually promiscuous, the last half was devastating—The 80’s came and with it the AIDS epidemic.  We watch as characters from William’s life pass away and we worry that he might someday die of the same thing or of a hate crime.

While we don’t ever know how William’s life ends we do get to see a lot of things come to fruition.  When a son of someone from William’s past shows up to confront him about his sexually perverse novels and how unnatural they are and how unfair it is that he fills these books with a bunch of sexually confused people only to have the readers find compassion for the characters along the way---

And it clicks!  John Irving is a genius!  He takes us as readers on that exact journey!!!  And just when I think: it is 2012, I have friends that are gay and I am liberal; I realized that I still rode the roller coaster of acceptance that John Irving so masterfully set up in what is sure to be another bestseller.

Well done!

Secret to Contentment

Recently, I was thumbing through an old moleskine notebook that I used to carry around in my bag.  I used it mostly as a gratitude journal because for a while there it was hard for me to find things I was grateful for.  I thought about starting that exercise again, and realized that I am beyond that, I could think of a million and one things to be grateful for in my life at this moment.  But every now and then on a page in the little journal there were random scribbles of things that I wanted to remember but clearly had nothing else available to write them down on except my gratitude journal.

One of the things that I wrote was interesting because it is dated 5/15 but I honestly don't know if it was 2011 or 2012.  It is the last thing that I wrote in this notebook, and here is what it says:

5/15- What would you say is the secret of contentment?
-getting rid of cravings & wants that you can't have
-aligning my will to God's will

The last part leads me to think that it must have been May 15th, 2011 which was a Sunday and I must have been at church.  I don't really know if I have or ever really will know what that last part looks like, but I do know that something must have stuck as far as that first part goes... 

Because...I really feel content lately.  I feel it's a combination of things:  living a lifestyle that is more economically aligned with my income, separating myself from people, places, and things that bring negativity into my life, and enjoying the things that I have rather than wanting for more.

Five years ago, I could blow through money (and credit) faster than anyone I know (which is why I am paying the price now).  But now, I can honestly say that there is nothing that I want for.  Books?  Nah, I can check them out at the library!  I used to believe that getting them at the library would be so difficult because you'd have to be on a dreaded wait list.  "It's new, and it's the thing all the book nerds are talking about right now--- I must have it!!!"  I can just hear the old me now!  Yeah right!  I don't know how many "New Releases" are sitting on my "haven't read... yet" shelf because I bought them and then never got around to reading them.  So instead I'm reading some of those books, I'm signing up for some of those wait lists... and they are still coming in faster than I can read them!

I also notice now how appreciative I am of things when I do get them.  Recently a friend and I went to go see a movie in the $2.00 theater and it was such a great day!  Also, my sister gave me some coupons for a bunch of free food at the grocery market and I shared that free pizza with friends while we watched the classic, "To Kill a Mockingbird".  It was a cozy night!  The best though, is my mom surprised me by buying me a sweater that I just adore!  If it had been the old me (that consumed every material item I ever wanted that I came across in person or online), I would have already owned it and it wouldn't have meant as much. 

Now a lot of these changes had to come about out of necessity.  I just simply can't afford to go out and drink every weekend, or buy every book that I want to read, or shop for new clothes when my old ones are falling apart... you get the drift.  BUT, I have finally gotten to a place where I can honestly say that I have embraced my new lifestyle and if I'm ever lucky enough to make more money there are definitely some old habits that won't be making any re-appearance.  Sure... I would like to always have a bottle of wine on stand by in my what is now empty wine rack, and I'd like to have a savings account that I could draw from when things go wrong with my car.  But, I think if I had money I would rather spend it on seeing the world rather than "stuff".  I just don't crave stuff anymore.  In other words I'm interested in accumulating experiences rather than belongings.

And I'm learning to not want things that I can't have, and by this I mean...I'm learning to accept where I am right now in this moment and to not want to have my life be the way it used to be and I'm not wigging out that it isn't the way I want it to be in the future.  Standing still in this moment and being grateful for the things I have has been one of the hardest lessons for me to learn, but I finally feel as though I'm mastering it.  I used to feel that being content where I was would lead to me not having any goals or striving to be any better, I know now that these two are not intrinsic.  I can be grateful and content and I can still have goals; my goals just don't need to make me miserable in the meantime.  So what's on the menu for today-  A big bowl of angst, or a party platter of contentment???  "I'll take the contentment, please!"

♫ When I Listen To...

                                                                              David Gray

I am in the passenger seat of Tookie, also known as my friend Janet's Hyundai Tucson.  Janet is driving, the windows are down and there is a perfect breeze, one of those kinds that makes you feel like a teenager again, like at any moment you are going to put your hand out there in the wind and let it ride the waves.  Janet knows how to drive with a confidence that I always lacked; the smaller roads, the blind curves mixed with the rolling hills never so much as cause a flinch or one moment of hesitation.  Of course Tookie is American, so I being in the passenger seat am the one that could be clipped by any small oncoming British car driving 100 mph around the bend.  As I flinch at another "close call", I look at Janet who has a smile that is sunshine, her smile is the biggest of southern welcomes; and when I am in her presence I know that I am in the presence of a person with the most gentlest of spirits and this always puts me at ease.

Nuzzled up in the backseat directly behind Janet is Brandi.  Brandi's hair shines in the late day sun, she closes her eyes when the breeze blows in her face, sweeping her long hair behind her shoulders.  I hope that she is taking it all in; I hope she is getting it, I hope she is getting me.

"Babylon" comes on our adventure mix as Janet takes another bend.  I can't help but think of Pretty Woman and the line, "corners like it's on rails."  That's how Janet drives.

♫ Friday night I'm going nowhere, all the lights are changing green to red.

Around the bend we come to an expansive field of green, I want to say that it was almost like a cabbage patch; whether it was or not, I'm not sure.  Almost as if on cue, Brandi enthusiastically says, "Pull over!"  She slides across the backseat, opens her door, and crosses both lanes of what for a moment is an empty English motorway; and in a moment that I will never forget, she starts spinning around in this field, her arms open wide!

♫ Let go of your heart, Let go of your head... And feel it now

In my memory, I always see her twirling in that garden in slow motion.  She gets it!  As the song is winding down, my beautiful English sun is getting closer to setting, and our trip is one more bittersweet moment towards the end; Brandi crosses the street once more, slides back along the backseat, buckles her seatbelt.  Janet puts the car in drive, checks her mirrors, turns on her blinker and gets back on the road.

And David Gray sings on.