May Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

New Year's Eve, the birthday of Anthony Hopkins (70) and a guy I used to date in Florida (56), and somewhere in the world, my Brazilian pal Suzanne is remembering the same 1999 into 2000 New Year's Eve we spent partying like it was 1999, knowing we were going ahead into the new millennium in different directions, this night would not happen again. She was more stuck in Florida than I was, and was frankly jealous I was planning on moving to Oregon. We got to be really close friends while working together at the B-store in Boca, then when I left in July she never returned my emails or calls. Mutual friends said she had taken on her own store, was buried in work, and had to cut some ties. I understood, I'd done it myself. But I hate when great people leave my life. Tonight I'm not partying at all, I'm doing a Martha Stewart, baking date corn muffins and knitting a new black tweed wool cardigan, and the nutmeg is wafting into the living room just about now. I have an early appointment tomorrow.

My other blast of the past situation is playing out in the morning, Jasmine Tree Girl emailed me that she wants to hash out the relationship breakdown from the summer of 2005, and I said okay. My other friends have cautioned me, that this may not be recoverable, and I'm full of apprehension about having this chat, but don't feel I have any illusions about reviving our formerly sisterhood connection. I can predict that she'll not like what I have to say about it, and the whole thing may conclude for good by noon. Or, she may surprise me, it may make sense to her after all, and we can take a few steps forward in a fresh start in 2008.

Starting this blog last year about this time, I was facing a huge new threshold, a big expanse of unknown, and was paddling as fast as I could to conclude the heavy work of closing my stores and taking care of my people. It was easier for me to stay occupied with all of that and set aside my own coping until February 1st 2007, when I would be officially unemployed. As I've written about here, and spent hours and days re-examining, there's been so much discovery and release of old burdens this past year, and I am really happy where the past 12 months have brought me. Having this woman choose to contact me right now, and want to resolve things right now, I just don't want to get bogged down by something I was feeling settled with. Do we really have to excavate this whole thing now? I don't even care anymore if she understands my perspective like I did at the beginning, I don't need her to say I'm right or even agree about any of it. But she wants to understand more, and I'm going along, I guess for old time's sake. Either way, finish it up and keep moving, that's where I am about it all. Then drive to the gym and sink into the eucalyptus steam. Happy Spa New Year.

The muffins are out of the oven now, OMG, sometimes I forget what a great baker I can still be sometimes. I think I'm going to do more baking in the new year, brownies and muffins have been well received in the last few weeks, and it makes the morning coffee ritual so much more nurturing. And fortifying for the trek into the haunted house in a few hours...

Happy New 2008, new risks, new rewards, new journeys, new friends, continued happiness. Starting the Official Countdown to Porch Days 2008, 89 days away, or the first sunny days above 50 degrees, which ever comes first.

It's Not About the House

House Envy---

It's ugly, petty, beneath me, and merely a distracting symptom from the real issue.

I'm not a monetarily successful middle aged woman. Meaning, I did not succeed at a high-paying, high-powered job, was not "old money", didn't inherit it, marry it or work to support a man who would reward me with establishing a lucrative practice then bequeath me a hefty divorce settlement and child support---god, I did it all wrong. Can this pitiful life be saved? Is it too late now?

Some of my friends have politely asked me how the lunch with long-lost Jasmine Tree Girl went, what's next now, are the edges mended?

It's been two weeks already, and I'm finally almost done sorting through all the upturned earth that day left behind for me, and seeing what's there. And like I said, it's not about the house, and I'm not jealous of her (though I have been in the past), it's about seeing my life in her mirror of success and being much more Shabby than Chic after traveling much of the same road with her, we began in the same place, in the same restaurant kitchen job. We made such different choices and arrived in the same town again, but it looks so differently. I mean, a woman doesn't usually say to herself, 'Wow, how can I financially sabotage my life? Let's do this,' does she? I never did anyway, but I also very seldom said, 'What is the Biggest Money route here? I'll do that,' either.

J.T.G.'s new house is a 1920's bungalow showcase. She and her husband have slaved on it for over a year, and they've done a beautiful job. He brought funds, she already owned a house, they combined strengths and created this dream home. I loved it, and can see the labor of love and commitment it is, they have fine taste, and have made it their home together. Both of them have jobs that take them away from it for such long days, that it's their retreat and sanctuary on Sundays when they cocoon and sleep. They nurture each other there and it shows in each unique detail of cabinet, glass, color, fabric and light.

Is this what they call "settling down"? Adulthood? I told a friend that for a while I felt like I had walked into an episode of "thirtysomething" and was the impractical, whimsical artsy chick and Hope's older sister and I were chatting while Hope was making tea in the stainless-cherry-granite kitchen Michael had restored with Craftsman details. It felt like a long winter afternoon to me, and I left at 4:30. With an entire fallow meadow overturned in my soul, what does it mean, how did we arrive at such different places, what would I have done differently, what is this going to look like now, what do I want to do with this? It is and it isn't about the house, it's the paths to the house that I'm analyzing, and I'm not resolved yet about it.

School is 100% of my headspace right now, and that afternoon has receded into the mid-winter murk somewhat. No, I didn't give her my blog address, and we've only exchanged one email each since then, everything is open-ended and friendly. We've both moved on quite a distance, so it remains to be seen what's next. Finishing my degree is so much more than merely fulfilling credits to an end goal, and I'm reminding myself every day over and over that this is really happening, really really happening, my 'Student, Interrupted' phase is getting mended, healed, fixed-up, revived. This is such a huge thing to me, in some ways I'm 19 again, then I catch a glance in the Success Mirror and see what the rest of the world sees, and it stops me cold. Still have much to sift through, I guess, and school is the best vehicle to do it.

Jasmine Tree Girl

Oh, the sudden surprise, to see that name in my inbox this afternoon...

Jasmine Tree Girl sent out an exploratory jingle, anyone still out there? Hope you're well, want to sip tea and talk?

Funny, I was thinking of her yesterday afternoon while washing dishes. A picture of her with very short hair is in a funky sage green frame on the wall above the sink, with a splendid blue Hindu god in the frame next to her, and I mused about how it had never occurred to me to take the picture down, not ever. I hoped she was doing well, and thought how happy she'd have been to know I was going back to school. Lala la la la, back to the Mrs. Meyers and sponge.

I didn't really hesitate to reply, but I did marvel a bit and wonder what would happen next. How will it be now, is this a touchpoint only? Or a new era of our friendship? Will we just start again from here, or go over what happened two years ago?

What taking a two year break has done for me, is to have undergone what always was my greatest fear about her, losing her, and I survived quite well. I lived through losing her, and all the part of my life that we had shared for 25 years being lost, and I'd consciously changed some perspectives I'd had for so long. There were major life transitions for me that I had walked and cried through without her, and I'd still been able to keep going, without her understanding and emotional support. I hadn't regretted what made the break happen, but I did miss her less and less than I was always afraid I would. She was the sister I had never had, and I lost that sister, and it broke my heart. But I managed to keep going, and that is good, a realization I may never had been able to make without this separation. So---that is good, too.

The daydreams we both had, about what living in Portland at the same time would be like, never really became real, and I wish it could have happened. It was a beautiful life, and real enough to me living miserably in Boca Raton to propel me out here with my cat, books and music. I thought about the best days when we were housemates in Ann Arbor, when we first met, living in the funky sage green bungalow on the cul-de-sac called Bath St., doors and windows open wide all summer, communal living and herb gardens. I brought that all with me out here, intact like a relic in amber, thinking it would all just come back to life. She was not such a preservationist, and doesn't remember those bungalow days with as much fondness as I do, and is usually much better at working from where she is now. The daydream fell apart.

We always complimented each other well, her Aquarius to my Cancer, but I had a lucid moment once listening to her, when I realized she had matured so much more than I'd noticed, she'd become a real 'grown-up', which I resist more and more as I get older. When we met, I was more mature than I think I am now, and she was whimsical and romantic---now we've flipped sides somehow, she's gotten really good at maneuvering in the grown-up world, and I want to get back to simple as much as possible.

What is next? Tea, a chat, weird silences? A long hug, tears, babbling brooks for hours?
Stay tuned.