Tag Archives: beauty

Dreams of Summer

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Lake Tahoe

Hello, been a few days.  It’s been rough going here in the land of project easier, which I know is an oxymoron, or something of that ilk.  Sometimes the world seems a scary place, and the world of work a place ridden with either corruption or incompetence–don’t know which.  Oh, god, that doesn’t sound easy at all. No.  It’ hasn’t been.  But there have been some silver linings and I know that in a few weeks or months I can look back and realize what I’ve learned from these days of struggle.

But I am ready for summer.  Here in the SF Bay Area, we are having a heat wave, causing us to rummage to the back of our closets for sundresses, skirts, and shorts.  I am so happy that summer is coming.

Every year for the last couple of years, my girlfriend and compatriot teacher (fabgirl) has taken me to visit her parents in Nevada and we have gone to Lake Tahoe to float in the cold, cold water on enormous rafts.  With the dome of the blue sky above you, and the water lapping below you, nothing could be more serene.

I am so excited to see Lake Tahoe again this summer.  So glad, fabgirl has a boyfriend now, but hopefully he’ll have to work, or we all three can go.  There’s nothing like floating, mindless, under the arch of that huge sky.  The trees, the scent of pine, the sand.  It’s heaven.

Until you flip off your raft and it’s freezing.  But that’s okay too.  Wakes a person up–and you know I’m in favor of waking up.  In favor or relaxing between wake-ups too.  May those of you in snow enjoy the beauty of it and not be discouraged by it.  These are just thoughts of a wimpy Californian waiting impatiently for summer.

If you need a relaxing image, travel with me to the hot air and cold water, blue sky, and lapping water of being on a raft on Lake Tahoe.  It’s all thanks to fabgirl.

living blind

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FH and I went to get new glasses today.  It seems we are middle aged and can no longer see as clearly as we would like to.  This is a chore I have been putting off, looking in the mirror at my no longer young face, saying to a young woman, “I think these are too square” or “too dark” or “too low” or “too high”.

FH was in a lather today and had to get it done.  I went too.   Why a lather?  We don’t know, a mystery.

It turned out to be an exercise in vanity to some extent.  (Another mystery–why vanity?)  The big frames I wanted were big enough to magnify my crow’s feet…so they were eliminated.  In the end we both worked with different “frame experts” and chose much the same frames as one another. Additionally, our prescriptions are much the same. Has our vision as well as our taste become similar since being married?

Later we ate at a chain restaurant, which we never do, and felt we had entered an altered reality.  Was it an effect of having had our vision checked? Had our perspectives been changed?  Had reality altered?  Were the waiters and waitresses at said chain restaurant wearing enough “flair?”*

I wonder if when my somewhat minor prescription glasses arrive, if I will have a whole new perspective?  Will everything be more clear?  And given that, are there some Boddhisattva or Swami or Jesus glasses I could get, ones that would make all of these mysteries, significant and less so, more clear?

Yes.  They are called rest and relaxation glasses.  Everyone needs them.  Hardly anyone in our culture has them.  They are also called self acceptance and self forgiveness. I wonder where I can buy them and which would look best on my face?

*If you haven’t seen the movie, Office Space, do.

you are beautiful

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Despite not being perfect, with shadows and reflections and a very uneven border, isn’t this a beautiful picture and a beautiful message?

I asked FH today “I wonder how much time I spend wishing I had a flat stomach.”  He said, “Really?” And then he went on to tell me at most of the burlesque shows he’s seen, I would have been the skinniest woman in the room.  Okay.  But still.  We’re talking about self image, not “real image”, right?

So then I was talking to a good friend of mine, a woman, and told her what he’d said and how I was thinking about how much time and energy I spend worrying about being fat.  She laughed bitterly and said, “I know.  My thighs would be okay if they weren’t so bumpy.  The right one’s even bumpier than the left.” She talked about this thigh issue for a while.  We sort of laughed, but it was the kind of laughter where there’s some real pain underneath.  It’s funny because it’s true and it’s sad.  (As an aside–isn’t it strange what we find humorous?)

Finally I said, “I wonder how much time women [and some men] world-wide spend thinking about this, wishing for a ‘more perfect’ body?  It must be so much thought and so much energy.  If we could all stop, and somehow collect that energy, we could probably create world peace!”  We really laughed for a while about that.

But really? Why do we worry so much?  We know all the magazine and billboard images of the female body are airbrushed.  We know the capitalist marketers want us to feel like we’re crap so we’ll buy more stuff.  We know we’re not in our twenties, or even our thirties any more.  We have partners who love us even when we wake up looking like total crud (I’m very thankful for this, and if it’s not yet true for you, dear reader, worry not–he or she will show up!).  So why do we worry?  Why do I worry?  This is something for me to let go of.  I could have a lot more energy if I didn’t waste it on this.

I didn’t take a shower today, didn’t wear makeup, wore yesterday’s clothes, and had a perfectly fine day.  I ate what I wanted.  I didn’t exercise much and didn’t feel guilty about it.  It was just a day in the life of me, as I am.