Dreaming Paris

Those who have been following my blogging history will recall the name from my title. I was born on a Tuesday, and according to the poem, “Tuesday’s child is full of grace.” I learned that poem when I was very young, and it was a source of amusement to me that I was never a very graceful person. I trip, I spill, I run into things. When I delved deeper into Christian things, I understood grace differently and that line became more meaningful to me. It’s silly to allow things that have nothing to do with one at all to become part of one’s framework for developing one’s character but that’s how it is with me. I held grace closely, it was mine, part of who I was because I identified with the Tuesday’s child of the poem.

My name means a pledge, so loyalty, too, defined me. Whatever else I am, or am not, I remain loyal to the people I love. That’s different in my way of thinking than being faithful. A faithful person is the kind who can maintain all the details and niceties of a relationship. They call you up, they remember your birthday, they develop the relationship, they’re mindful of hurting your feelings. I’m afraid that I’m not that person. I can do those things, but they’ll come out of the blue after a long time of nothing because I’ll be thinking of you and want to do something nice because I DO love you. I’m not good at the faithfulness of relationships. But I am loyal in the sense that I will always love you. If you call on me, I’ll be right there. If someone disses you, I’ll defend you. If you get down on yourself I’ll do what I can to lift you up. All because I discovered when I was young that my name means a pledge, so I feel that if I’ve given my friendship or my love, you should be able to count on that as you would someone’s word of honor.

Silly, isn’t it, these notions that we take into our heads? I know that I’ve let people down along the way, even the ones most dear to me. So maybe they don’t see me as I see me. As I get older, though, I’m finding it (somewhat) easier to see myself as I really am, though I still want to hold on to those romantic notions of myself. And as I see myself as I really am, I’m learning to accept me as well, to live according to what I am, not as what I want to be. I don’t always succeed. And sometimes I get confused. But I have to say that I like being in my 50s much better than I thought I would. I feel a freedom I didn’t used to feel. The age isn’t a problem to me. My body is, though.

When I was younger I had this notion that I would be someone who would grow old gracefully. I liked the idea of that. Ha! As I felt age overtaking me I started fighting it tooth and nail, but it can’t be beat, only camouflaged somewhat with dyes and creams.

I got here too fast. And I barely get a chance to get used to one change before another takes place, and unlike in our teen years, these aren’t pleasant changes at all. I still wish I could be someone who could age gracefully, with calm and wisdom, that I could move into this new phase of life with confidence and a chuckle at how seriously I took it all.

Even so, I like where I am. I may whine about the physical things taking place in my body, but this is a good time of my life, quite like no other. It has its ups and downs, its confusions and disappointments, but I’m living it like I’ve never lived before, more fully, more openly, more as myself rather than as someone I thought I was supposed to be. It would be nice, though, if I could have brought my 20 year old body with me to do the living in.

Note: This was originally started as a comment to a blog post by Father Luke, but as it got longer I decided to develop it further and turn it into a blog post of my own.

Haven’t even been very active on FB. But I thought I’d post a health update. I’ve now lost a total of ten pounds since I changed how I eat. I’ve also been incorporating more activity, though still not a regular routine. But I feel better overall. Still have those downer days, but they’re manageable. I think I’ll do even better now that the holidays, along with getting back into the swing of things after the holidays, are over. I did binge a bit during and after, but not so much that I gained anything, which surprised me! I managed to maintain, and then finally begin losing again. So.

I’m teaching 4 classes this semester and keeping busy with house stuff, painting (yes, I’m painting pictures again!), going to French meetups and art events, and the general everyday things that keep one busy. But not so busy that I can’t relax, which is what I’m soaking up.

6 pounds in the last month. It’s not as good as I’d hoped, but I guess the older I get, the more difficult it is for the pounds to come off. Anyway, I’m doing good. No falling off the wagon or even the desire to.

So I got tagged by Paula in a discussion over on Facebook about whether or not online friends are “real” friends. Or whether or not you treat people online like you do the ones in “real” life. I loved it when the term “meatspace” came into being to differentiate between the two groups. You had your online friends and meatspace friends. Who came up with that anyway? Both Nancy and Paula come to mind when I hear that term, as though it was one of them who coined it, but I really don’t know. Maybe they were the first ones I saw use it. They’re both clever enough to have been the originators.

Way, way in the beginning of my online life, when I first dipped my toes in the waters of chat rooms and newsgroups, I was myself, but more so. Meaning, I was very direct and blunt. Until I saw the reactions. When I finally found the newsgroup misc.writing (which is a sad, sad place these days-I just checked 2 days ago), I was a bit more diplomatic. I could mull over my words and delete them before hitting send, something you can’t do when looking someone in the eye. So I’m now actually the reverse of what peeps say you become when you get online. When you’re with me, though I don’t mean to because I like being nice to people, I’m more likely to blurt out something very tactless, or thoughtless, than when you talk to me in text. But in both places I tend to not have much to say for long periods of time, and then suddenly I become motor mouth/fingers.

As for which of my friends are the real ones, the online or the meatspace, well, there is no differentiation. They’re all real if I call them friend. Some of the people I’ve actually met are dear to my heart, while others are just close acquaintances. Same with the people I know online. And actually, some of the people online may not be dear friends in that there is no close, ongoing relationship happening, but many of them are still dear to my heart, probably because I’ve interacted with them for more years than I’ve actually interacted with the people I’ve met. They’re more a part of my life than the ones I get together with from time to time…or year to year…or decade to decade. Because I live a large percentage of my life online, through words, reading them and writing them. It suits me.

I think that right there is why there is even an argument about what’s real and what isn’t. I know that there are many people for whom this online life just wouldn’t suit, and they’re not going to understand how one can feel just as close, and care just as much, for people they’ve never even met than for ones that they have.

I’m a shy person until I begin to feel comfortable in my surroundings or in my role. I’m not outgoing. I’m an introvert. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like being social, or that I don’t want to be with people. But people can tire me out quite easily. So this online world works for me. When I need companionship, I can find it. When I need to feel a part of other people, you’re all right there for me at the touch of my on button. And when I’m tired and want to be alone, I can be. I don’t have to make my excuses and say goodbye.

So, if you all aren’t real, those of you I haven’t met yet, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.

Just wanted to note that since I’ve cut refined sugar and white starches from my life to practically nil, I have been feeling much better and have more energy. The night before last I allowed myself some cookies from a gift from my son’s girlfriend, and I woke up feeling like I had a hangover. Though my scare turned out to be just that, a scare and not an actual problem, I have continued to eat as though it were real because it so easily could be, and that consequence from a very small cookie binge just proved that sugar really is like poison to me. I’m physically happier without it.