Swans and Ducklings

Well, it seems I must be connected to something bigger than myself...I thought of the black swan (not my favorite ballet) and one of my favorite bloggers mentioned the same thing. We have not met, but we will. He is in NYC and we are living parallel lives, trying to connect with creativity and softness while shielding ourselves from past hurts, cynicism, sarcasm. No wonder the world needs children: they are the only innocence left. This principle dies a bruised and bloody death.

I became thoroughly nauseous yesterday in this sweltering heat, felt dizzy and went to lie down. One of my coworkers told me to pack it in and go home. So, I did. But first, I went to Macy's. I haven't been in there in 5 years? 10 years? I didn't even remember the floor layout, it's been so long. My mother and I used to live there in the early 1980's. I don't know why, but she had a home furnishings fetish. I smiled when it came to me.

I found myself looking at the winning suit from Project Runway. Nice rosettes, even if they seem like little macaroons. I escalated upward to the sixth floor, lost myself in bedding and went to the rest rooms to splash myself with water. Sweat dripping does not make me feel feminine or even human.

When is the last time I enjoyed shopping for myself? Can I remember? And it's got nothing to do with clothes fitting--hey, that's what alterations are for--it's more about investing in my looks, my presentation, and of course that constant battle with my lack of money. Somewhere in the midst of bills, stress, and my health hell I've lost my sense of picking and choosing lovely things. I also equate shopping with my former friend, who smeared her mafia daddy's money and size 1 figure in my working-class face every Friday. She was tall, thin, manipulative, and didn't have to work. I was (and am) short, fat, funny, and very "workaholic." After a while, I didn't like shopping. I question if I still do. I realize this "Ha Ha Fuck You" association is not exactly congruous with beautifying myself. It's not even sane. She's been out of my life for ten years now. Why am I holding onto this? The more I think about it, I realize I let myself be dragged into shop after shop, fully realizing I could never afford (nor fit into) most of the items she paraded in front of me. Ah, yes, more narcissistic behavior. The bane of my existence. My only satisfaction is knowing Danny, our mutual friend (and my lover, not hers, OH how that killed her), told me how miserable she was (is?) after four children she didn't want or need. Um, adoption? Abortion, maybe? How about birth control? This isn't communist China! You didn't need to have four kids....but I digress.

My point is I got stuck in such a negative association with something that's so real and all around me that I've put myself off to the side. She did it, this job is doing it, and my family did it to some degree. How did I cope yesterday?

I enjoyed going from floor to floor finding little resting spots when I thought I would keel over. Dizziness and nausea is no joke. A bottle of water later, I started to smile. I did go in there for the air conditioning, so I made the best of it. I talked to sales people. I talked to other customers. I was amazed when a shop guy from the Dior section came over and offered me some apricot cream for my hands. I accepted, he slathered, and we laughed. We spoke about sunscreen, fragrance, all the tourists and the importance of looking one's best. How amazing! Me? The Old Navy Coupon Chick? Talking about improving my image? I must be crazy from the heat. Or, maybe it's time.

Time to start investing in me. I'm doing it with the job hunt. I'm trying to destress, relax, take my vitamins and enjoy my least favorite season. No one's put me first, so I guess I must. I think I might have had to all along. Maybe that would relieve the constant anger and send me some relief. Smile, laugh, find the little things to comfort me. Did I need apricot cream up and down my arms? No. But I was calm enough to let someone approach me rather than snarling in my usual Dexter-esque style. That in itself is MAJOR improvement. I have jokes. I have stories. I have a sense of humor. Why not share it? The weather is rotten and people are fed up. So, maybe I'll give someone something to laugh about. In a good way.

Btw, Vera Wang's new fragrance, Princess, is DIVINE. Go to Macy's and spritz away, kiddies!