Thursday, January 10, 2008

Not a Crisis, More a Change of Venue

First---thank you so much for the King Cake/Rosca de Reyes compliments. It did come out much yummier than I thought it would...see, it's not a recipe from mom, or Mexico, but from one of those 1960s Americana "Mexican Food" cookbooks that insist such things as "cumin" making any food instantly Mexican.

Also, as I decided I really was done after the 6th; there was no marble, baby, lima bean or porcelain anything either baked in or added in later. First because I did not have any of the above on hand, and second...cuz I am lazy like that, and third? Well, as J had to work, T was in the process of moving, L&L still in the bay was just Andy and I. No real need to make one or the other plan a party for Candlemass/2/2.

On with the title!

I may have spoken about this before, especially in my more freaked out extra long posts at the beginning of this blog/therapy. But I bring it up again as my conversation with an older generation brought it up to the forefront again...the idea of the ye olde' mid-life crisis.

I told him that for the generation I'm a part of, especially those with no kids and tenuous connections with familia? We've already had mini-ones and will probably have lots of mini-crises/changes of venue over the ONE, BIG, MID-LIFE shenanigan.

Hi, I took off to Mexico on a 32' sailboat when I was 26. People (mostly those outside of the sailing community and/or around my age) either thought I was insane or the coolest thing since jello-shots. A friend from college up and moved clear across the country to become a security guard in New York City about the same time. More recently, well, my X did a 180 as to who he thought he should be, and friends of mine have been dropping off the face of the planet cuz they're off doing their own thing and no longer want to be burdened with such things as memories of what their old selves used to be. The latest--my roomie from college is taking off later this month to move to Istanbul for a year or so!

I was feeling very sorry for myself late last year when I realized I don't know where the hell anyone is anymore and what they are up of the reasons I gave up on the xmas cards. I had to stop and reevaluate. I really reevaluated after hearing about Istanbul and then having my defensive crisis conversation. (The gist being that his generation did it the right way, waiting until a decent age to go buy their Ferrari's or whatever.)

My mom calls it "going a little crazy." She reserves that right of mini-insanity only for the men-folk, though. It doesn't happen to women, or something. I think she's dead wrong there. It happens to all of us at varying times. If we do the math and chronology of her generation, of how old you were supposed to be when stuff is/was usually happening, women were pretty much married and having babies in their 20s and 30s and didn't have TIME to freak out...or maybe they did...hi, remember the Valium craze? But couldn't do anything about it. Or if they did it was rare...

By the time it got to us, um, how many kids did you know where mommy and daddy weren't together anymore? The times they were a-changing.

It's still shocking to hear the plans and plottings of people after the decision has been made, especially when I'm no longer a part of their everyday happenings (you'd think you'd have a clue that way, especially if you're I dunno, living with them, or, say married to me on this one, if they are planning on you NOT being a part of their "new" life, you won't know).

At the same time, should I find it shocking? Hi, I did it to them. Though I did have the sailboat for a while...I guess the idea of pulling up anchor and leaving the country wasn't entirely IMpossible, just maybe not what everyone was expecting.

Some people (my mom) think maybe I'm still in my "crisis" (or as I like to call it, "change of venue--it would explain the constant moving. ") Or maybe I started another one on top of the first one? I mean, in a sense I kinda gave the impression of settling down by buying a house and teaching on the Big Island of Hawai'i and that's all normal and non-crazy, even with the boat in the front yard; yes the 32' boat in the front yard, yes, that was me, on Kinoole ST.

When the divorce and the move and all that noise came up, she was not prepared (well, hi, neither was I, I was still in "save up to get the hell out of Hawai'i and on to New Zealand change of venue mode.") And now, flitting around the west coast of the US, am I done? Am I finally ready to stop and settle down again? Maybe just for a little while/i.e. until my retirement fund vests? Who knows. Nothing is set in concrete. Besides, even if I am, there's always a next time later...

Anyhow, if you're reading?





Bezzie said...

Ha ha, yeah, I remember my parents still being married being an oddity in grade school.

I love the life of a nomad. We've been here not even a year and the kid's already asking when we're moving again...

Beth said...

I think moms can be programmed to worry about us no matter what. And as far as the mid-life crisis thing...I'm coping by not thinking about my age. But every once in a while, my age smacks me in the face. It's depressing.