This morning in my warehouse, one of my installers said "You look tired" to me. Before I could even respond, the rest of the guys in the immediate vicinity turned towards him and said, in high-pitched unison, "'You look tired' is just another way of saying 'You look like shit.'" Complete with my accent.
So I should probably consider getting a new line.
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I am a subscriber to Gwyneth Paltrow's GOOP newsletter. Why? Because when I grow up, I want to be a Pretentious Fake Brit nourishing my inner element.
Today's installment is of the BE variety, and can be read here. The topic is "Friendship Divorce" and I found it to be another serendipitous confluence amongst many in the past week. A passage that stuck with me:
We may, for example, share in our relationship a subtle agreement that "Life is hard," or that "We are the only ones that understand"; or we may agree to share a common enemy. We may hook up with a high school friend on the Internet and agree to relate to them in the same way we did twenty years ago, even though we've grown up, have a family, and see the world in a completely different way now. Sometimes in relationships, we agree to deny that something unhealthy is going on, such as substance abuse or illness. Sometimes we agree to take on certain roles in a relationship such as being "the boss," "the victim," or "the strong one." And as part of the dynamic we may have an unspoken agreement to take responsibility for the emotional life of another in a way that is crippling for them - that prevents them from finding emotional independence. Such agreements are challenged when one person starts to change and move ahead in life.
And this:
We can't command the heart, of course. We can't pre-screen our friends for potential "forever" status, or impose this expectation as a unilateral requirement. But paradoxically, perhaps, the best way to help all our friendships grow wisely and well is to take responsibility for our own aloneness.
Last night, I had a conversation with one friend about a different friend's reappearance in my life. I found it to be such an odd juxtaposition, to be explaining to a person who has already benefitted from 3rd, 4th, and 5th chances, why another person deserves a 2nd.
Life is weird and complicated, and I won't promise to love you forever. But I promise to love myself forever, to take care of myself, to be comfortable as my own person, so that I am not a burden to you. And if you do the same, I think we'll have many long years together.
And if not, you can always ask me for a do-over. I embrace the mulligan.
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There exists the possibility that I'll be able to get into my new place faster than planned. I'll know for sure on Sunday night.
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This week, years past:
2009: Won a kitchen battle. Lost the war.
2008: Six word memoirs (oh, all night phone calls!! oh!) and a Bonus Day with RunAway. (Again, I'm feeling the urge to change my status to "Duchess Jane is eating testicles in the spirit of being polite." Thanks, Boom.)
2007: Wags and I share priceless childhood memories that also involve gutting deer.
2006: I was nearing the end of my Far Too Many Days in Vegas.




Entries

Mare
02/25/2010 09:54AM
is very solid advice. Not just for friendships but relationships of all kinds with fellow humans.
Jane
02/25/2010 09:56AM
monnik
Homepage
02/25/2010 10:03AM
This is beautiful. It's too bad that we can't be born with this knowledge (think of the heartache it would save in our younger years) but learning concepts like this makes growing older a pleasure.
Jane
02/25/2010 10:11AM
Anonymous
02/25/2010 04:00PM
Jane
02/25/2010 04:15PM
Boom
02/25/2010 05:51PM
Jane
02/25/2010 07:19PM