Off the Clock

I have an announcement to make folks --- Liv Steadman is officially off the clock! That's right, years of worrying that I would soon be 30, soon be 35, soon be 37 --- and needed to meet someone, speed date, get engaged, get married, get pregnant --- all of that is OVER.

I'm pregnant (in an offsite storage facility sort of way), moving into shit-shack turned glam=palace soon, and taking on 40 in rare style.

Does this mean that I'm not interested in men? Absolutely not. But it does mean that I no longer feel the need to weed through jdate, match and my local Starbucks 'in search of' the frog who will turn into the Prince.

I'm sick of looking for Mr. Right. Mr. Right can come and find me --- I'm the girl in the plumbing aisle at Home Depot wearing jeans and an old t-shirt, spending 25 minutes crawling around on the bottom shelf ISO a flair style, satin finish, hall & closet doorknob. Is that as sexy as the 25 year old chick with three coats of make up, high heels and fake boobs at the skank bar down the street? Damn straight Buster. And guess who gives better knob?

40

I haven't spent much time in my life contemplating what I'd be doing at age forty; but if I had, I can tell you it wouldn't have been what was going on in my world this weekend.

Picture this: I threw a party for myself and invited my 15 closest friends from high school, college, and beyond. They traveled far and near to attend and were excited to finally meet each other, see my new home, and ring in a new decade with me.

When I sent out a 'Save the date' two months ago I thought that I would be moved into my new home. Of course I would!!!! Now picture a condo full of construction equipment, paint cans, sawdust and folding metal chairs borrowed from the clubhouse. I like to call it warehouse chic.

Everyone arrived, talked, took the tour, and drank the drinks. And then the Birthday Girl stood up and gave her own toast: To the friends who had been there for her during the tough times - failed relationships, parental separations and illnesses, very short pregnancies, miscarriages, surgeries, heartbreak and disappointment. To better times, a new decade, a new home and ....
a new life.

My gestational carrier arrived with her very pregnant belly and the special guest of the evening --- my daughter!

In a million years I could have never written this script. Never. But Plan B is turning out to be a beautiful story and I cannot wait to write the next chapter.

Labels

I've never considered myself to be the type of person who is worried about what others say and think about me, or a person who is caught up in labels and impressions. But maybe I have been.

I say this because I've spent the past ten years of my life worrying about finding the right guy, getting married, having children, and doing things in the 'right' order. I've finally abandoned that dream and I've realized .... I'm pretty damn happy! And when I look around at my married friends, I realize that I'm happier than many of them.

This is not to say that I don't want to be in a healthy, happy, loving relationship (with great sex). I do. But I must admit that I'm really happy being on my own, doing my own thing, and soon moving into a beautiful new home.

I read an article today called, "Just in time". It described how if you allow yourself to receive what you need, when you need it, you'll find that the world provides all you need and more. I like that theory. And I'll get back to you about whether or not it works.

Eruption

Just days ago I felt that my new home was a shit shack covered in 5 inches of sawdust and it seemed that this project would never end. This weekend I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, and its a bright one. I'm beginning to feel like the construction will be finished, the place will be cleaned, and I will move into this place and be very happy - all within my lifetime. This feels like a metaphor for a lot of things in my life right now.

How interesting that all of this change is occurring just weeks before my 40th birthday.

I feel like I'm walking on the crater bed of a great volcano. So many things are rumbling beneath the ground --- the heat, energy and power are coming to a head. The eruption will be beautiful.

Bad Week

It is fair to say I've had a bad week. I had a fight with my surrogate, wanted to strangle my contractor, and felt that if I ever entered Home Depot again I'd have to torch the place. Yes, this has been a bad week. In fact, I saw That Guy today, and was totally disgusted with the whole thing - stupid, unlikely, annoying. You know, that rant.

An old friend of mine had the misfortune to call me right after the fight with my surrogate, and heard me crying, angry, and in a totally irrational "I'm right and she is wrong" tantrum reminiscent of elementary school. She said to me, "Wow, this must be really hard for you, because you don't take shit from anyone".

This statement set me back a few steps. I really don't take shit from anyone. When people give me shit, I fire them, break up with them, stop being their friend, delete them from my phone or hang up on them. Sometimes, all of the above. And I can't do this with my surrogate. I need her. I don't like being caught by the short hairs.

What does this say about me? Am I a really intolerant person? I don't think so, but what intolerant person thinks they are intolerant? Probably damn few. Is this why I'm single at almost 40? Perhaps.

An ex of mine used to say that when his friend got married, he and his wife would have huge fights and she would storm out of the house with her purse and stand on the porch. Eventually, she would get cold and come inside. He was trying to tell me that I just had to put up with his shit and that is the way that relationships work. I informed him that I don't carry a purse, but do own a car.

I'm not saying that I fire, break up with, delete or hang up on people without giving it the full college try. I really think I do. But when people don't show me the respect and consideration I try to show them, it really pisses me off. And boy, does it translate into a bad week.

Dream weaver

I'm not the type of person who has recurring dreams. In fact, I don't usually sleep long enough, or deep enough, to have dreams. Then why, I ask you, have I been having dream after dream after dream about the same thing ....

That Guy.

You know, That Guy who really blows my skirt up And has for 10 years. But is married. And therefore off limits. As in: no way, no how. That Guy.

I'm not the kind of girl who would ever consider having a thing with a married guy. Ever. And that is not even up for consideration anyway. I don't even see this person very often. And really, I barely know him. And he probably doesn't even know I exist.

Right?

Okay then, why in the hell do I keep having dreams about That Guy? And why are they so realistic? And why do I remember them so vividly? And why do I deep down think this really means something?

It's unrealistic. It's ridiculous. It's totally stupid. It's unscientific. It's annoying. And yet, it keeps happening.

And shit -- I really do believe it means something.

Destiny, schmestiny

Do you believe in destiny? That life is written, and that we are little rats just following the maze called life that is neatly laid out in front of us? or do you believe that we have the ability to intervene and change our lives?

What do I think? At this point, I have no freakin' idea.

My horoscope today reads: "One often meets one's destiny on the road taken to avoid it," Sometimes, in fact, you can't even get properly aligned with your highest potential unless you try to escape it. Only by seeking an alternate route are you led into the circumstances that ultimately activate the fullness of your gifts. These mysteries will soon have personal meaning for you, Taurus. Upcoming plot twists will lead you to where you didn't even know you needed to go.

Again, no idea what this means. But haven't I had enough plot twists in the past two years???

The one thing I know for sure is that just when I'm set on the way IT WILL BE, and have a hard and fast death grip on that particular outcome, I often have to come to grips with the fact that it will not happen in that way. I fight it for at least a few years, hard and fast. But then I usually concede, grieve the lost dream, and move on. It is just at that moment that whatever I wanted in the first place sometimes comes around. The irony is that by this time I'm not even sure its what I want anymore.