Thursday, April 22, 2010

yesterday's pigtails...

On Wednesday, I think I noticed everything. Everything had been brushed with a highlighter like lines in a play.

I’ve been trying to take a walk every morning. Yes, it would be nice to be ten pounds slimmer for bathing suit season but really it’s more for my mood and productivity. I walk about two miles and then I’ve been swinging on our swing set in the back yard. I listen to Pandora and generally have it on R&B funk. I find this extremely helpful with my day overall.

On Wednesday’s walk, Pandora and I started out with James Brown and then hit a good number of songs from The Big Chill. Notably, this was my first love’s ‘theme’ album with his senior year classmates. I never got exactly why these 17-year old kids were fascinated with The Big Chill but I was only 15 and accepted the fate of a Sophomore dating a Senior. I just didn’t get it. I did appreciate the break from Hank Jr., when The Big Chill would have its turn in the tape deck. Welcome to rural Kentucky.

Listening to those songs made me feel a bit melancholy. It’s been 21 years since that boy. First love and after shocks, and The Big Chill or how I began Wednesday and where does it go from here?

Disclaimer: I really do not like to be labeled.

However, I am labeled as a single mom. That’s cool. I own it. I don’t feel weird about being single. My marriage wasn’t horrible but it wasn’t what either of us needed. I feel much better being single than I do having been married. So I’m the single mom and it’s easier than it was before. Okay, okay, okay.

I do and have done a lot of work that is put in front of people. For this reason, a gal who I’m currently working with, nominated me for some top singles thing for the rag she works for. She made it clear that it was not a matchmaking thing and that it would be a good way to have a profile in a popular local magazine and I could promote some of this work with it. Fair enough. It still makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like being labeled and there seems to be some stigma associated as being labeled single. Being publicly single, is just a bit weird. I do need all the help I can get with these freelance projects and all press is good press so I agreed to do it.

Wednesday I have my picture made as a top single. Yep. I meet the photographer and art director at the appointed time and we head to the Sunsphere to take some shots with a nice background. All is going well. No one is around and it’s a comfortable shoot. All good. I turn around and there’s my ex-husband. Just what you want to happen at a print shoot for top singles. He’s with his best friend. Just a point of interest ~ his best friend used to own this magazine and my ex started it for him. I dodge the question about what I’m doing and start blabbing about anything to change the subject about why I have this makeup on and why I’m in a dress and not the typical overalls or skirt and t-shirt. As they get into the elevator, I’m asked the question again. I’m a bad liar. I tell it. The elevator door shuts to two a-holes smirking. I had to eat a chilidog after that.

Later that day, I had an event to start some buzz about the biscuit festival. It was going well but I had to catch up with my daughters who had a play date with a friend and her daughter. They were kicking up dust on Market Square. I make my way out the door and run into my divorce attorney. I really like her but it was just the kind of day that made me think of her as my divorce attorney and not just some awesome gal.

I head to meet my girls, their friends and my friends. All good. My friend’s neighbor is with her and he has a little baby about a year old. Everyone’s having fun. I feel exhausted. It’s just been a lot of a day. Downtown is happening and folks are wandering up and we are all being introduced at different times. At one particular moment, I’m sitting by the single dad neighbor who also happens to share my last name. We are being introduced and it sounds like I’m married to this Hubbard man who I just met. I have never had that experience before. Even when I was married, I didn’t take my ex-husband’s name.

It was an interesting sensation. For a brief second, in the eyes of this stranger that was learning our names, I was a part of something and I didn’t have to give up something else.

This morning I woke up to find both girls had made their way into my bed. One of the cats is curled up on my pillow biting my head. I rouse the village, feed everyone, and take the girls to school. In my youngest’s classroom, they are giving away the pets. The school is closing next month and homes are being sought. I’m easily suckered into taking this creepy quick algae eating fish and 7 snails. They can live with our frog and male Beta fish. Easy.

I get home and release the additions to the aquarium, find Pandora and walk.

I’m still in yesterday’s pigtails.

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