Left at the Table

Response to prompt #45: Obsessions

I made a list. I thought a lot about this. I have a recent sugar addiction to a disgusting candy call Sweet Tart Ropes, I've been having some preoccupying thoughts about my current work situation and some of the changes happening at my job. I also think I have a thinking obsession. See what I did there? My brain seems to be churning all the time, a sign to me I need to get back to yoga and mediation practice. As I started this prompt I did a little word association. I wondered how obsession, preoccupation, and addiction were similar and distinguished from one another. As you might assume, addiction is more of a habit. Preoccupation and obsession are more about thought. Preoccupation, to be completely engrossed in thought, doesn't sound as extreme as obsession which is to have one's thoughts "dominated" by a feeling or persistent idea. This made the subject of my writing clear to me, and it came out as a sort of stream of consciousness... poem, I guess?

Left at the Table

waking thoughts and nagging insomnia-causing concerns

wasted hours of worry, intrusive thoughts fought off by to-do lists and job related tasks 

but they're back- it's a bathroom break with no directed thoughts or pen holding or key stroking

no phone call or reading material or Skype screen

a wandering mind traveling in time trying to predict the future 

or at least begging for a glimpse of what's to come in his life

a brief lunchtime distraction bringing obsession face to face as he sits in front of me

worry translates to conversation for a brief sense of calm as he listens

I listen until it's over and my mind is the only one left at the table

The Things that Bind Me

So many things to obsess over, so little time. In an effort to dig deep and not write about things I have hit up in the past (mostly weight, a spic and span house, and the pursuit of perfection where it does not exist), I decided on something that I hope you find amusing--even if odd.

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My current obsession has sent me on many internet searches and scavenger hunts in the undergarment sections of my favorite stores like T.J. Maxx and Marshall's.  In my youth, I would have made fun of a person who needed to wear what I am looking for: the perfect body shaper--one that cinches my waist, smooths out my saddlebags, shrinks my thighs,  lifts my ass, and flattens my lumpy tummy (or shall I say tummies?), all while not letting any loose flesh squirt out of the sides and top and bottom. Oh, and it must not make that whooshing sound when I walk. Seriously, it's like announcing to the world: "Hey, world, I'm sporting one of the those sexy biker short looking undergarments, and my thighs are still rubbing!" I'm also slightly fearful that the friction may start a small fire. 

Recently, I've decided not to worry about my thighs as much and try to find something that gives me back those hourglass curves that have somehow morphed into a more oompa loompa shape as of late. This has resulted in the purchase of shapers that resemble one-piece swimsuits and odd things that come right up to my bra line, but tend to roll down every time I bend down. Anything lower results in that muffin-top explosion, all clearly visible under the dresses and tops I plan to wear on vacation. 

Short of going all 19th Century and somehow finding a whalebone corset (Amazon may very well have one of these in stock), I think my best bet is sticking with the bathing suit shaped shapers. I can actually forgo my bra with these--they actually have decent support after I stuff in wayward side boob. The only problem is, I still look like a jelly bean with no definable waist, but at least all the lumps and bumps are smoothed out.

I used to hate my ass and hips. They were always the biggest parts of me. My waist was teeny tiny, as was my chest. Now, I am embracing my butt as one of my better features. I'm just hoping it gets enough attention to divert it from my midsection.

Here's the bottom line (or should I say middle line): There is no amount of lycra or rubber or metal bars that can contain all that my womanly shape has become, no one garment that will undo some less than stellar eating and exercising habits and the symptoms of pre-menopause. I guess I could wear one of everything, but I'm a sweater who is also obsessed with not smelling like B.O. But, that's for another post. 

Constant Craving

My response to Obsession prompt

I do not think of myself as an obsessive person.  When I first read the prompt, I thought about the things that are mandatory in my life (beyond people.) The answer: writing, music, and chocolate.
My plan was to write about my lifelong "obsession" with writing.  But, is it an obsession, or just who I am? I struggled with that.

So I looked up the definition of obsession, and the word "preoccupy" caught my eye.  And then I knew that, yes, I am preoccupied right now with something.

Sanders Dark Chocolate Sea Salt Caramels

I first found these around Christmas 2016 at Costco. I went through a couple of containers, they no longer stocked them, and I forgot about them.

Then around Easter 2018, I found them again.  And that is when I got hooked. I couldn't get enough. Every day I looked forward to enjoying one, two, or three -- depending on my mood -- and I do not know how many containers I went through. They last a long time, even when I eat them every day.

These caramels are thick and chewy, covered in the most luscious dark chocolate and huge hunks of sea salt. There is simply nothing else that compares. The density of the caramel and chocolate are to my liking -- enough to cause obsession, yes.

And I am preoccupied because I cannot find them at Costco right now.  I ran out in September, and they do not have them in stock.  I thought with Christmas holidays they would bring them back, but no.  I am thinking I will have to wait until Easter.

Talking about this to a young man at Costco, he told me that there is an asterisk on the sign when the item is going to unstocked for a while.  He assured me they would be back.

So I wait.  And crave.  And obsess. And dream I will walk in the store and there they will be.  And try to find something like them. There is nothing that I have found.

I have discovered these objects of my desire are available on Amazon, but I know better than to have chocolate shipped to Florida during these hot months.  I have had enough well-meaning relatives trying to send me delicious Malley's chocolates from Ohio to know that all I will get is a big globby mess. It's really tempting, but I am resisting.

I live with this obsession for now.  If we have a cold snap, I may have to give the Amazon Prime shipping a try.  It will be risky, but it is better than living with this constant craving.

Prompt #45: Obsessions

The 1980's brought the term obsession front and center. Whether we were singing along with the Animotion tune on MTV or becoming entranced by the creepy Clavin Klein perfume ads, obsessions became a part of the 1980's vernacular. Not hard to believe the "Me Generation" would see obsessions as complimentary, but in 1990 California became the first state to criminalize stalking- the creepiest crime of obsessive behavior. And soon we would begin hearing a lot more about OCD or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

But while not all obsessions are complimentary, neither are they all harmful. Natalie Goldberg offers to us the suggestion of listing our obsessions once in a while. Some obsessions change and there are always more, she says. Some are thankfully forgotten.

Writers end up writing about their obsessions. Things that haunt them; things they can't forget; stories they carry in their bodies waiting to be released. She asks her writing students to make lists of their obsessions. This way they can see what they spend their time thinking about consciously and unconsciously.

After you write them down you can put them to good use. You have a list of things to write about. And your main obsessions have power; they are what you will come back to in your writing over and over again... They probably take over your life whether you want them to or not, so you ought to get them to work for you. (p. 49)

For this month's prompt, start with some pre-writing utilizing Goldberg's exercise of making a list of your obsessions. Go beyond things you "really like" and get to those things you always think about. Do as she says and put those obsessions to work!

Write an essay, a poem, a character sketch using one of your obsessions, or create a story with a character who adopts your obsession. Make it work for you however you want. Write what you want... give into the obsession.

Here's one of those creepy Calvin Klein ads to get you in the mood. Enjoy...

Reference: Writing Down the Bones; Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg

Childhood Thriller

Response to Prompt #44: Star Quality

I've struggled with this a bit. I generally don't imagine meeting people who are famous, or even wish I could, really. Maybe it's because I prefer to think of them as these legends in my mind; performers, achievers, geniuses. maybe meeting them or speaking with them would be a let down. I know that's not particularly fair. But I heard from some people who met him and a family member who worked with "his people," and many say James Taylor is a total asshole. Ahh! Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love attending live concerts, going to the theater, and listening to a reader or speaker. I just can't wrap my brain around sitting face to face with someone I think of as celebrity. My husband says I'm too logical, that I can't suspend disbelief. He accuses me of this when we watch outlandish movies with special effects or wild stories. Maybe he's right.

But I want to try, and I think I decided on a celebrity I would like to think about meeting. Understand, he's no longer alive so I know this isn't even possible. But here it goes...

I was about ten years old when the song "Billie Jean" came out. I was drawn into the music right away. "Beat It" soon followed, and of course "Thriller." The entire album was genius, as was the slew of music videos that came with it. Michael Jackson and the Thriller album were made for the MTV generation. The songs were great for dancing, and if you weren't into dancing yourself you were plenty content to watch MJ float on air. The pelvic thrusts, the glitter gloved flick of the wrist, and of course the moonwalk all contributed to the "King of Pop" persona.

Thriller was chick full of perfectly crafted hits. I know every word of 7 of the 9 songs. I can think of very specific moments of my childhood to match each one. I remember "Wanna be Startin' Somethin'" was the most popular hit in the jukebox my parents rented for my sister's Bat-Mitzvah that year. I remember one of my favorite camp counselors Karen Cingiser or Randy Gold-something singing the song "Human Nature," and I remember all us PYT's repeating after MJ, "Nah-na-nah, nah-na-nah." Most powerfully, I remember countless afternoons when we got out of school or Saturday mornings during sleepovers, singing and dancing the whole album with my best friend Gillian. She had a wide open "great room" before that was even a thing (at least as far as I know). We swore we were the biggest MJ fans out there (from some of the crazy shit I later saw on TV, I now know this to be untrue).

A little later came "Say, Say, Say," the duet with Paul McCartney that produced one of my favorite music videos. The song kind of makes me sad now, as does "The Girl is Mine," which was the first release off the Thriller album. The legend was that Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney were really great friends and all of that went awry when MJ outbid PM for the Beatles catalog.

Anyway, I continued to listen to Michael Jackson into middle and high school, as he pushed out additional albums. I never loved any of them as much as Thriller, but I remember a competition cheerleading dance in high school with parts of "Smooth Criminal," Weird Al's "Fat" that parodied "Bad," and the two soft songs "Man in the Mirror" and "I Just Can't Stop Loving You." These were all great songs, but my favorite off the Bad album, and one I still love today is "The Way You Make Me Feel." It came with another epic music video with Michael Jackson chasing after a beautiful woman I had never seen before. There were other songs too, but most notably, "Black or White" which was a jammy little tune with embedded wrap and another cool video with computer morphing singers of all different ethnicities and of course, Macaulay Culkin.

Sometime in the 90's things went really south. There were controversies over his skin color and possible pigmentation disorder, marriages, divorces, children. I still can't get over the fact he has a child whose name is actually Blanket. That's just weird. The worst of everything was the allegation of  child molestation. I wanted so badly to believe this was not possible from him. I don't know if these horrible things are true. I do know that if nothing else, MJ's behavior was wildly odd. However, I also  think the star-struck unorthodox behavior of those who seemed okay enough with his celebrity to allow their children to "hang out" with a grown man as though he was playmate is strange too. That being said, no behavior no matter how strange, authorizes a grown man to molest children. The sad thing is, we'll never know the truth. The parties involved will never be completely truthful because there is so much money involved, and Jackson paid the highest price of any for all his physical and psychological problems.

It's all very sad. And it's all unclear. I suppose if he was alive and I had the occasion to meet with him, I would just want to know everything. Instead, I know only one thing. Michael Jackson was talented and his music was magical. For this child, the radio and TV version were just enough.

Photo Credit: USA Today

Gloria Hallelujah

by Helen Sadler

October 6, 2018

Answer to Prompt #44 Star Quality

I’m not sure when I first became aware of Gloria Steinem.  I’m sure it was some photo of her with her long hair nearly covering her face, save the aviator glasses that emphasized her fervent eyes and serious demeanor. She was speaking out. She wasn’t playing around. She wasn’t like anyone I knew.  Frankly, she scared me.

I was the “go along” girl – never asking questions, keeping myself as good as any Catholic school girl could hope to be, living in a heavily male household.  The Women’s Liberation Movement happened around us, and I had no idea how to understand it. So, given what I knew, I largely rejected it. After all, it was showing up in really strange ways. My favorite example comes from the summer of 1970 when I was out on a date with a guy (a real chauvinist) who needed to stop for gas. This was back in the day when no one pumped his own gas. Well, out of the station comes a girl in hot pants and long blonde hair, ready to fill the tank. My date wasn’t having it: he got out and pumped it himself.  This, of course, was in the very early days when everyone thought the women were just on the rag, and it would all go away soon.

But Gloria wasn’t going away. She started Ms Magazine (as the term “Ms” was still being debated), rejected advertising, and created a publishing revolution as she wrote about the true injustices to women. Among them: having to pay higher car insurance if divorced, having to get a husband’s permission for a bank account or credit card in her name, being held suspect if walking into a restaurant alone, and worst of all, the lack of term for domestic abuse. It was just “life.”

One of the things I remember most is that Gloria often repeated the feminist adage, “The personal is political.”  I would read that, but was totally clueless as to what it really meant.  She said it so often, though, it stuck with me.

Gloria and her sister writers started opening my eyes to all sorts of injustices, but let me be clear: this wasn’t until after I had gotten engaged and married against my own better judgment. I simply did not know how to listen to myself. I had “gone along” because the guy I was dating said we should, not because I really wanted to be married to him. I cringe when I think about it, but there it is.

I was a young woman who had no idea how to listen to my own truth. Even if I somehow acknowledged the truth I felt, I would not trust it.

I started reading Ms in the early 80’s, and continued thinking about these issues.  On my bookshelf this morning I found Gloria’s book Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions, inscribed by Jim as a Christmas gift to me in 1983.  This book contains many of her most famous essays: “I Was a Playboy Bunny” (costumes so tight a girl’s legs would go numb, and if she sneezed the zipper would break); “In Praise of Women’s Bodies” (the first time I heard anyone say we are okay in any form we take, instead of the shaming messages previously received); “Ruth’s Song (Because She Could Not Sing It)” a lovely tribute to her mentally ill mother; “Marilyn Monroe: The Woman Who Died Too Soon” (a somber tribute to a woman who longed to be treated seriously); and one of my all time favorites: “If Men Could Menstruate.”  Here’s the thing – I read these over thirty years ago and I still remember them by the title. That is how vital and strong and compelling Gloria’s perspective was to me.  

Ms eventually lost funding, and I moved on in my life. But in 1993, Gloria published another book that got a lot of attention: Revolution from Within: A Book of Self-Esteem.  It was written when Gloria realized she had been living her life on the outside, working for outer change, and never considering inner change. Her friends joked, “An examined life is not worth living.” But Gloria began to question, and went on a search for a book on self-esteem that was written for both men and women. Since there was none, she had to write her own. The cover showed a vibrant woman with shorter hair and sans glasses.  In the book she acknowledges she had been hiding behind them all those years.

I recall well that I was reading this book in July 1993 when Jim’s back blew out, causing a disability and a drastic change in our financial life. I believe many things in this wise and wonderful book helped keep me balanced through a time that was full of uncertainty and fear. I think she helped ground me in myself, and my own confidence, to make it through anything.

Even more importantly, she speaks quite a bit in the book on how we all need to make changes, males and females. I had a sticky note on this page, although I’m not 100% sure why, but her message here seems so timely in 2018:

In Revolution she also turns around the phrase I mentioned above to “The political is personal.”  From the Parkland kids to the #MeToo movement to recent hearings on Capitol Hill, this is obvious. We must not forget.

***

I am not one to live with regrets, but I do have one that niggles in the back of my heart.  In 1995, Gloria was making an appearance at a local Borders Bookstore event. My friend Diane asked me to go, but for some reason I declined.  I still regret that I didn’t make time for Gloria, to hear her wise words in person, and perhaps meet her. If I had the chance today, I would probably not be able to choke out more than a “thank you for helping me understand.”

At the end of Revolution From Within, Gloria writes:

            We are so many selves. It’s not just the long-ago child within us who needs tenderness and inclusion, but the person we were last year, wanted to be yesterday, tried to become in one job or in one winter, in one love affair or in one house where even now, we can close our eyes and smell the rooms.

            What brings together these ever-shifting selves of infinite reactions and returnings is this: There is always one true inner voice.

            Trust it.

The Merchant of Soul

My response to prompt #44, Star Quality.

I don't know when I first fell in love with Natalie Merchant--my memory can't retrieve the when and where of hearing her for the first time and connecting with her lyrics. I don't think it was in my formative years in the 80's--I don't even remember 10,000 Maniacs coming on the radio, probably because I wasn't listening to the right station. If I had to guess, it would be in the late 90's when her solo stuff hit the airways.

I do know this: her lyrics just resonate with me, her voice lulls me in. It's a connection I can't explain and don't necessarily want to. I'm just glad it's there. Here's my imaginary conversation with her, helped out with this article from the New York Times.

Me: How do you do it--write lyrics that just cut through all the bullshit and grab right at all the raw emotions in me, all with that non-threatening, soothing voice?

Natalie: It's all just a happy accident, Annmarie. I just write what I'm feeling and hope it connects with some people. There's no way I'm gonna pen the crap some of the pop stars do. I want my music to speak to something, mean something, make people think. I want it to be real, like if you listen to me sing, you know me.

Me: Mission accomplished, at least for me. Except I can't figure out something: Do you consider yourself an optimist or pessimist? I can't really tell where you land.

Natalie: Here's the thing--I go from one to the other, and I'm not afraid to show it. This world is just so much. We are ruining our earth, ruining each other with our hateful attitude. But, then, there are people who amaze me. I want to make sure they get some kudos. I'm also noticing I'm getting more melancholy, more dark as I age. It kinda sucks; I really want to be a happy-go-lucky kind of person, but how can you in this world?

Me: I feel ya. I've been going through the same kind of funk these days. Incidentally, some of your music has given me a fresh perspective and some hope in a world that makes me want to scream, "What the fuck?"

Natalie: Really? I do that for you?

Me: Yep. Every time.

Natalie: You're so kind and generous. Thanks for that.

Me: Thank YOU. And keep it real. It inspires me to do the same.

Natalie: Will do. Peace out, girl scout.

And with that, my admiration just grew. She is right up there with Maya these days.