Chapter Fifty One; Crank up the Beastie Boys! Life is Good.

Damn it.

I am in a good mood

The morning sun is shining, I have a Grande Starbucks skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte (with whip, life is better with the whip) in my hand as I cruise into work, and the start of a gorgeous summer day is pouring onto my head through my open sun roof.

I am listening to a cd a friend of mine made for me and I just start laughing out loud. What the? Is this the Beastie Boys? Yep. Good grief!

Why did he think I would even/ever want to listen to the Beastie Boys?

But I crank it up anyway. Some song about a booty.

I laugh out loud it is so ridiculous, take advantage of the fact I own a foreign-made sports car, and drive a little faster.

Just because.

All things considered, I should not be so giddy.

This year has sucked.

Hello? Divorce.

Kind of a bummer.

I should be crabbier.

Sadder.

And some days I am. But on this beautiful day, my rebellious nature gets the best of me and I say screw sadness.

I’m smiling.

I mean, after all, if I want to start pointing out the suck ass parts of my life, I am at no loss for creating that list.

In fact, it isn’t even so much about where to begin, it is more about where does it end.

Oh, you don't believe me?

Well then. Let me start by illustrating my top three crap things I oh so deserve and am oh so entitled to whine about this past year:

• I asked my husband for a divorce last summer and he got over me in about .00075 seconds. Nice.

• I figure, well, I'll move on too. So I start running around like a nut and accidentally fall for someone in the process. But that didn't work out. I was disappointed and slightly heartbroken when it went nowhere. (Oh, so you want to question my adverb choice? Forget it. It's intentional. I am sticking with the downplaying approach. I stand behind my “slightly.” I realize it is kind of like you can’t be “a little” pregnant. Cut me some slack, if he reads this blog I want to give the impression I am fine. Even this blogging blonde has her dignity. But let's move on with the whining, shall we?)

• And finally, I am young but I have a teenage daughter. I am coming to the realization this pretty much makes me "un-dateable” for guys my age. Not many guys my age are interested in dating a woman whose daughter wears the same size she does. Jeans and bra. It just weirds them out to no end.

So those are my top three “Topics I like to bitch and moan about the most whenever I decide to throw a Pity Party.”

And yes, I have let all of the above get me down. But at this precise moment they don't seem like something worth fretting TOO much about.

Because really:

• My ex husband is a great dad. I won't complain. He sees our kids every day. He's on a business trip this week and it is practically killing me that I don't have his help. He’s really great in that department.

• Yeah, boo hoo about my first trip into Dating Land. I am just out of practice when it comes to matters of the heart. Totally, absolutely, completely. I am not in denial there. I really REALLY suck at this. He was a nice guy. Just because we didn't run off into the sunset I am going to try not to pout about it too much, or too long. I believe there is some sea out there with more fish in it? So I hear? Someone hand me a pole. (Fishing, not stripping. It's a metaphor. What kind of bait do you think I plan on using?)

• Yes, I have children. One of whom is more woman than child. (Hey, I started young. I have energy to mother them and it rocks!) I am sure there is some guy out there who someday who will be ecstatic to get a glimpse of our little estrogen charged world: a place where no road trip is complete without Hannah Montana’s latest cd, pedicures rank right up there with food and breathing (yes, I have the 7 year old brain washed already!), and chocolate is considered a vital food group.

So on this day I resolve to cease with the complaining and pseudo suffering.

As long as the summer sun decides to shine once in a while, Starbucks keeps cranking out over-priced happiness in a cup,and the Beastie Boys rap about a booty on my Bose, then I will continue to make every effort to turn life’s junk circumstances inside out.

And choose for myself the best kind of mood that I can.

A good one.
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Hey "Kris" . . . thanks for the cd! Even when you're in China you continue to infuse my life with "cool weirdness." And oh, hope that hunt for my rice bucket is going well! Later calculator.