Crazy About Grapes

I want to be Ernie. But I am Burt. I don't want to be Monk anymore, I want to be Sharona for awhile. I want to be creative and playful and carefree. But I am anxious, nervous and neurotic. I want to be the artsy free-spirited girl in the movies. The Bohemian sexy earthy gypsy type. The one with the great tattoo that bakes organic food. But I hate to travel, always take a can of Lysol or disinfectant wipes, I don't do body fluids and if I am going to sleep in a strange bed I will bring my own sheets and pillow. I love the set design of multi colored apartment walls with all the colored glass, mismatched dishes & windchimes and Christmas lights strung across the living room. But I need all my walls to be all the same color, all my plates & towels and linens to be white, matching & smelling of bleach. The noise from the chimes would make me nuts & I would be too afraid of an electrical fire to ever leave the Christmas lights on. The worst part about this is the fact that in order to function well, I NEED my ducks to be in a row, everything in order, the home of my childhood. That's how I grew up, everything immaculate. Except for the four foot diameter cloud of chaos that followed me, like Pigpen on Charlie Brown. When I walk into a room it falls apart. I have such severe ADD that I am unable to organize or finish anything. I am a messy slob. It is exhausting being me. So I live in this perpetual state of nervousness and confusion aggravated by the need & inability to have my surroundings in a orderly & serene state. I am Howard Hughes's mind trapped inside Homer Simpson's body. What I need is a maid. Or a mom. Or a wife. My oldest kids and I can often be overheard saying 4 little words to each other, "What are you DOING?!" It goes like this. Sometimes I will wander into a room and either Pierre or Tallulah are scurrying about, MOVING things & I get freaked out and I scream, "WHAT are you DOING?!" to which they always reply, " It is called 'cleaning' Mother." Oh, right. I knew that. Carry on. Or Tallulah walks into the kitchen to see me sloshing the contents of some bottle of chemical all over the floor and then running through it scooting a wad of paper towels with my feet and she says to me, "Mother, WHAT are you DOING?" To which I give an indignant snort and say with confidence, "I am CLEANING." To which she replies, "Um. No you're not. " Apparently the only thing I will ever be truly good at is being crazy. But I think we have established that. I would like to be able to pick up any old liquid hand soap at any old store....but it has to be Jergens cherry almond scent in the white bottle. What I REALLY want is to be the lady who doesn't wash the grapes. My friend (you know who you are) who waltzes into the party, throws down a bag of grapes on the counter and goes off to have a good time. As soon as she is out of the room, I am not only washing the grapes, I am washing each grape wishing they could all be the same size and thinking to myself, 'Is she CRAZY!? Not only does she not wash the grapes, she buys grapes from CHILE! Which everyone knows that in the 60's we sold all our DDT to South America who still uses it liberally so these grapes are saturated with pesticides and toxins but at least they aren't from Mexico, so I don't have to worry so much about the hepatitis...' I am now interrupted by children at the party asking , "Miss. T, may we have some grapes now?" To which I patiently reply, "Like Hell you will have some grapes!! Have you washed your hands, did you touch that grape, do NOT put that in your mouth, EVERYBODY in the bathroom, now!" So, as you can see, I would really like very much to be the lady who DOESN'T have to wash the grapes. I want to relax and start enjoying life again. I don't want to think anymore. I would like to drink water....from the tap. I would like to eat a bowl of Froot Loops without knowing what trisodium phosphate is. Or throw caution to the wind & actually go barefooted in my own house. I would like to share a bowl of popcorn with company (you know, where everyone puts their hands in the same bowl, oh god) & not have to lysol all the doorknobs when they leave. I want satellite television, but Gaston says nuh-uh, no way. He wants us to be Intellectual. I am thinking reading MORE might not be what I need. I think I need to watch some Gilligan. No problem for him, this is the man who can walk into the kitchen, pick up any cup at random and drink from it. His whole family does that. My mother never let a cup touch the counter & preferred her grandchildren to call her Mrs. Richardson, so you see my dilemma. This week's assignment to myself is as follows. I have to buy a bag of grapes (from Chile of course) bring them home and not wash them and try to eat them. From my own bowl. I will attempt to do this barefooted. But that doesn't include actual walking, just sitting. I am never gonna be the lady who doesn't wash the grapes, am I?

Not So Simple

Okay, here is an update on My Year of Simple Living. Who am I kidding? This sucks. I am bored out of my mind. I am so tired of THINKING about everything and I miss SO many things! I miss Walmart, the cashier that wears the funny little alien antennas to match whatever holiday is coming up? I miss her. I miss Stan the Greeter that we always buy a diet soda for, what if his diabetes gets worse, what if he isn't there next year?! The Big Mac song is stuck in my head, "two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce lettucecheesepicklesonions on-a-sesame-seed-bun!" I miss junky cereal, bright with marshmallows. I miss Sheetz & the grumpy coffee attendant who always huffs at me for making a mess. I know deep down she really loves me. I want to not have to think about organic foods, corporate greed & consumer responsibility. I want one of those frozen pizzas shaped like Mickey Mouse, dammit. Could someone please just turn my brain off for awhile? It was kind of cool being the smartest kid, but not a lot of people walk up to me and say, "Hey, weren't you that kid at the top of the entire kindergarten class of over 100 kids in 1971?!" I don't get that a lot. I don't think I was always like this. I used to eat potted meat on Zesta saltines with my Dad. I am fairly confident it was not organic. I think motherhood did this to me.... Fast forward to the next day... But motherhood also did something else for me! Just when I was about to throw in the towel, my daughter and best friend Tallulah called. She started telling me about how good she felt, how she was eating healthier than she had ever eaten before and was feeling like a million bucks. Shut up. I was just trying to not slip into a sugar induced coma from the half a pop tart I had stuck in my mouth earlier. I woke up the next morning feeling like I had a hangover and made a decision. I am NOT giving up or quitting. I am getting back on track. I am going to do this. Even though I was starting to slip and "mess up" and feel crazy again (like when I wrote the beginning of this post) I still hadn't messed up big time. I was starting to drink way too much coffee again. No value meal drive-thrus wearing dark glasses or eating tubs of ice cream though...just little bites of stuff here & there. A bowl of cereal with Hank. Little stuff. But boy oh boy did it make a difference! In an attempt to "lighten up" and have "fun" I almost blew it. I was starting to want more more more but for once I caught myself. I want my mental clarity back and the energy more than I want the Mickey Mouse pizza. I am going to work on lightening up and balance and fewer rules but what is fun is to wake up and want to play with your kids and that was going away. So I got up yesterday morning had high protein breakfast, ate well all day,(even when Gaston starts munching down on Kentucky Fried Chicken & biscuits!) I ate lots of meat, eggs, dairy and vegetables, potato before bed, no sugar, white flour, bad oils, coffee or alcohol. So, thanks to Tallulah and very supportive emails from Mary & Julie, I AM BACK! At least for now. Whew. That was a close one.