My Summer of 2023 Renaissance

Last time on The Cat I was discussing options with my GYN. According to her, we had a bevvy of options from which to choose. I trusted her and was ready to explore. The first tool in her toolkit was low-dose birth control. It promised an end to the the roller coaster of emotions, pelvic pain and hot flashes. Sign me up!

The initial weeks on this protocol were phenomenal. I felt better than I had in months. My energy was up and my pain was down. My general outlook on the world was positive and optimistic. Low-dose birth control where have you been all my life? I wondered why I hadn't done this before. Things were looking up. I began to use the membership we have at the YMCA. Lifting weights, building muscle, and looking good.

By the second month the tides were turning, in the wrong direction. Summer was in full swing. Hunter and I decided to try FOUR different summer camps this year. With my job at The Savannah Book Festival my schedule gave me the flexibility to try camps with hours and locations that were previously out of reach.

Along with a diverse sampling of summer camps, Hunter had a two-week trip to Chicago, and I had a week in NYC planned for work. It all went off without a hitch, except for the mood swings. They were back. 

Spikes of fury and exasperation, some provoked others outsized reactions to normal inconveniences became frequent occurrences. A few other unmentionable symptoms kept me awake at night pondering the purpose of low-dose birth control and my harried existence. I traded my life for an existence. I was not living. I suffered physically in ways that sent me spiraling into despair one moment and feeling awkward and uncomfortable in my body the next. 

With the side effects outweighing the benefits, I ended my relationship with my GYN, and her protocol. Instead, returning to my acupuncturist and an herbal treatment plan. Within days I felt better. I emerged from a fog of incoherence like Italian Renaissance painter Botticelli's The Birth of Venus. I was refreshed, sharp and filled once again with my robust, impulsive life force.

As I basked in the newness of my post-hormone replacement therapy emergence, an urge to celebrate my survival and reinforcement of my ability to trust myself above all else became imperative. 

What better way to celebrate my renaissance than with Beyonce's Renaissance tour. Until next time on The Cat.

I Had My First Hot Flash in 2019

The aging process is inevitable. A reflection of our inability to control time. Although we can have an influence on how we experience time as well as the aging process we can't stop it, move it forward or reverse. All this to say I'm perimenopausal, which is not awesome most of the time. 

Moving into middle age is not for everyone, but we all have to do it. For women this process can be harrowing. As we produce less estrogen and progesterone because we are moving out of our reproductive years, our bodies awkwardly adjust. For some it's a breeze, a walk in the park, nothing particularly memorable. For others, namely me, it's a bumpy ride toward menopause. 

I had my first hot flash in 2019. It was unmistakable. Like the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion I remember exactly where I was when it happened. I was at work, one the many jobs I have had since my arrival in Savannah, when I felt an unusual heat rising in my pelvis. Not just my pelvis, but in my vaginal canal. You know that saying: Stick it where the sun don't shine? Well it felt like the sun was shinning inside me with a heat and intensity that caused the rest of my body to at first warm and then, God help me, burst into flames of sweat. It was fast-moving, powerful, and propulsive. I thought the heat was going somewhere, taking me somewhere I didn't know, but might be fun? The heat continued to build expanding from my pelvis upward into my abdomen, my chest cavity, my neck and finally my head. Within seconds I was covered in sweat. My bra and panties wet with perspiration. And then, just like that, it was gone. 

What just happened? Have you seen the animated series on Netflix: Hilda? Hunter and I love to watch this show. There's an episode where Hilda uses a witchcraft spell to help her mother and best friend achieve their heart's desire. Her plan goes awry when even though her mom gets her dream job, and David gets a solo in the school choir, the payment is their SOULS. As Hilda, David and her mom careen through the streets of Trollberg to the site where they can undo the spell, both David and Hilda's mom fall into myoclonic convulsions from which they emerge amnesic of the previous 90-second fit.

 

This is what a hot flash is like. For a short burst of time I felt hot enough to lose consciousness and then suddenly my bodily functions returned to homeostasis as quickly as the heat began. As I sat in office in my wet underwear (ideal conditions for yeast propagation), I considered what just happened. As I tried to describe it to a friend I diagnosed the condition with my description. I said the strangest thing just happened to me. I had a flash of heat come over me quickly and then leave. I gasped, cupped my palm to my mouth with a popping sound, and whispered: I just had a hot flash. It was a revelation of epic proportions.  

The symptoms in the months and years that followed were recurrent, with mysterious triggers. New indicators of my perimenopausal existence appeared. Mood swings that swung from despair to white hot anger were illogical, unprompted and profuse. Lethargy, inability to focus and pelvic pain joined this unholy diagnosis. 

My gyn reminded me at every annual that if symptoms became too uncomfortable, I had options. By May of this year I was ready to explore my options. Until next time on The Cat. 

When One Thing Ends Another Begins

Last time on The Cat I chose motherhood over career which was intimidating and the opposite of what I typically do. I am a Capricorn that means I am driven, goal oriented and safety seeking. Taking the leap out of full-time work scared me, but watching my son's face when I took him to school and picked him up everyday told me everything I needed to know. I made the right the decision, and it was going to be ok. 

I spent the weeks after TEDx adjusting to my friend's and family's recognition that I am a 9/11 survivor. That I struggle with that description was a surprise to many. There was a period of adjustment for us. In the meantime, I looked for work. Not with very much intention. I set parameters around the kind of work that could meet my needs instead of the other way around. After a few short weeks a software company came calling. I approached the process with a light touch. Unsure if full-time remote was what I wanted, they made me an offer that was too hard to refuse. 

Before I knew it I was working fulltime remotely with colleagues in three different time zones, using equipment and platforms that were both new and intimidating. The first few days were exhilarating. The weeks that followed were tough. A new industry and a culture that was foreign to me in ways that left me bewildered. As the summer came to a close and Ryan prepared to leave for foreign adventures, I realized it was not a good fit. Although it was a WFM position, it was not as flexible as I hoped. 

Hunter was stuck at a nearby summer camp where he watched more Disney movies than I have ever seen. It was the only camp that could accommodate my hours, but I wanted much more for Hunter's summers. I left the WFH gig and sought greener pastures. I spent the next few weeks supplementing summer camp with park days, play dates, and boardgames. Hunter and I spent time together doing things we both enjoyed. I also took sometime to figure out what was next for me professionally. I asked myself some questions such as how much cash do I have on hand, and how much do need? Not how much do I want, but how much do I need? Next I asked what I wanted. Flexibility was at the top of the list, and fun was next. I began to pray for a job that I would do for free, but of course would pay. It wasn't long before the position at The Savannah Book Festival sparked my interest.

When I arrived in Savannah in 2017 at the behest of one of my best friends, I networked. I volunteered, attended, and accepted every invitation that was extended to me. TEDx and the Savannah Book Festival being my favorites. I saw an announcement that they were looking for an Assistant Director. The job description was a good fit. It was advertised as part time, which meant I would have the flexibility I needed.

The outgoing Executive Director remembered my competence and outgoing personality. With a good word from her and my participation in online and in-person events the job was mine. I started my new position a few days later. The new job meant I would spend my days recruiting award-winning and debut authors to one of the most prestigious book festivals in the country. I spent the next few months reading more books than I ever had in my entire life in preparation for the festival. It also meant I would be reunited with one of my favorite authors, Douglas Preston. 

I Have My Reasons for the Delay... and They Are Good Ones

Last time on The Cat, I gave a TEDx talk. An experience that took almost a year to recover from. I have very good reasons for the delay. First, I got COVID. I laid on the couch at home in recovery from my Talk and all the powerful emotions that came with it.  I also felt like someone kicked me in the throat. One minute I was fine. Just feeling a bit tired. The next, I couldn't swallow.

Over the next 48 hours, my symptoms increased in severity. Aches and pains, followed by a fever and sore throat. Hunter had the flu a week before. I was certain it was the flu so I took Dayquil and worked from home with my camera off and declined to opportunities to speak.

By Wednesday of the next week, I went to Urgent Care asking for a Z-Pak to speed up the process of the flu. It was the end of June in Georgia and temps were well above 90, and yet I sat in my car with the heat on shivering. 

Surprise, I tested negative for the flu. Bewildered, I began to gather my things to head home and continue my DayQuil treatments. The PA suggested a COVID test, which I thought was absurd. I went along with him and after almost 20 minutes I tested POSITIVE. I couldn't believe it. Even after I spent a day in an auditorium filled with 200 people, I wasn still in disbelief. I shook hands with strangers, hugged my coaches repeatedly, and snacked on continental-styled hor d'oeuvres. I still had a tough time accepting the diagnosis. 

I had two doses of Moderna and a booster. You can read all about the fun I had here. How could I possibly have COVID? As many of us have learned, it doesn't matter how or why the vaccine performs the way it does because the vaccine is not a prophylactic. At best, it will decrease the severity of symptoms, but it cannot prevent them. 

I spent the next few days sleeping as much as I could and dreading the time I needed to spend in front of my computer. It took a few weeks to feel normal again. And by then I hated my new job. I left the job I had for three years to spend more time with Hunter. Only to realize working from home solved some of the conflicts of Ryan's travel schedule presents, but not all. Facing down the barrel of motherhood is a defining moment in every mother's life: your child or your career. 

The wise women among us say we can have it all, just not all at once. I have so much and I have deep gratitude for it all, but I knew I had to start thinking about work differently. Hunter is at the age where he needs more and with Ryan gone most of the time and family in NYC and Chicago. I'm all he's got. I needed work with much more flexibility. And that my dear friends is exactly what I got. Until next time on The Cat.

I Leaned In So Far I Fell Over

Have you ever wanted to change your life? Have you ever had the feeling you were in the wrong place, but only to show you how to get to the right place? If you have then you intuitively understand the intersection of confusion and knowing that I have lived for the last eight years. 

Motherhood is complicated, and first-time motherhood is arduous terrain. A few weeks after my son, who is now eight, was born his Godmother uttered chilling words I will never forget, "From now on your life will be dominated by the search for efficient and safe childcare." The joy and satisfaction I had holding my son after I survived 14 hours of labor leeched out through one of the folds in his blanket. Her words hit me at me at my weak spots. Between the two of us Ryan and I have five healthy parents. That's plenty of hands to go around! However, as days turned to weeks, months and years, I found the reliance on family for childcare was a pipedream. Compounded by the fact that we lived halfway across the world in Italy when Hunter was born, it dawned on me that Hunter's Godmother was prescient. 

I viewed my career as an essential part of my identity. Independence is a requisite component to my happiness. It was why I worked so hard to graduate from college and grad school and secure a career. I could not, should not give that up to RAISE A BABY. EVER. No one I knew did this. My peers hired nannies or seemed to have a mythical set up that ensured their offspring were always cared for no matter what. What happened next in my journey was a surprise. 

My resourceful nature was key to balancing motherhood and career. My aunt stayed with us for the first three months after I gave birth. Then Ryan's mother for three months after that. By then Hunter was ready for daycare. I cried that first day at drop off but prioritized getting back to work. I needed my identity to be tied to my career. The alternative title, MOM, more precisely STAY-AT-HOME MOM terrified me. Waitlist navigation became an essential part of my existence. When the list for daycare, preschool, kindergarten and later specialized elementary schools opened, closed and how many were on the list dominated my life. 

One of us, typically Ryan, travels a few times a month. I juggled childcare needs and stuffed down any sense of guilt that tried to make its way to the surface. The juggling act was trickier Stateside. Although closer to family, they weren't as willing or available to us as we had hoped. 

Most unfortunately, I became determined to prove I could do it all. Buoyed by Sheryl Sandberg's book Lean In, I continued to push for a defining career worthy of my experience, education and talent. I needed to be challenged and respected at work. I pushed, networked and applied until I got as close to my previous high-powered roles as I could. When I finally arrived at my cube back in Corporate America a sense of unease slowly began to creep over me like slug on the concrete after a humid spring rain. The title was impressive inside the organization, although coordinator had an administrative ring to my seasoned ear. The pay was better than any other since my arrival, but below my worth. 

I tried to treat Ryan's schedule as a minor inconvenience (he travels two to six months out of the year). An event to be managed. Something to be worked around. I reveled in the idea that everyone was looking at me marveling at how I got it all done. "Isn't she amazing.," I hoped they whispered as they closed their eyes before bed. This was cold comfort as the pandemic forced me to re-evaluate what matters most. Until next time on The Cat Who Swallowed the Canary.

Woman on the Verge

My work from home situation

For weeks as the impact of the pandemic spread through our lives, I wondered what was next. I did my best to live in the moment as the media onslaught seemed to threaten our existence on the planet. I adjusted to working from home and homeschooling, but as my professional responsibilities ramped up, I began to feel the pressure. How to care for my son, work 40+ hours a week and manage to eat and sleep? With a key element in my support system in NYC dealing with a prolonged cough and nationwide restrictions, I found myself increasingly overwhelmed. My son's every need rested squarely on my shoulders. I felt the weight of it deep in my heart. Long accustomed to "handling" difficult situations well, I began to feel torn between motherhood and career with renewed intensity.

We are all coping with COVID-19 in various ways. Each of us in our private circumstance, but the minute we compare our situation to that of others, we have slipped into despair. Comparing our insides to the outsides of others is not only a waste of time. It is also irrational behavior that we all engage in from time to time. It is normal to have the thought, but it's important to let the energy of the thought pass through you as quickly as possible.

I was having trouble doing that. I was comparing and despairing that others were having an easier time managing their time and stress level. When I finally snapped out of it I remembered the best advice I can I take is my own. My son needed me. He is a social creature. The abrupt end to the social engagement of school, and a wildly disrupted routine was taking its toll. The school district offered one hour Zoom calls, but they did little to stem the tide of boredom and loneliness.  

When our children are not well, we are not well. As I sunk into this awareness I also began to speak up. I shared my list of anxieties with my virtual book group: The Cheetahs. They showed me enormous compassion and kindness, and I began to think clearly. Finally.

I had a few conversations with my boss and our HR Director. I chose to step back from work for a period of time. Two weeks to spend with Hunter, and two weeks part-time. Enough time to get him moving outside in the sunshine. Shower him with affection. Spend lots of time making eye contact with him and assuring him that we are safe. Yes our routines are disrupted but, I remind him often that we have each other. We take it one step at time and recognize that this is all temporary. We have started a gratitude practice. We document on paper all the things we are thankful for especially when we get down. 

Summer camp begins on Monday, June 1. It will mark my return to fulltime work. This time with my son has been an amazing experience. He teaches me patience in ways that are new and often challenging. I am excited for this next chapter. I look forward with optimism to the opportunities for growth that are ahead. 

A TEDx Talk Deferred...

Last time on The Cat Who Swallowed the Canary I was gushing about my only in my wildest dreams opportunity to give a TEDx Savannah talk. I was beside myself with pride and joy when things began to take a subtle turn into what I am calling the unstable unknown.

It began in early March. Glennon Doyle released her third book in her memoir series, Untamed. To say that I was looking forward to this third installment is an understatement. I listened to the second in the series via audiobook with rapt attention after Oprah named it to her book club in 2016. I had not read that kind of raw honesty that managed to inspire while it shocked me since Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I could not stop thinking about Glennon's meticulously chronicled life and in particular her exploding marriage.

Then suddenly she met Abby Wambach and in quick succession dating and marriage. It was a lot to happen to someone who I thought I knew and understood. I was more curious than ever about Glennon. I thought she and Craig were working it out, but when she described what their sex life was like after she discovered he had been cheating on her for years, I was not altogether sure how they could move forward. Turns out they could not move forward, at least not as husband and wife.

I am not ashamed to admit that I am a Glennon groupie. I am a devoted follower on the Gram. So when she asked that we pre-order her third book I did. That allowed me to get have the book within day of the release delivered to my home. There was a book signing in New York that I hoped to attend but, my TEDx photo shoot was scheduled for the same day.

I highlighted my way through most the book within a few days. Savoring every detail especially that parts of her burgeoning romance will Abby. The book challenges women to put themselves first and let the rest burn, which is a radical concept because women are more often coaxed and cajoled to put themselves last. Placing the needs of their children, husbands and other obligations before their own. Here Glennon advocated revolt against all that. Focus on self and let the rest burn. Radical thoughts indeed.

When the book concluded, I was revved up with no place to go. I was finding my way back to a book that sparked the first revolution of my adulthood: The Celestine Prophecy. I recalled there were some sequels to it and began to look for them. Instead, a deep red background with gold lettering appeared in my suggestions feed: Mary Magdalene Revealed. It stopped me in my scrolling. This book called out to me in a familiar voice that I wanted to learn more about.

Within a few days I found myself besotted. It was moving, expansive and inspiring. The book is about the nature of love and the rightful place of the feminine in Christianity. It reveals what has been hidden from us.

As I sat fully immersed in the wisdom of the author, I was also working on the meat of my TEDx Talk. My talk is about authenticity and the only path to it is vulnerability. Both Untamed and Mary Magdalene were full of instructions of how to express those concepts. I was living inside my inspiration. I was eager to extol the joy of my self discovery when COVID-19 began to work its way into all of our lives.

The call came during my daily walk. It was one of the TEDx organizers. He called to say the event was being postponed. That was expected in light of the daily developments. He went on though. The event was postponed until next year. That last detail left me reeling, but I quickly saw the reality of the situation. The virus was only beginning to affect every part of our lives.

The 2019 Round Up

Turkey legs are a thing at Magic Kingdom

Although we are securely in 2020 I feel a 2019 roundup is necessary because it was such an amazing year. I found my footing in Savannah, both professionally and personally. To be sure there were challenges, but the rewards were better than I could have imagined, and I am grateful for all in equal measure. 

The highlights of the year were easily the Xena Retreat and the new job. To have one of those happen in the year would have been amazing. Instead I had the opportunity to spend three days immersed in my favorite television show and meet other women more obsessed than I am with Xena. Then when the timing was just right an amazing job opportunity plucked me out of obscurity. And just like that I was back in the corporate game. It is not the most exciting job, but it is in my field, near the house and I have enough flexibility to have lunch with Hunter once a week.  

We had dear friends from Italy spend the holidays with us. We took a quick trip to Orlando and spent a few fun filled days at Disney and Cape Canaveral. It was exhilarating to have a piece of my Italian life here with me in Savannah. 

I also chose to work with a life and business coach this year. I met Samantha almost immediately after my arrival in Savannah via Meetup. All the chaos you have likely heard about in the news is true, but the folks holding down the the fort at WeWork and are keeping the Meetup.com social networking platform alive, but I digress. I attended a few of Samantha's events and we soon became friends. She introduced me to a few other women online and a few others in Savannah as well. I watched the people she surrounded herself with grow, change and become more. Of what you may ask? More of who they are. 

It began to dawn on me that I had an unmooring after Italy. Seven years away from friends and family can do that to girl from time-to-time. With new adjectives and roles in my life I often felt adrift. I am American but, there are still a great many cultural obsessions that I missed out on and often don't relate to here. Memes, gifs., and a few Microsoft word shortcuts to name a few.

Let's welcome Samantha to the performance area that is my life. Although we are friends I wanted to change that relationship into something of a more professional nature. I had never done anything like that before. Your therapist can never be your friend. Same as professors, well perhaps professors can become your friend. That is a story for another day. Today we are discussing my decision to hire my friend as a business and life coach. 

When I approached Samantha with the idea she was surprised. She knew I had a business  idea I was trying to get off the ground. I had attended a few online workshops with her for that, but then I realized I needed to do some inner work to fix a vibrational issue. I knew she could help with that too. I was very clear with her: I want to vibrate higher and I think you can help me do that.  

We agreed to 12 sessions over the course of seven of the best months of my life. All of our sessions were online and recorded so that I could view them later if I needed (I have not needed.) She gave me books to read, The Four Agreements. Videos to watch, The Circle of Influence. There was even homework.

I was racing to work after dropping my son off at school one morning. A police officer stopped me for going 62 mph in a 55 mph zone. He let me off with a warning but, the traffic stop scared me half to death. Traffic stops gone wrong are allover the news and social media. Samantha helped me to pull apart all the fear and anxiety around the traffic stop. In some of our sessions we tackled 9/11, but mostly importantly she helped me regain the inner confidence I lost after a bout with postpartum depression and the house fire in Italy. There is always more work to be done, but the work I put in last year has set me up for a terrific 2020. 

Xena Taught Me Italian

As unlikely an Italian teacher Xena: Warrior Princess was, she was certainly the best. I am referring to the eponymous television series of the late 1990s. I was living my second Italian adventure from 1996 to 1999. I set lofty goals to speak Italian with better fluency, but I was not progressing fast enough. I desperately wanted to be fluent and make friends with my wildly fashionable neighbors. There were a few American television shows that were consistently dubbed into Italian: Baywatch, Friends and The Robinsons aka The Cosby Show. Italians could not say Huxtable so the whole thing became The Robinsons, but that topic should be dealt with in a separate post.

And so it happened that after Friends and before Baywatch, Xena: Warrior Princess aired. It was as banal a start as any of my other potent obsessions. A stoic, dark haired lady with bangs, clad in leather and weaponry. She was mostly in a bad mood in the early seasons. Nothing much to see. Keep it moving. The action was sometimes fun, but the critical piece was the dialogue. The language was simple and I could understand some of what was going on from the tone of voice and the action sequences. But, the devil was, as they say, in the details. I could not grasp details of the story arcs. This was during the early days of the internet and a quick search led me to Whoosh! Here I could find an episode synopsis. Once I caught up to the current season I was able to read what happened. By the end of the season I spoke Italian..well almost. Enough to have vivid conversations about fashion, food and culture with my wildly fashionably neighbors. After I finished with my graduate program I moved back to the States and watched the show in real time.

I tried in vain to find real life fans of the show, but no one I met watched with the same sense of wonder. The obsession was part nostalgia for those amazing years in Italy. The other part was the way the show portrayed an independent woman living by her own set of values and those values changed as she gained more life experience. There were tragedies for sure, but also a romance for the ages. I chose to keep my love for the show to myself and moved on to other pursuits. I never went to the conventions or cosplay events. I had a different relationship to the show, and it had nothing to do with the costumes. It was about the journey of self discovery, the adventure and motherhood. The show thinly disguised complex subjects of violence, love and forgiveness. It had one the best character development arcs ever.

The years passed and Xena faded into the background of my life. Then late last year one of my favorite episodes was on television. A strange sensation washed over me. It felt like running into an old friend that was once a source of great comfort. I began to poke around the internet to see how the years had treated my favorite characters. The years had been kind. I found the Xena Warrior Podcast (XWP). Three film students dissected each episode and gave lots of background information about the show's directors, writers and producers. It was as if someone flipped a switch on inside of a dark closed off room in my heart. Suddenly power, energy, and what felt like my my whole life force, was flowing into a long forgotten part of me. Then in the middle of season five they started talking about something called RETREAT. A weekend billed as an event where you can talk about Xena all weekend long and no one looks at you funny. I listened smiling with interest that slowly transitioned to hope and finally desire. A few key strokes told me everything I needed to know: It was a few months away in California just outside of Los Angeles.

The XWP hosts spoke about RETREAT as if it was paradise. I still thought of it as an extravagant indulgence. I could not travel across the country for a four day trip about Xena. A show that went off the air almost 20 years ago. The idea was ridiculous and crazy. I had just started my first full time job since my arrival in Savannah. It took me two years to find this job. The thing is the more I thought about it, the more I realized I could not, not travel across the country to talk about Xena all weekend with other fans who felt a deep connection to the show.

Retreat was almost three weeks ago and it was PHENOMENAL. I made it a priority and took the time from work to go. What about Hunter? I recently learned an important lesson regarding motherhood. I am a better mom when I am a happy woman. It is important for Hunter to see his mom passionate and excited about her life. As soon as I signed up to go an entire world of other fans going to RETREAT became available to me. I was dropped head first into the Xenaverse and it was marvelous.

Once on the ground at RETREAT things quickly escalated to an effervescent sparkle. All around me there were causal conversations. What surprised me most was the topics discussed were not hyper focused on the show, but around RETREAT itself. I had the greatest sense of belonging I have ever known. I found the others like me. 

In 1997 when Xena first cast her spell on me I quickly understood a particular writer had the strongest point of view when it came to her character. Steven L. Sears is best described as one of the architects of the Xenaverse. The driving force behind Xena. He wrote many of my favorite episodes. The ones that explored esoteric concepts, explored alternative histories, and stretched my imagination. He brought to life a flawed woman who easily demonstrated rage, sorrow and joy. Sometimes viewers were treated to all of those emotions in one episode. I wondered for years who is Steven L. Sears, and how did he form this character. I had the conversation in my mind often. To be perfectly honest, dearest reader other than Hunter, meeting and discussing Xena with Steven L. Sears has been my heart's deepest desire.

In the months leading up to this extraordinary adventure I focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Looking any farther ahead made my head spin with confusion, anticipation and something dangerously close to the spiritual ecstasy St. Teresa experienced. This pivotal moment is depicted in one of my favorite baroque sculptures in Rome. A quote from her autobiography says it all: "The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surprising was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it."

I overheard that Steven L. Sears was at RETREAT as he had been almost from the first RETREAT six years ago. This was one of the reasons I could not think about RETREAT before I went. It was the thought of meeting Steven that stirred the most profound emotions.

Notes for Steven

After dinner I headed to the outdoor stage where Hey, King played theme music from the show replete with drums, strings and singers belting out the mysterious Baltic chorus. I thought I had died and gone to the Elysian Fields. In a tribute to the Amazon tribes often among the storylines of the show, there was a dance party around a bonfire. Would be dancers and patient observers such as myself methodically filled in the area around the fire. The night air was layered with a cool dampness. No rain just the influence of the humidity and high altitude. Soon a DJ pumped tunes deep into the night air and revelers danced without care for rhythm or circumstance.

Steven L. Sears wears a trademark Indiana Jones styled hat. He is easy to spot in a sea of women. To be clear there were several men in attendance but, us women easily outnumbered them. I did my very best not to appear creepy in any way but, I kept my eyes on Steven praying to all that is holy for an opening to start a conversation. A few minutes passed. I moved into the same row with him. One of the event organizers sat close to him. Their knees almost touching as they exchanged photography tips. Talking into their cameras about the myths around flash photography. Steven's attention was drawn away for a second. I slid hurriedly next to the organizer and blinked quickly at her. Trying to contain my excitement and focus my thoughts: "That's Steven L. Sears right? Listen, I am his biggest fan. It would me the world to me to have a conversation with him. Do you think he would be open to that?" She looked at me intently. Immediately understanding the import of the moment. "YES, he would. He loves talking to us about the show. He will surprise and thrill you. He will answer all the questions you have and go deep with his answers. Talk to him," she gave my hand an earnest, tight, squeeze and a gentle nod. The us she is referring to are the other Xenites. The official name of the event is the Xenite Retreat.

I shot up as if someone pricked me with a sharp object. I ran, at top speed, back to my room. I wrote out my top five questions for Steven. The top five questions I kept close to my heart. The ones I nurtured, pet and refined for 21 years. I whispered them as I wrote them down. The words spilled on to the paper effortlessly. My pen was the guide, but the words poured from my soul. The action was perfunctory. Just a tool to help me prepare for the discussion of a lifetime. This would help me keep my composure and organize my thoughts.

 I 

walked back to the bonfire with carefully measured steps enjoying every moment. Back in the seats around the bonfire the organizer created fertile ground for me. When I found my way to the seat near Steven she gestured to me as she whispered to him. I read her lips, "That's her, your biggest fan." And just like that I moved closer and began one of the most intensely satisfying conversations of my life. Every question prompted new questions. We spoke for hours tumbling from one topic to the next. My eyes fixated on his face as we discussed the origins of Xena. The how and why he infused her with so much power and vulnerability. Why he cares about women's point of view with the sensitivity he does. We discussed my favorite episodes. Why he left the show. What he did while he was gone. How the Hollywood machine works. It was fascinating. Think of the most precious moment of your life. Now conjure the most delicious food you have ever tasted. This is what that night was like. The most incredible part of all of this is that it got even better the very next day. Until next time on The Cat Who Swallowed the Canary.

The End Is Near: Watch Killing Eve

What's your rut got to do with it? Everything if you ask me. One person's rut might be another's pinnacle. Of course we are all on our own journey, but if you are like me and seek to live a life beyond having your basic needs met then you could be in a rut. Taken a step further you may not even be aware that you are in a rut. I had an inkling I might be. And when that happens I set a goal. Nothing big or especially glamourous, just something that I could focus on intentionally. I chose to drink a gallon of water a day, and it changed everything.

I have a dear friend. I will call him Larry here in order to protect his very gay identity. He visited me in Italy, and was one of my first gay friends to get married in New York when it became legal. He still lives in New York, works in finance and has his finger on all things pop culture. As I write this, he is spending the holidays with his family in Taipei, Taiwan, which is the new Paris. A few months ago he asked me if I was watching a popular British television show: Killing Eve. The show has been on my radar for a few months, but I finally got around to watching it. Best decision I made this Fall. It shifted my perspective just enough to give me some much needed impetus.  

Motherhood asks a lot of women. Motherhood asks a lot of me. I thought being a good mother meant I had to put my needs at the bottom of a very long list. Good mothers give their children everything right? WRONG. That practice sucked the vibrancy out of my core. The voice in my head that sounds like Oprah tried to remind me to put on my oxygen mask on first, but I had trouble doing and believing it was right. Enter Villanelle the professional assassin at the center of the Killing Eve tv series. Not only does she exercise her agency at a very high level, but she is also impulsive. Ok, she is also a sociopath, but let's not get caught up in the details! I thought motherhood meant I had to shutoff my impulsive nature because well, I didn't want to be reckless with a baby around. Here is the thing: my uninhibited nature is the core of being. Without it joy and vibrancy receded into the background of my life. 

Watching this little show with Sandra Oh aka Christina Yang as MI5 spy, Eve Polastri and Jodi Comer with her glowing "disco ball" skin, as Villanelle, a professional assassin, inspired me to pivot to another direction. Villanelle does everything at level 10. It is all full speed ahead for her. Act first, think later type of gal after my own heart. She is joyous, impulsive and a tad reckless. Attributes I gave up in hopes of becoming a more mature, maternal version of myself because I can't fuck up raising my kid. But..that lady sucks. I am sending her back to that tiny, dark corner in my brain where she sprang from.

Which brings us back to Jodi Comer's skin which goes beyond inspirational. The luminosity of her skin is aspirational. Skin with an elusive clarity that reflects light is a gift you don't even know you have in your 20s. You just wake up and light beams out of your face with you scarcely noticing it. In your 30s you learn that your skin is changing and if you do not learn how to take care of it, you will live to regret it. Some of us heed the call; others put it off for another few years. Well dear reader I will tell you that when approached my 40s I took decisive action that paid off. I diligently researched products, and techniques. I also began my journey into the world of anti-aging supplements at that time. I eventually found the right combination that made my skin radiant. I carefully tracked the results. I discovered that what I put inside my body was more important than the creams, serums and masks I applied. This stuff takes hard work. Once I had Hunter skin care is one of my passions that fell to the bottom of my list. Those pregnancy hormones definitely made me lazy. That was five years ago. Each day he becomes more self reliant leaving me with time to reflect on my needs. And boy am I needy.

Watching Villanelle is highly entertaining, and I am well aware that she has an army of makeup artists and a skin-health consultant to get her skin gorgeous. Those pesky details do not distract me from the attainable goal of glass-like skin. Recently I assessed my skin care regimen and products. There are still a few gaps, but I realized quite quickly I need to drink more water. My allergies are still kicking my ass, but I am fighting back much harder with a strategic response: OTC medication (Allegra+Zyrtec), exercise (spending time on the stationary bike everyday, getting some running in) and chugging copious amounts of water.

I am up to 80 ounces of water a day. It has been a few weeks. My eyes have stopped tearing and are less puffy. I feel more energized. I am a lot more active because drinking all that water means I go to the bathroom very often. My skin is clearing up. Also, I learned about a few interesting products from the In the Cut article linked above. Most importantly I am taking responsibility to incorporate more joy in my life.

Last year I closed the blog out strong by posting everyday. The results were invigorating. This year is a bit different because of my new JOB (yes, I found a job), but I do intend to close out strong nonetheless.

In love and pushing for more, Mickie

I Am Getting Good at This

Practice makes perfect

The year is almost over and now is a good time to take stock in what I have accomplished thus far. I did not make the 1k followers on the Gram. I also did not become the Gwen Stefani of fashion, beauty and wellness, yet. I did something better.

I made peace with the here and now. I have mostly released the fear about tomorrow and the next 25 years. There are a few minutes a couple of times a week that I think about my retirement: How will I maintain the lavish lifestyle I have grown accustomed to? (Oh wait, I do not live a lavish lifestyle.) This new way of living in the fullness of the moment has energized me. I am doing much more with the new energy and confidence, but I am also taking it easy.

A few weeks ago my recruiter of almost a year decided to go back to school to complete her finance degree. I am thrilled for her, but it does mean that she will no longer be my contact at the agency. Let's call her Alberta for the moment. Alberta and I were working together to find my "forever job", while I build my forever business. When she initially shared the news I asked if I could call her back. I took a few hours to process my emotions. We had a great professional  relationship, and budding friendship was on the horizon. She helped my find several assignments that were fun, and flexible. The two of us could talk for hours about life, and the nature of work. I worked hard to cultivate that relationship, and now it was gone.

In the hours before I returned her call I asked myself what lesson was in this challenge for me: Get up and keep pushing. I called her back to get the details and started scheduling meetings with her replacement. During my evening meditations I have focused on my awareness of the present moment, my intuition and what my body is communicating to me. I have sought to be bolder with my thoughts and actions. Through this meditation I have made space for the most exciting and fulfilling experiences and relationships I have had in the last six years.

Bringing Hunter into this world has been the most incredible gift of my entire life. Motherhood, although deeply rewarding, can be terribly taxing. I wanted very much to be a perfect mother to fulfill his every want and desire. My inevitable failings discouraged me. I quickly trapped myself in a place where my needs were at the bottom of the totem pole.

I made small changes at first because that is how the big changes happen. I did a little everyday. My intentional daily actions made a difference, and the results have been brought me tremendous joy. I have made new friends and deepened existing relationships. Life has been particularly sweet lately. I made a few strategic decisions to shift my thinking at the start of the year. I am in love with where those changes have brought me. Of course there have been challenges, but I have learned to weather them better. I knew 2018 would be awesome, but it is turning into spectacular.

Once upon a time I practiced a lot of over thinking. More recently I decide what to do based on the following three questions:
Does it feel good in my body when I think about this choice?
Is it authentic?
Does it support my journey?

When I can get yes to those three questions I know it is the right decision.

A few weeks ago I saw Hunter's karate school was offering adult Krav Maga knife combat instructor classes. I was interested but, there were a few factors I had to consider. I decided to treat the uncertainty about the class and how to make it work with Hunter's schedule as noise. I asked myself the aforementioned questions. With my answers sorted I signed up. The class was intense. Electrified knives were involved. I tussled with my partner for a few hours. Taking turns wrestling each other to the mat and dodging that electrified knife. To complete the course I had to teach a specific technique to the class. I left there well fed in body, mind and spirit.

This Thing with Anthony Is on Again

Hunter drew ears on Anthony's head

The years between 2000 and 2004 were fueled by a mostly healthy obsession with the lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers (RHCP), Anthony Kiedis. The period culminated with meeting him at his book signing at the Barnes & Nobles at Astor Place in New York. Afterwards I placed the book in a place of honor and felt sated. And just like that it was over. No more cyber stalking. No more memorizing all the lyrics and parsing their hidden meanings. I had a great story to tell about me and the artist who inspired me to live my life with more vitality, less fear and a heap more intention. I set my mind on meeting him and made it happen. I had renewed faith I could accomplish anything I set my mind to and that was worth the price of every concert and plane ticket I paid to get close to him. It changed me in ways that here I am fourteen years still thinking about him.

At this moment in my life I do not have four years to spend on a celebrity obsession crush. The only way to stay off another Anthony binge was to expel it all in a speech at Toastmasters. I have been stuck with my Toastmaster progress. I have three projects left and have been stalled all summer. Then two weeks ago someone mentioned meeting a celebrity and all the frenetic Anthony drama came rushing back to me in a waterfall of emotion. I found the book he signed easily. It was in storage while I was in Italy, but came to me easily when I searched for it.

My eighth speech: When Your Celebrity Crush Is More Than a Crush

Revisiting that time in my life was exhilarating. It was more than a crush because my interest in Anthony exposed me to so much more than just his music. I became interested in what inspired him. That included the poetry he read: Charles Bukowski. The movies he enjoyed: Amorros Perros.  He took me on adventures that I would have otherwise missed. I traveled to Ireland to see him in concert, and had the time of my life. 

I listened to some of the songs from that time to get me in the mood in the days leading up to my speech. Before I began my speech, I dimmed the lights and let the opening sequence of my favorite video play for the audience. Had to make sure everyone knew who I was talking about. Most did, some did not. Most of the members of my club are aeronautical engineers from India. Had to be sure they knew the RHCP.

This was my chance to share such an intimate part of myself with people who did not know about us (Anthony and  me). I was a ball of nerves, but it felt delightful to share this with my colleagues. I introduced them to an amazing artist and a special person.

It just so happened the Toastmaster Area Director was visiting our meeting. She announced that I my speech was wonderfully done, and encouraged me to me to wait for it..enter the humorist speech contest next year. 

Anthony is still challenging me to move beyond my comfort zone and live life with more exuberance and vibrancy. Thank you Anthony, who knew we would last his long. 

Anthony Kiedis' Signature

Like a Virgin; Shiny and New

This was one of those summers that as a teenager I would notate as being a turning point. An awakening, the beginning of the beginning. The Summer of 2018 will go down as one of those. I did the things I did not think I could. I crossed a meaningful threshold. Most importantly I stepped back into the joy of my life.

Three years ago a battery exploded in our apartment setting the course for series of challenges I was not sure I would survive. I lost most of my worldly possessions and Italian law enforcement wanted to throw us in jail for arson. Even though we were cleared of all wrongdoing in the case, it was a devastating blow to my sense of safety in small rooms and in the world at large. I was filled with fear all the time even though I jumped out of burning building and saved my life. I worked slowly to put the pieces back together. In an effort at total transparency I will tell you that after I jumped out of that window and clawed my way to safety I heard God's voice. He told me to look around and see that he had not forsaken me. It was a euphoric experience. I clung to it, hoping I would hear him speaking to me clearly again. He has not; at least not in that dramatic sort of way I hoped for after.

In the weeks and months that passed I tried to put the whole thing behind me, but the feeling that I was not safe anywhere lingered. Coming back to the U.S. was supposed to help, but there were even more unknowns here to keep me trapped in my fear. I was jumpy, skittish and a general mess. Last year an overcooked hotdog brought the fire department to our home. Hunter and I were so lathered up that the firemen insisted on coming into the house to make sure we were as fine as I said we were.

Then I started blogging regularly. Started a Meetup group to find my people. (It is thriving by the way.) Met the founders of my favorite podcast, and told them how they inspired me. They thanked me on social media. I met a Meetup platform director she loves the community I am creating. I was elected vice president of my Toastmasters club. I registered with a temp agency. My recruiter and I developed a candid relationship. She told me frankly that I am overqualified for most of the jobs in Savannah, but she can keep me busy if I am ok with assignments that are not as challenging or well paid as my previous roles. I agreed and once I let go of money and status I began to truly HEAL.

I accepted a two month temporary position at the most well known retail corporation in the world. It was basic office work, but the hours aligned with Hunter's school and karate schedule. It was also close to home and low stress. Most days I came home with enough energy to work on my special projects and spend quality time with Hunter. My days were filled with new people living in circumstances so vastly different from my own that I told them very little about myself. My days were filled with dramas tiny and large, and all the hot gourmet drinks I could drink, which wreaked havoc on my skin. I gave up trying to find a permanent position at this place. Although it is a multi-national corporation this particular location does not have a position for someone with my particular skill set. Let's leave it there.

Once I sorted through that dilemma I strapped in for the journey. I learned a lot about Savannah and the America of 2018. Juggling a full time job, a four year old, a husband in Afghanistan, and the rest of my life built my confidence back up a little bit at a time everyday. There were small indignities to be sure. Someone asked me to cut out little carboard ID cards, but I did it gracefully because I was out in the world in this place where no one knew about my past. I was just a lady in an office who wore nice clothes. I adored the anonymity. And it allowed me to shed that ash that clung so tightly to me.

I feel a bit like a virgin: shiny and new.  

My Itty Bitty Titties Are Going to Save the World?

When I was a pre-pubescent girl I whispered a not-so-secret secret to my cousin who was also my first best friend. It was late at night and we laid face-to-face in the dark during one of our many sleepovers. Jean I whispered, "I don't think I will have big boobs. Like ever." She sat up in my darkened room quickly, "Yes, you will! You're boobs will come in. Don't worry." 

If you know me then you know those boobs never came "in", to my great dismay. As I approached my fortieth birthday friends began to warn me about my impending first mammogram. When I finally had the courage to listen to them I heard that my small B-cup breasts would be smashed sandwich style in a very threatening machine. 

My first mammogram did not disappoint. There was much to fear. It was terrible. I dreaded every appointment going forward. At my most recent mammogram the technician propositioned me. She told me a fact I already knew; I have dense breasts. I have known this for years. They are petite and dense. Mammograms have a hard time seeing into the tissue. The proposition was to join a medical research study, have an non invasive Automated SoftVue 3D Whole Breast Ultrasound exam and receive $50. Twenty at the first exam and thirty next year at the second.

I was tremendously excited because I watched a lot of Grey's Anatomy before Christina left and the show became too complicated to follow. Christina and Meredith were obsessed with medical research studies and clinical trials. The technician was offering a chance to be part of research study. My itty bitty titties are going to save the world? According to the technician and the literature my breasts are precisely the kind of boobs they need in the study. She promised it would not hurt and described it as a pleasant experience. I am always up for a good time and an adventure. This was a bit of both.

Just before the giggles began.

It was a great experience from start to finish. The technicians at the Imaging Center were skilled, professional and fun. I had to change out of my street clothes because this ultrasound involves lots of warm water. I was never so excited to have a medical exam. Why would I turn down a boob massage of warm water?After I undressed I placed my breasts one at a time in a warm puddle of water while the jelly suction cup under my breast began to apply suction and pressure. It was wider than a nursing baby's mouth, but the same power. Suddenly it felt good, a little too good perhaps. I tried to hold it but, I giggled and later guffawed uncontrollably. It was contagious and soon the technicians were laughing too. It was certainly ticklish, and I will take that sensation over the smashing of the mammogram any day.

Both the mammogram and the SoftVue came back normal. My cousin Jean was wrong about my boobs and a bunch of other stuff that came after puberty. But she was my first best friend, and our relationship set the stage for lots of other women in my life. I love my little community of female friends in my life now. Most of all I never imagined my itty bitty titties could make a difference in breast health for women someday.

The Revolution Is Being Televised

A few months ago I was Hunter's escort at a play date. His friends have a trampoline in their backyard, which is standard in these parts. No playdate is complete unless I am part of the fun. I climbed onto the trampoline enthusiastically. He squealed with glee at the sight of my bouncing. After a few minutes I noticed my panties were wet. Each jump forced out a bit of urine? Yes, that is a question. I was not quite sure it was pee because well I did not feel the urge to go. I reluctantly left the fun, peed and returned. To my utter shock more liquid came out each time I landed. I had no desire to pee. I cut the playdate short to go home to change my pants. At home my pants were wetter than I have ever experienced.

I discussed the events with a few of my female friends and they all agreed that they have similar experiences, but advised I should mention to my gynecologist. Today was that doctor visit. My doctor nodded knowingly as I whispered discreetly that I had trouble holding onto to my urine while on the neighbor's trampoline. She looked me straight in the eye. All her attention focused on me. She was taking this trampoline business seriously. I was not exactly prepared for this level of intensity. Boy did she have news for me:
I have a weak pelvic floor
Been peeing wrong
Kegels should not be quick bursts of squeezing
Physical therapy is an option (digital penetration is part of the deal)
Amazon sells the Apex for $249
And lastly, surgery is also an option

My head spun. That is a long list of options for something as frivolous as trampoline jumping. But it was more the idea that a part of my body is weak that worried me. My allergies leave me wilted most days. I just do not have the energy to be as active as I am wont to do. This has been a source of concern. I love pushing myself physically either through weight training or whatever of the moment martial arts catch my interest. My allergies have slowed me down a bit and I no longer feel strong in my body. THIS. MUST. CHANGE. The change might just need to begin in my vagina.

In addition to the aforementioned Apex and other comments on the list, I remembered the actress Regina Hall speaking about her Yoni egg. I laughed at her shenanigans. I boil eggs, peel eggs and eat eggs. What I do not do with eggs is hold them in my vagina for safekeeping. This will require a great deal more research, but I have to tell you I am intrigued at the promises of not just a stronger pelvic floor, but a super charged love life. Who among us ain't down for some supercharged lovemaking?

The Handmaid's Tale vs. The Bold Type

Two of my of the moment favorite shows: "The Handmaid's Tale" and "The Bold Type" (TBT). Both shows tightly focus on the female experience in our current time-ish.  If you have not heard by now that Margaret Atwood's 1980s novel The Handmaid's Tale has become a hit tv series on Hulu you have disengaged from pop culture in a very real way. And that is perfectly ok. The thing is this might be the appropriate time to reengage. Let me give you a hand.

In "The Handmaid's Tale" Peggy from Mad Men is now June/Offered in a dystopian, totalitarian America where the birth rate was so low and Americans so fearful that they allowed a religious cult to take over the government and institute ritualized sexual slavery to save us all from ourselves. That is the gist of this dark, often mysterious show. What's that now? Why would you want to watch that? Because it inexplicably timely. The characters accept each new assault on their freedom with some consternation, but never the anger and outrage one would expect. At least not until it is too late.

I watched the first season last summer binging episodes late at night and reading blogs that unpacked each of the dense storylines. I eagerly awaited season two as it moved into unchartered territory. The first season ended with the book. After the first few episodes of the second season I stopped watching. It was torture porn. Every week June/Offred was assaulted or demeaned in some unspeakable way. The other characters did not fare any better. I asked the ladies on the forum I follow closely to let me know if the second season turns the corner to something more positive.

That turn happened recently. The women gained some power and exercised it to make things better.

Then suddenly there was talk of June/Offred's unborn baby being taken from her and the forgotten horror of child separation as a practice in the fictional country came rushing back. But not just on the how. This was also happening here in this country, in this time. It was incredibly hard to watch the news and the show. Watching life imitate art should never be this painful. I think another hiatus is needed from the "Handmaid's Tale". It has become too hard especially in light of the separations at the border.

After feeling drained and oppressed I switched to TBT. It's a "Sex And the City" (SATC) millennial version with a lesbian, bi-racial character. This fixes many of the diversity issues we saw on our beloved SATC. In stark contrast to "The Handmaid's Tale" I feel uplifted after watching TBT. I love seeing these young women critically engaged in their careers and friendships with one another. There are no oppressive patriarchic systems crushing them out of existence. There are male characters in supporting roles, but the drama is not typically about them. There is even a female Editor-in-Chief who could easily be the villain, but she is not. She is finally the good boss that seeks to mentor these three young women as they navigate the cutthroat fashion magazine world in New York.

Of course these shows are not met to be competitors in any way. What they are though are places where modern women can see themselves. Where we can indulge in the fantasy of other realities for ourselves. This is harder to do in "The Handmaid's Tale" of course. I cannot help but see myself in the characters even, or perhaps especially, when they are in their darkest hour.

This Was Bizarre Foolishness

Seven years out of the country will do a number on your pop culture knowledge among other things. There are quite a few shows out there that I have either never heard of or watched. Sometimes it is both. Bizarre Foods is one of those shows.

Part of the deal we made in order to come back to the U.S. was that Ryan would deploy three months out of the year. They doubled the deployment this year so he is gone for six months. We are almost half way through. I am learning some big lessons this go around. I am stronger than I thought, and having a fantastic support system has helped me to see that.

I am deepening my relationships with my family and learning how to insist people respect my boundaries. And I continue to navigate the brackish professional environment in Savannah. I am still working with my client. That is going very well. Also a friend of a friend recommended I connect with a temp agency. Typically the assignments do not work with my schedule with Hunter, but this week I made it happen. I had to hire someone to help, but it was well worth the effort to have an office outside of the home to go to everyday.

The assignment is nothing to brag about. Typical office work. Nothing I would be interested in doing full time, but the location is fantastic. I spent the week in historic downtown Savannah, which is hip, cool and trendy. Everyday I tried a new restaurant on the best of Savannah list. Friday I went to the Kayak Café. It almost felt like New York in there, but everyone was too laid back. I took a seat at the bar and ordered a chicken burrito. After a few minutes a man sat next to me. He was clearly a regular at Kayak. No sooner than he ordered his fresh salad did it appear. I wondered how much longer did a burrito take to prepare. I inquired about my meal as he chowed down on his. It came out almost immediately after I asked.

I noticed a certain air of aloofness wafting from the guy sitting next to me. He stood out in contrast to the relaxed atmosphere. Most people would have made some sort of gesture of hello; this is the south after all. I made a mental note that he did not, but my burrito was so good the thought quickly passed. We sat munching away at our respective meals in silence. Then I heard the waitress point out a young woman at the other end of the bar.

Waitress: We were just discussing how much you resemble Andrew Zimmern from the show Bizarre Foods.

Aloof guy: NO RESPONSE

If you were looking hard enough you could see a slight shrug to his shoulders. Perhaps a hint of annoyance, but overall he neither affirmed nor denied it. This was not the response I expected. If someone mistook me as a television personality I would definitely have a response. Unless I was the celebrity they thought I was! I turned to him quickly and asked if it happened often that people mistook him for...I stopped mid-sentence and asked who exactly he was supposed to be. He said the show is called Bizarre Foods. I asked how does that work out for you. His eyes lit up.

Celebrity guy: I wonder if should get an agent sometimes. There was this one time a woman jumped out of her car asking for my autograph.

Me: Oh that sounds a little over the top.

Celebrity guy: There was this one time a woman let me pat her on the ass.

Me: Eww

My shoulders automatically pulled back and I lowered my chin in disapproval. He turned away briefly.

Celebrity guy: I should not have said that.

Me: No you should not have. It was inappropriate.

He pushed his salad away.  

Celebrity guy: I am so embarrassed. I should not have said that to you.

He whispered once more that he was very embarrassed. He quickly paid his bill and left in a hurry.

The girl at the end of the bar asked what happened. She was shocked when I told her. This unfortunate encounter highlights aspects of the #metoo movement. It reinforced the entitlement men of a certain age and stature feel in the world. Whether it was his fame or his wealth, he felt entitled to speak to me in a way that made us both uncomfortable. He said he was embarrassed but, failed to apologize explicitly. On the bright side he policed himself. He knew it was a misstep and instead of making it worse he left.

I walked back to my office wondering if I had done something to invite the comment. Perhaps I should have not opened the conversation. Maybe I was wearing something that gave him the wrong idea. Then I remembered that he was embarrassed because he did something wrong. I did nothing wrong. In fact I did everything right.