The Terrible 30's

The two year old was quietly sitting in her booster seat. It wasn’t until a red balloon came into her sights did she start to stir. She wailed and thrashed herself around.  Scratches on her mom’s arm was proof this sassy girl wasn’t giving up. The same scenario happened after the older girl said she was full. A delicious piece of chocolate cake was placed in front of her dad. She wanted that cake even though her tummy was making noises and cramping. When her dad took a call, she snuck a bite. When he returned he demanded to know who took a bite. The older girl took a deep breath and then blamed the two year old. 

Funny how people want what they didn’t know existed or what they didn’t know they needed. As children we learn to cry or throw a fit when something doesn’t go our way.  We learn how to fight for our fair share. Whether another kid’s toy or the candy sticking out in plain view. As we grow older we learn to stop the impulse to take whatever we want or pitch a tantrum at will. 

As teenagers we learn to manipulate and use things to our advantage. Any tidbit of information can be used in our favor.  This comes in handy in school when you catch a conversation about the boy you are crushing on. A whisper about a house party tickles the eardrum. Observation is a teenager’s secret weapon. 

Being an adult and wanting comes at a price. Adults want to the best house, the lucrative job, and the perfect marriage. When those things don’t happen, we stew. Resentment takes over and spirals into guilt and regret. Someone else is in possession of what we want. It would be easy to regress back to our two year old selves. Scream and grab at what we think should belong to us. Act like a rebellious teenager and scheme to get our way? As we see in reality shows and the news, people do use these tactics. Wanting may cost us. It could cost us our current jobs, current marriages, current state of being.  Some have an affair; few may pick up and move far away. My adult self would rather just accept the conditions then disturb them. 

I wish I could act like a two year old. No longer caring about other’s feelings or if they get hurt.  I wouldn’t sweat over leaving people and things behind in my wake. Unfortunately, I’m not a toddler.  I tend to care too much what people think and feel. Often times at the expense of my own feelings and wants.  Although the wanting is still there, I have to be an adult. It is time to put on my big girl pants and deal with life as it comes.

Lost Days of Innocence

Cotton candy taste

Milkshake dreams, candy dazed heads

Running around till street lights dim

Playing in dirt, making messes with paste

Torn band aid where skinned knees bled

Children’s laughter is the best medicine

Rose tinted faces, sticky hands now wet

Soggy mittens, knotty stringy hair

Crowded playground, whipping cars along with street

Little things mean a lot like loose change found

Moving higher and higher on the swing set

Egged on by friends, big kids start to stare

World looking miniature underneath small feet

With courage, jumping off and landing on the ground

I just want to hear the children play

No longer a fight over silly rules
Such as bedtimes at early twilight

Sense of security, cavity of society decays

Playgrounds once full of life become eerily silent
On that somber and tragic Friday.  -Karen Pilarski

The New By: Karen Pilarski

The countdown begins. Soon horns will blare and colorful confetti will stick on tongues.  The slushy sidewalks now disturbed by shoe imprints. Flash pictures and drunken texts are reminders of the intoxicated rush of excitement.  Last calls and missed opportunities won’t sour the sheer happiness of the New Year.
Newness is exhilarating.

The feeling something out in the world is untainted and untouched. No residue of past accidents or physical and emotional injury.  Lack of prior knowledge or scars left over from decades ago. No bumps hiding during the test drive to see if the ride will be smooth.  Like the new year, a promise of good things to come. Promises and resolutions made as people get caught up in the ‘new’.

There is the term used called a classic. Something out in the world that has withstood time.  An object or person from long ago that survived frosty fronts, scratches and jabs.

Unfortunately, if the will isn’t there, the old classic will be abandoned. The wear and tear will be too much to bear.  Once shiny and clean will become stale and rusted. No matter how many new years have come to pass, it won’t ever have that fresh scent.

If it was ever valued it could be repaired brand new. If beloved, it would have been kept in great shape. In fact it most likely was restored after hard work and determination.

If only that feeling could be bottled up and sprayed in the air. Maybe then the yearning for the ‘new’ would dissipate like colorful confetti littered on wet ground.

Mr..er Mrs. Destiny by Karen Pilarski

I remembered the move Mr. Destiny with James Belushi from the 80's. It was a guy who had it all but didn't know it at the time. He got a chance in the form of Micheal Caine as a bartender to revisit the crucial moment that could have changed everything. In a zap he was a baseball star and had Renee Russo as a wife. As far as I know I never had that one crucial moment. There have been opportunities or paths I didn't take. Never have I ever looked back and wished I could change the events from the past. Until now. The best times in life can be the most stressful. Think about getting married or having a baby. So much planning and preparing goes into it. I'm about to graduate with a Master's degree. Instead of being overjoyed, I'm terrified and sad. I was never scared when I graduated with my BA degree or when I turned 30. Nor was I petrified when I got married and became a step parent. Like the main character from that movie, I feel something is missing.

Often I daydream about traveling the world or living in New York as a writer. I'm sure there are people doing these things now that wish they had a simple and easy life. I know there others that are sick, struggling, dying. I know people who lost their jobs, dealing with cancer, losing something valuable.

I graduate next month. Then what? I know in my heart I can't stay in the same place. Although I'm very happy to have a job, I feel I could be doing more than being a secretary. I can't wait for the perfect circumstances to sprinkle from the sky. I doubt some angel in disguise will let me redo something or lead me to my ideal life. The meaning of Mr. Destiny was to appreciate what you have. I do. I should be over the moon happy. I can't let my own fears of not finding the perfect job or not making enough money bring me down.

What I want changes more time then the weather. I wanted a baby. That didn't happen and now I've given up. I wanted to be a famous writer, but that hasn't happened and I got discouraged. I wanted to marry Brad Pitt, but he has millions of kids. At times I don't like various aspects of my life. Who do I blame for my challenges? Everyone else. In reality the only person in charge of my own destiny is me. I need to take this crucial moment and make the change I want to see.

Web of Eyes by Karen Pilarski

A web of lies
Decorated, woven silky lines
Spun and stretched up high
Arched the eyebrow to deflect and defy
Used color lenses to add to the disguise
The spinner, coward hides truth inside
Although not as cleverly as she may find
The heart and eyes don't lie
Just I. 

The Luster

I walked into my apartment tonight. Same familiarity welcomed me as I opened the door. My husband's pillow folded over like he always does when he takes a nap while I'm at work. Turned on the tv for some white noise. ESPN blaring startled me from my calm state. After eating some pasta I opened the freezer. There was some ice cream that was recently purchased. I had a slight premonition. I bet Mr. Pilarski made tracks with a spoon in the carton. Slowly opened the lid. A brief minute of excitement came over me. Ta Da! Tracks!!!

Sometimes I wish it wasn't the same thing everyday. Work, dance, homework, shower, sleep. My mind sometimes wonders away from the confines of the cluttered apartment and life. No dirty dishes in the sink, tangled game controllers abandoned on the floor. No half eaten P&B sandwich now stale and sticking to a plate on the coffee table. On occasion my mind escapes to New York or a place where there aren't so many complications or issues. Maybe I wish for more excitement than seeing if there are grooves in an ice cream container. My gal pal and I secretly joke about mind cheating with other people (like a celebrity or some random person we think is cute). I don't think it is about a lackluster 'love' life. I'm content with the luster. I would never cheat on my husband in reality. Could it be I miss being impulsive? I yearn for a spark of unpredictability in my mundane day. To some, they crave some state of stability. Other women could be out there wishing their significant other would commit to them or maybe they are too scared to make a move on someone.

When I first met my husband I was a college student. I thought he looked handsome in his uniform. Tousled brown hair and a sweaty upper lip. When I would hear his keys on his duty belt down the hall, I swear my heart skipped a beat. I was involved in a messy, rocky and toxic thing that sort of resembled a relationship. I longed for a sense of stability and wanted someone that would be loyal. One day after work I made a move. I'm known to be slightly impatient and I was sick of just being a girl with a crush. I'm not really the assertive type but in that moment I was. Maybe I miss that feeling. That all or nothing, do or die feeling.

 Almost 5 years into this marriage, I still secretly think some of his quirks are cute. I mask it by complaining to him. I find it cute when he scratches his face with the other end of the fork. I think it is funny when he leaves a folded over pillow on the couch. I like to call this the 'trail.' I know exactly what he did most of the day.

I love when I find peppermint patties in the fridge because he knows I love them chilled. I love when he pulls me close to him in the middle of the night. I love all these things and would be heartbroken if they ever went away. I may have to turn in my wife card by admitting I may 'check out' by day dreaming about being somewhere else or with someone else every now and again. I know I never would be as happy as I am with my husband.

Tonight while watching my recorded shows I had a thought. What if suddenly there were no more spoon tracks in the ice cream or empty water bottles places around the apartment? What if there was no ESPN blaring to remind me my husband was home? I put the lid back on the ice cream and placed it back in the freezer. Then cuddled up with the folded pillow and wished it was Midnight and he would be off of work.

Space by Karen Pilarski

Space. What everyone needs and wants at times. It could be physical space. Perhaps tight quarters has led to heated arguments and hurt feelings. Living or working too close to someone has caused others to think they have no privacy or life of their own.  I know how my step kids feel. They are with us everyone other weekend and we live in a two bedroom apt. For awhile they were sharing a bunk bed. Granted, they are not with us 24/7. There was no space for them to add personality to their room. It looked like a couple of little kids lived in there. A broken green rocking chair, dusty toys with strings of cobwebs stretching across them. Disney globes, broken and dirty. The apartment became too crowded with stuff.  An ugly painting, sport equipment from 1990. No one felt they could even breathe.

Everyone needs emotional space. Maybe a relationship is exhausting or becoming dull. Problems left unsolved start showing signs of cobwebs and dust. Love's shine of lust and excitement may start to lose it's luster. Too much time spent together or apart has caused a type of rift that needs mending and some T.L.C. Less of "what will be" is replaced by "what could have been." The mind wonders to a place far away and sometimes in another lifetime. Thoughts  never thought were possible start seeping through the rift and into the lover's soul.

During these stormy and unpredictable waves of self-doubt the need for personal space is evident. The silence on the phone isn't a sign of trouble. The quiet dinner together doesn't mean something is amiss. Maybe the person just needs some solitude to think and remember the brilliant shine of love's luster. Time is needed to take out meaningless thoughts and objects that are no longer important and that take up too much space. Room to stretch out and catch one's breath.

Time heals all wounds both spiritually and physically. In a blink of an eye sick person either gets better or worse. While illness brings people together it can pull them apart. There needs to be space to rest up and gain energy. When moral support and warmth is needed, they will let you know. Heartache is the same way. The heart takes time to mend. Not just heartache from love but from life's ups and downs. All people need is just a little space.