Am I missing something?

Why is it that when well-meaning people learn that the divorce is bumping along (and for those of you playing the at-home version of our game, yes, the divorce is, indeed, bumping along) they assume the very next thing you want to do is

Date. Everyone. Available.

Now, don't get me wrong ... I have nothing against dating. But sheesh ... I only just got used to the fact that I'm going to be single again. Why the hell would I want to muddy the works with Some Guy?

So before you ask, no, I am not on match.com. I will not be joining eHarmony, or any of the many other coupling/networking sites available out there. Nothing wrong with 'em, they are just not my style. I am not gong to size up everyone at the gym and formulate a list of men in whom I am interested. Thank you, no, my reason for being at the gym is to be fit and healthy, nothing more, nothing less. When I talk to the hunky guy at work, I am not flirting, I am really just talking. And dammit, just because a guy in a bar says I have a nice nose (ain't that the best pickup line you've heard?) it does not mean that I have to swoon and follow him home.

No, folks, I have nothing against men. I love men. Some of my favorite people are men. Many of them read this blog! I guess I just look at it this way: If I should choose to one day re-enter the dating pool, it will be on my terms. It will be because I met someone who fits into my life, not because I went looking for him, but because our lives intersected and we liked it that way.

Because being Just Maggie again is good. It's been a long time, and I'm enjoying the whole process of figuring out who I am, and what I want, for me. From my perspective, Just Maggie is just fine.

Fun Stuff

Today I have had the best day at work ever. We had our Summer Celebration for work. They do this twice a year, once after the holidays (a fancy dinner with linens and silver) and once in the summer (a fun one with frivolity - last year we went to Dave & Buster's and I kicked my colleague's hiney in SkeeBall.)

Yeah, well, today I spent four hours at Medieval Times. Seriously. I kept sitting there thinking, "This is work. I am getting paid for this." The horsies were magnificent. The food was delish. The knights? Handsome and daring as ever. One bestowed upon me a flower, in acknowledgement of my beauty and grace. (Or more likely in acknowledgment of the fact that I can holler "huzzah!" louder than just about anyone in the castle.)

Anyhoo, with my crappy camera phone, I snapped a few photos before I got the message that the memory was full and I'd need to delete. So here you'll get the two from our outing, and a few others that I'd completely forgotten. Enjoy!

This is me and Juliette, a girl I work with. We are using the buddy system; everyone must hold hands.

This is me and Natasha on the bus. She is also a girl I work with. Please note: I do not make friends at work.

This is Mike at White Castle on the last full day of our vacation. I miss him. He misses sliders.

This is the unbridled joy brought on by steamed patties of "meat."

Mmm ... thirst-quenching goodness.

I try to tell Rae to stop calling the burger "My Precious."

Rae was threatening to whack me with a fry. Yeah, she scares me.

One last one, and yes, I know this makes me look like a pathetic divorcee, but seriously ... what I really want you to notice is the floors. I have been keeping them really clean lately, and it's not easy. But aren't they pretty?

Ten on Tuesday

We now bring you to our regular feature, Ten on Tuesday, which appeared on this blog for the first time last Thursday.

Yeah, bite me. I know what day it is.

Anyhoo, it's a little project we have going - my brother's brother, my brother's sister and I. (Wanna read theirs? Linketh on the right.)

So without further ado, I give you ... my Ten on Tuesday:

1. Most of the people I work with are really cool, but there is one person who just makes me want to eat my own hand rather than talk to her. You could go on a three-day bender or talk to her; you'll lose the same amount of brain cells either way, and the bender is a helluva lot more fun.
2. My pants don't fit. I bagged up two trash bags of clothing that doesn't fit anymore. Some heavy chick is gonna get a great wardrobe from Goodwill. Today I wore a pair of pants that used to make me feel like Kathryn Hepburn - full leg, cuffed, camel in color. They fit ... 40 pounds ago; now they're in the bags for donation. But hell, at least my workout clothes fit. Which brings me to ...
3. The mirror and I are getting along. There are mirrors everywhere in the gym, so we can keep an eye on our form. I used to shy away from them, but yesterday I started to look. And ya know what? In general, I have pretty solid form. On the bike during spinning yesterday, I looked like an athlete, strong and in control. Boxing drills? I look like I could kick someone's ass. And keeping an eye on the mirror reminds me to suck in the tummy.
4. Abs. I has them. They're not pretty yet, but they're there. And there is nothing like the vision of near-perfect abs to make me work mine harder than ever. Seriously, there is nothing like a man with beautiful abs. It gives me hope that I might sometime find my own. But for the moment, I am more than content to look.
   
5. I'm not perfect. I am not a perfect friend, a perfect sister, a perfect aunt, perfect daughter, perfect writer ... perfect anything. But I do the best I can, from where I am, all the time.
6. Laying in the sun is a great way to spend a Saturday. Sure, I used SPF 30 so I barely got any tan, but that's not what it was about. It was about letting the sun warm my skin, falling asleep beside a good friend, and smelling Coppertone on my shoes later that same day.
7. Divorce is sad, even when you're ready for it. But support can come from the most unlikely of places, like Vita at the gym, or Sharon in e-mail, or even myself, when i think I'm completely tapped out.
8. I've said it before, but I'm putting it in writing here for the world to see: Love is like a rubber band. The further away life takes you, the stronger you feel its pull. I know Chris, Janie and Liam feel it in Oregon; Chermaine in Texas; Mike, Rae and Kaylee in Tucson; Clan Rice Carlson scattered across Illinois; Matt, Becky and Alice just a wee hour away, and Patrick and Ed an hour in the opposite direction; my Wisconsin family in (wait for it ...) Wisconsin; and yes, my brother James in India. Can you feel it?
   
9. There are storms rolling in. I used to love watching them with Christopher. I know enjoy them differently, but I still enjoy them. Would I love someone to share them with? Of course. But that's why I called Patrick. We can share, even if it's just over the phone.
10. It's almost August. I can hardly believe summer is slipping away. So I'm grasping onto a little denial and I'm just gonna embrace the calendar. It's summer until September 21, people. That's a little fact you just can't ignore.

There you have it - my 10 facts, thoughts, snippets of "wisdom" for the week. Until next Tuesday, remember this: I love you ten times more than you thought I did.

Smooching my hind quarter

The other day, a "friend" of mine made a comment that hurt my feelings. Everyone knows that I can be a little sensitive, especially when it comes to my looks. I'm fragile there. I still feel a pang when I think of my sister telling me, at about age 17, that I was the best accessory she could take with her anywhere, because I was so ugly I made her look really pretty.

Stuff like that plays over and over in my mind. So imagine hearing a similar comment from someone who is supposed to love me ... yeah, ouch.

But here's the reality, that hit me tonight mid-workout:

I may never be the prettiest girl in the room. I may never be one of the to 20 prettiest girls in the room. But put me next to the guy who insulted me, and I bet I can outrun the SOB. Bet I can kick his ass. Bet my body, as out of shape it is at the moment, is still in better shape than his.

So there, butt munch. Here is my ass. The smaller version. Getting smaller every day.

Kiss it.

Quick thought for a Monday

Every time I talk with this woman I work with, I walk away from the conversation a little stupider than I was when it began.

I would eat my hand to avoid her, and yet I seem unable to do so.

I would rather go canoeing with Kelly than talk to this woman.

Seriously ... it's that bad.

What if the world were a little more perfect?

It was years ago - December of the year 2000, to be exact. I was boarding a plane to Singapore, quite literally halfway around the world, and leaving my love back in Chicago while I was on assignment in a tropical paradise. Don't mention that there was already several inches of snow on the ground and I was going to a spot just a few degrees above the equator - a tropical haven, to be sure. Let's not even talk about the fact that I was being treated like royalty - amazing accommodations, first-class every leg of the journey, my every need met for the entire time I was there.

And yet, I didn't want to go. Leaving Christopher behind for the duration of the trip was more than I thought I could handle.

How wrong was I?

My adventure in Singapore was so incredibly worth it. I have pictures of myself ankle-deep in the South China Sea, taken on the same day Chicago got hit with 14 inches of snow. Hell yes, it was worth it. Did I miss Christopher? Of course. But did I get over it?

You betcha.

It's the same with life these days. I never thought I'd adjust to a whole life without him, and yet here I am. Everyone falls. Not everyone rises. Or at least that's what Maren Ord says in her song, "Perfect." She asks, "What if the world were a little more perfect? Just stop crying - would you take the leap?"

And ya know what? Once I stopped crying, the leap was easy. Leap, hell. Sometimes I feel like I am hurtling headlong into an uncertain future, not unlike leaving my life in the hands of some unknown pilot, taking me halfway around the world.

There are moments, like this afternoon, when I wanted to go to a movie and felt a little down because I have no companion to join me for cinematic enjoyment. And then I got over myself. After all, these days, I have no one to consult regarding what movie I'd like to see. I can see whatever I want, as many times as I want, and not worry even the tiniest bit about someone else's good time.

It's funny, because one of the biggest reasons he gave for why he left was because it was always all about me. (Because, let's face it, I'm incurably selfish, aren't I?) And now? It is all about me. And I like it this way just fine.

Ten on Thursday

This idea is stolen, fair and square, from my friend John's far too beautiful sister's blog and then shared with my sister Bex and brother James. It's a good idea, so I'm running with it ... although it may not always appear on Thursdays.

I give you ... my ten for today:

1. Sometimes, a signature holds more value than anything you own. For example, when you're signing your divorce papers.
2. Hindsight really is 20/20. Cliches are cliches for a reason, and the reason behind this one is ... IT'S TRUE! It was nice to look across the table at my ex and think to myself, "what did I ever see in him?" It was even nicer to walk home and realize that even though there were only two fat cats in my apartment, I was not alone.
3. Alone is as much a state of mind as it is a state of being. For a long time, I lived in fear of being alone. And then I realized that I can be by myself when I choose to be, but I am never alone.
4. It is very revealing that, even when I was "happily" married, when I referred to the happiest time of my life, I recalled college ... the time I spent truly coming into my own. I never thought of my time with Christopher, as amazing as some of those times were, as my best or happiest.
   
5. The people who don't make a commitment to you but live committed to you are the ones who matter. My People - and you know who you are - have no need to promise they'll be with me for the long haul. Promises don't matter; how you live does.
6. How you deal with anything is how you deal with everything. I picked this tidbit up from Rae on vacation. It's someone's signature line, I think she said. Those are words to live by. I kept thinking of that during dinner. I think I dealt with it pretty well.
7. Pride, patience, perseverance. That was Ryan's advice approaching this evening. Keep those in mind, he told me, and I will make it through unscathed. He was right.
8. A friend can hold your hand from hundreds of miles away. "Pretend I'm sitting next to you tonight," Rae told me "holding your hand, and reminding you that you're fantastic just as you are." She was right, too. And it gave me intense comfort to soak up that love, all the way from Tucson.
9. I know how to walk. We met tonight at a restaurant here in Arlington Heights. I walked from my apartment - it's only a few blocks. As I turned the corner toward the restaurant, I saw my ex sitting on a bench outside. I felt my back straighten, felt my steps become very deliberate, and felt how my ass shakes less now than it did a few months ago. I had two blocks before I reached him, and I worked the walk the entire way. See this? See what I'm creating underneath the layers of ice and stone you helped me build up over our ten years together? See who I'm becoming? With apologies to Eddie Vedder, "This is not for you."
10. Love lives. I see evidence all around me - in a new marriage between one of my adoptive dads and his amazing Amazon temptress; on the face of a girl at work (I cannot call her my friend, for I do not make friends at work) when she talks about the new man in her life; in the voice of a dear friend from out of town when he describes a woman "far more beautiful than anyone I have ever dated." Love is out there. And if it doesn't find me, I will remain content to rock my own damn world. Because, seriously ... have you seen me walk?
    

Metaphorically speaking

My life of late has been filled with metaphors, which I suppose is fitting, since I play at being a writer when I'm not writing for a living. I play with my words like some people play with puppies - giggles and guffaws included.

So here is big one that has come into focus over the last few weeks, since I've returned from that bit of paradise I like to call South Haven. I give you, today's glimpse into the Mind of the Maggie:

The Willow and the Dead Oak
I believe we are called to be flexible, to bend with the breezes and bow to the freight trains. Flexibility is the very nature of strength. It allows us to be who we are, to live authentically while at peace with those around us. To be flexible, like a willow, is to curve and bend around that which doesn't perfectly mirror us.

So why, then, would one - oh, let's say, me, for example - choose the opposite? Why would I willingly live in a brittle, unmoving world, where that which challenges me snaps me in half rather than moving me in a gentle dance? I did not bend; I broke. I spent ten years broken, trying desperately to pick up the pieces and urge them back together into something resembling Maggie. But that can't work until major changes are made.

The best news is, a Dead Oak can transform once again into a Willow. She can regain her strength. She can challenge herself, she can be challenged, and she can challenge others. The transformation is difficult, but ultimately worth it, and if we're truly dedicated to it, it's never really done. We just keep bending, keep stretching, keep flowing toward something greater than ourselves.

Sure as hell beats the alternative, don't you think?

Knot! (UPDATED)*

It's weird, the way we change. When we're not even looking, we start becoming who we are, and one day we compare ourselves to who we used to be, and we're unrecognizable.

This can be a good thing, but it can also be a very, very bad thing.

Who I am today is hardly the woman I was two and a half years ago. And who I was two and a half years ago doesn't compare to the Maggie of the late 90s.

How do I know this? Well, the people who love me best tell me it's true. And, sometimes, if we're lucky, someone holds up a mirror for us to see it for ourselves.

I share all this as the long way of explaining that on Thursday, I'll be meeting up with Christopher to take care of the final bits of paperwork to bring an end to our wedded "bliss." As I sit at work today, I'm remembering the sad, scared girl of early 2006, who had just learned her marriage was ending and didn't think she could go on. Every night, I cried myself to sleep. Every day, I tried to figure out how to heal our marriage. Every moment, I prayed the pain would end. I wanted to die, because I could not stand another moment of agony. Anything was better than the life I was "living."

I don't recognize that girl any more. She is gone, lost in the same heap of rubble that was our marriage. So I thought to myself, what would happen if one day he came back and wanted to try again?

I laughed out loud at the very thought. It's funny to think about being in a relationship with anyone; it's completely ludicrous to think about selling myself short ever again.

I tied the knot once. And if I'm honest, I'll admit that I'm a little bit tied up in knots over the idea of ending it. But just a little bit. Because Maggie Now is so much stronger than Maggie Then. And Maggie Now deserves so much more than what she settled for in the past.

While I was on vacation, many conversations were had, much wisdom shared ... I came away stronger and more knowledgeable. Here's a sample of what I was told:

From Bex: "When you were with Christopher, you weren't the same Maggie. It's good to have you back."

From Ryan: "I never met him. I don't have to meet him. He's a moron."

From Racheal: "Next time, we'll pick for you. We won't let you down."

And from Mike: "Eh, fuck him."

Would I have done anything differently if I'd known (or acknowledged) any of that ahead of time? I don't know. But what I know for sure is, if I ever surprise myself and decide to travel down the relationship road again, I will acknowledge and accept the opinions of those who know me best. Because they are the ones who pick up the pieces when the chips are down. They are the ones who provide me with a soft place to fall. They are the ones who truly understand commitment.

I take thee, my friends, to be my wonderfully wacky companions, as long as we all shall live.

*Because I foolishly left off the most important quote.

Photo-palooza

Well, it's done.

Are you tired of hearing me wax philosophical over my week at the beach? Now you can at least see it for yourself.

The online album can be found if you click here. You may love it. You may think I'm crazy. But at least you'll get the picture.

Enjoy. Heaven knows I did.

In the movie of your life ...

... who plays you?

That's one of my favorite party questions. It makes people think, and it's fun to see how people see themselves, who they think can capture their essence.

And then you have a week that feels like it was pulled straight out of a great film. Let's call it "Our Lake House." As the "film" unfolds, you realize that the only person who can play you is you. The characters can only be played by themselves ... and what characters they are!

Just look at that picture. Can you not feel the connection? The love? The laughter? There isn't an actor alive who could have carried it off. This was taken during one of our nights on the beach, where we (and by "we" I mean the boys) built a fire and roasted marshmallows and ate s'mores with a side of sand.

This is us. This is family. This is who we are. And yes, this is who I am.

In the movie of my life, I play me. You play you. It's a hit, I tell ya. Five stars from this critic.

What I miss about the Lake House

I'm still working on the album, but I can't stop thinking, can't stop missing the unconditional love of family. Here are just a few of the things I can't stop missing:

• Bare feet
• Sand everywhere
• Pie
  
• Baby hugs
• Really good food
• Laughing so hard it hurt
• Unending availability of hugs
• Pie
  
• People to talk to whenever you had something to say
• The stairs
• Waking up and sharing coffee
• People who "get" me
• Bubbles
• The sound of the waves
• Pie
• Late-night conversations
• Lightening bugs
• Good beer, and friends to enjoy it with
• My family
• Rainier cherries
• Pie
  

I have long believed that, when I spend time with my "real" family, the Bieritz family, it helps me to understand where I come from. But it is beginning to dawn on me that spending the past week or so with the Rice Carlson Bathje Bieritz family has helped me figure out where I am going. It certainly helped me learn what I am missing, where I am succeeding, and what I still want in my life.

And yes, one of those things is pie.

Homesick for vacation

I'm back. Don't look for too much bloggy goodness over the next few days, however. I'm working on my album from the trip, and I promise to link to it from here as soon as it's done.

Suffice to say that as good as it is to be home, it is not without melancholy that I return to my "real" life. I am grateful for having spent the last seven sunsets with the people who, now that they are going their separate ways to return to their own "real" lives, leave a hole where they filled up my heart for the last week.

Here's to the many sunsets we will share as life unfolds.

Awesome

The rumors are true. Awesome is in town.

It's funny how when you need something, sometimes it just shows up.

Today is July 4. Exactly ten years ago today, I met the man who eventually became my husband. The 4th is one of those holidays that I celebrate with a little trepidation each year, because I never know when the melancholy is gonna hit me.

So this year, imagine my elation when Tucson Mike, Rae and Kaylee scheduled their vacation so they were arriving in Chicago on July 3. This year, there would be no sadness. There would just be fun, laughter and love.

HA, said the Universe, I'll show you.

And on July 3, divorce papers showed up in my e-mail. I have to sign, and he is picking them up on Monday on his way to file. Yes, it's true - one day short of the ten-year anniversary of meeting him, he sends the papers. Once I got over the shock, it hit me: for the next ten days, I don't have to be alone. If I'm sad, I won't have to be sad alone. And I have a sneaking suspicion that being with Clan Rice for a week and a half, I will have a tough time remembering what the devil I'm supposed to be sad about, anyway.

So I guess there are some "thank-yous" in order. To the friends on IM yesterday when the e-mail came through and I fell apart a little bit, thank you for telling me I was gonna be okay. To those who have been by my side - both emotionally and physically - since the early days of the end of my marriage, thanks for never letting me feel alone. To my family, however it's defined, thank you for just being there with me through thick and thin. And to Clan Rice ... thank you for being here when I didn't even know I needed you to be here.

It's true. Awesome is in town. Hot damn.

The Bill of My Rights

I, the Maggie, in order to form a more perfect life, establish bylaws and expectations to ensure my peace and tranquility.

Okay, so I know that's a broad re-interpretation of the Preamble to the Constitution, but I had to start somewhere. As we approach Independence Day, it's got me thinking about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, and if we're going to do that, shouldn't we have some sort of guidelines for ourselves?

Good, I thought you'd agree. So without further ado, I give you ...

Maggie's Bill of Rights
I have the right to fashion. Whether from Goodwill or some chichi boutique, I can dress fabulously. And don't even get me started on the accessories! I certainly have the right to great jewelry, the occasional shoe splurge, and a handbag that makes me weep.

I have the right to music. Life has a soundtrack. I have a themesong. I march to the beat of several different drummers, depending on my mood. Music is my birthright.

I have the right to a clean and comfortable home. Which means I have the responsibility to clean it. Or pay someone else to do it. But my surroundings should be serene and beautiful.

I have the right to great friends. Screw the very idea of having a bunch of n'er-do-wells in my life; it is my right to have a small but mighty group of friends with whom to share my heart, as they share theirs with me. It is my right to collect a precious few who will tell me I look fat in that, share my need for chocolate and plot world domination.

I have the right to drink red wine with fish. Or white wine with steak. Or whatever the hell strikes my fancy. They are my tastebuds, dammit, and I will treat them however I wish.

I have the right to date. It's been a few years, and I keep thinking to myself "you can't date, you're still married." Even when I asked a guy out (he said yes, but we just never connected) I had that weird feeling that somehow I was doing something WRONG because technically, I am still married. It's time to get over the bullcrap; the high road does not mean that I must deny myself the pleasure of male company.

I have the right to enjoy life. Every part of it - my job, my workouts, my social life, my friends and family ... and at the best of times, it all overlaps. Care to come along and hang with my friends at the gym?

I have the right to vacation. Whether it's Disney World, Vegas, camping or hanging out at home pretending to be at a spa, I get to take them. I also have the right to send postcards, or just decide not to, so don't get your hopes up.

I have the right to good beer. Do not come near me with Budweiser, unless we're pre-boiling brats.

I have the right to establish more rights. 'nuf said.