‘Tell me is there a way to replace all the dreams that didn’t come true’

I’d noted on F-book yesterday that “I’d rather be blogging.” Of course, one very astute male reader asked me if I were sure “blogging” was the verb I was searching for. 😉 Ah, he knows me so well!

I’ve sort of taken a vow of blog silence for the past few days and should probably continue it. And yet, here I am, a fountain of every emotion under the sun and yet with nowhere else constructive to channel it.

Big things are happening here at Casa Caterwauling. I mean, when I decide to stir up the pot to make things interesting, I end up with a Category 5 hurricane. And right now is about the force of a Cat 3, and things are building.

What exactly am I up to, though? Can’t say. I mean, if you’re in the inner circle, even Stevie Wonder could see what’s been coming. But what I think is astounding everyone is the balls it took to do what I’m doing.

And that right there tells me it was time. I mean, since when have I ever been nervous and afraid? (If you’ve been reading for a while, you know I’m the first to admit when I’m feeling that way. Your membership to Oversharers Anonymous automatically gives you full access to my neuroses.)

I can’t wait to write about what is going on. Because I need to overshare. I need to justify and pontificate and basically do the Snoopy dance on top of the doghouse. It’s very hard for me to make decisions alone. Well, I’ll take that back — it’s imperative for me to make decisions alone, but when I do, it’s impossible not to share the results with the world.

Perhaps it is approval I seek, but what’s so wrong with feeling validated once in a while?

I was talking to someone recently, who asked me where I thought I’d be in five years. Dream big, he told me. Anything in the world, what would I want.

And my heart broke clear in half inside my chest. With tears in my eyes (and this was a phone conversation), I said I didn’t know — I thought I’d forgotten how to dream.

“When did we stop taking pictures
And when did you lose all your fight
And where did you sign
Give up and resign
I never gave up on you
No, I never gave up on you.”

A Girl Called Eddy, “People Used to Dream

This was a turning point in my mind. There have been many turning points, hence my head spinning and all. But I remembered our friend Leanne, who passed away almost a year ago very suddenly, and immediately stopped feeling sorry for myself for having too many choices.

There was a girl who loved and lived and who didn’t pass up an chance to see or do anything and took every opportunity to meet/connect with every human in her path. Damn aneurysm. Her passing was just so wrong, we all knew it had to mean something. But, what?

I wrote on Leanne’s F-book wall recently. I know she’s not “there” but I wanted to share something with her. I’ve wanted so much to do something with my life to honor hers and the way she lived so boldly and didn’t miss out on life and love and friendship.

When she had passed, I had this random epiphany that there was this boy! whom I! needed to be with!


OK, so clearly THAT wasn’t one of my more-successful plans in life. Whatev. At least I checked my ass into Weight Watchers and can pretty much have any OTHER boy I want. So there. *pfffbbbttt*

But I’ve still been looking for something to fill that hole in my heart. The “OK, so what if you were gone tomorrow — what will you regret not doing?”

I never had that answer.

Until it presented itself to me.

I would never have thought of it otherwise.

So I’ve been walking around with this guilty conscience for a while. But on Monday, it evaporated. And I started making Plans.

And while I still can’t see where I’ll be in five years, I dread my 40th year (gah) far less than I did two weeks ago when I had that discussion about my future. It’s a start.

In any case, I thanked Leanne for it.

She didn’t even live to see 30, so far be it from me to even be nuts about turning 35 this year.

And so what if this is my early midlife crisis? Haven’t I earned it?

Anyway, kids, big, big things are in motion right now. And like I “told” Leanne, she’ll always be with me. And, guys, so will you. That’s what’s giving me the courage to at least give you something interesting to read about (eventually)!

One Lonely Response to ‘Tell me is there a way to replace all the dreams that didn’t come true’

  1. Mel :

    Does the cabbage patch still count as a dance? ‘cuz I’m doing it for you!