Multiple Personalities

I keep having these battles in my head lately about who I am and should be. Don't worry, I am not feeling all blue and in no way, shape or form am I depressed. Perhaps I am just full of bullshit, have multiple personalities and should just embrace my odd self. Maybe I need to explain this with some more depth, or maybe nobody cares and I should just grab a corner, hug my knees and cry. Oh come on people, that is so Hollywood. In the real world I would go find an empty bar stool at some dark, dingy place where I can make friends with the bartender and the old fart next to me before finding the only half-decent and non-toothless idiot to hang all over until I feel better about myself right? Hmm....maybe that is too real. Anyways....

Each day lately I have all these thoughts roaming in my expansive brain about the future. You see, I am usually a big time planner but am trying to get away from being way too German and OCD. Sooo...this new non-planner me is having a hard time finding focus beyond the day, okay week really. Some mornings I wake up and want to be this aloof, moody, brooding deep thinker who walks about all mysterious-like and makes everyone feel less smart and less cool than me. Then afternoon hits and I am like, really? So not you Rebecca. Next. Enter hippie me. Now this personality takes things as they come, is super happy, not too chatty but definitely social. She also likes to be outdoors, and stare at the sky. Maybe even smell some flowers, pick one for her hair and comment on how the trees are so pretty. Oh yeah, this me is very lovable. Just when I think maybe there is a good mix going on...enter the puta. For whatever reason I cannot seem to get rid of this pesky bitch for the life of me. I don't like her, either does anyone else. Unless of course I happen to drink too much tequila than the puta is funny, oh so very funny. I am working on getting rid of her asap. So not good for the party man. I suppose there is also just the chill me. I like her. I want to mix this attitude with the brainy aloof girl, with the aggressive business woman I can be and the amiable hippie me. I am weird.

Perhaps what I need to do is open up a hotel (all environmentally sustainable of course) on a nice beach where I don't have to wear shoes and allow only moody artists and uptight Wall Street peeps to come hang and take a load off. I don't know. Either that or I can do the complete opposite. Whatever that is. You see my dilemma here? ha

The American Dream

I saw a glimpse into what my future will not be today. I worked in a certain county in the state of California, that for the pure politeness factor I will not mention by name, that made me want to find the nearest pine or palm tree and hang myself. For many people this community appears to be rather lovely. Jogging trails through man-made forest parks, alongside man-made lakes with cookie-cutter track homes, close-in to your nearest upscale grocery store and chain restaurants. Oh - and not too far from a possible yoga studio where you and other wifies can get together 3 mornings a week after the kids get off to school to gossip and take your life to the perfect zen place. Gag me.

Not that there is anything wrong with basically being bought to keep some techie geek happy while you live it up in a nice home with a nice car and a black American Express card. Or is there? My pride and self-respect as not only a woman but a human being won't allow me to perform my wifely duties for some flabby ass old white man just so that I can have the latest Prada loafers on my perfectly manicured feet. Nope. Can't do it. In fact, the notion of this "perfect" little suburban life just makes me want to gag. Keep up with the Jone's? Why? The Jone's kinda suck in my book.

However, here is where I sound like a wee bit of a hypocrite. I, myself, would have zero problem with having a 'kept' man. Yup, I think I could do it. However, here are were me and this corporate, fake boobies, liposuction, 2 little brat kids and a Range Rover part ways. My paid man would be hot, younger than me and be able to do more than just pleasure me, give me children and look good at the neighborhood Christmas/Hanukkah party. Oh yes, he better be able to fix anything that needs fixing, tell me "no" in a firm manner when needed, keep me in check, and then basically let me get my way (or at least thing I am) and be loyal. Like a dog. Although housebroken and less smelly. Unless of course he smells of grease, aftershave and maybe coffee or a hint of good whiskey. Gross, but oh so good.

Anyways, I am glad I had this conversation in my head today. I just reassured myself it is okay to be me and not want to live this so-called American dream thing. How freeing of me.