Tuesday night I drove down Portola and was treated to a panoramic of San Francisco. I had a physical reaction, a response in my gut as I took in the view. I love this city. It is the place that I struggled with and explored and eventually lived in while figuring out who the hell I am. I dated dozens of men while single in this city and eventually met my partner. I birthed a baby in this city. The relationship I have with San Francisco is one I don’t question; it will be with me for the rest of my life. It’s a love or love deal for me, there hasn’t been any hate in 17 years. There is some aggravation at what I see as growing pains, and at people who may be less susceptible to absorbing the beautiful soul of the City by the Bay. I feel confident that with its extremes, San Francisco will shake loose those who are skimming the surface, who are here for reasons that aren’t in keeping with the backbone of this town.
“It will change your marriage”
“It will change your marriage, you will never be sorry,” said the woman standing with me at the register at Mancini’s Sleep World. Our helpful sales man chimed in, “It’s the best of both worlds, you can snuggle when you want to but have your own real estate when you don’t”.
My husband and I, married for five short years, have always had a queen mattress. We loved it, cozy and just what we needed, we swore passionately that we would never be that couple that upsized to a king. It was more than a mattress choice for us, it represented how we wanted to live; lean on possessions, keeping it simple.
Fast back to last weekend when we started discussing a new mattress. Suddenly a king was on the table. I was torn, if we were going to buy a new mattress that would perhaps be with us until we are old, maybe we did need a bigger size. And with a son, we have more family time with reading and playing, the extra space may come in handy.
As I lamented the fact that we were considering breaking our early romance agreement, I reached out to a friend who believed that a king size was the way to go. She assured me that I was looking at it all wrong. A king size mattress would open up new opportunities for cuddling, for family time, for romance. She agreed we would not be sorry.
The mattress was delivered today. It is epic, huge, it seems to me to take up the entire room. We laid down on it for just a few minutes and it feels comically large. I have buyers remorse. In my typical all or nothing style I peppered my husband with questions. “Do you think we made a mistake? Our old mattress was so intimate, that’s what we want our lives to be, intimate and now we have this monstrosity in our room.” I sighed loudly. He laughed. I guess in the end it is just a mattress.
The Junkyard Dog
I had an excellent therapist several years back. She helped me through a very difficult time in my life. We talked about my perpetual single state, the challenges of having a high powered career, the difficulties of unraveling pent up feelings regarding my parents bad marriage. And of course, the anxiety that accompanied all of it.
We did a lot of visualizing and during one meeting we put a form to the anxiety to see if we could deflate the feelings a bit. With my eyes closed I imagined a junkyard dog. It was gruesome to look at and fierce in behavior. Did you see Cujo? This dog was like that but worse. We didn’t stop at the visual, we went on to identify the characteristics of the beast. It was tenacious, aggressive, relentless and mad as all hell. It was one nasty animal.
Immediately I remember saying, “Let’s kill it,” thinking that the mental destruction of this dog would eliminate some of the anxiety in my life at the time. “No,” my therapist said. “You cannot kill this dog. Scary as it is the dog is here to stay. You need to figure out a way to deal with it.”
This stayed with me. I realized that I will never eliminate the anxiety in my life and that it will likely be something I struggle with in varying degrees until I die. But it was powerful somehow to acknowledge that. To understand that I could feel it, work with and live with it.
It’s probably been a decade since that meeting and I can still see my junkyard dog clear as day. It is still one nasty, miserable creature, but occasionally I can get him to sit, or stop barking. Or on particularly good days, to go to some far corner of the junkyard and leave me in peace.
Channeling TK
There are at least a dozen times during my week where I get frustrated or mad, especially in the car. John says I have two different personas, normal Tara and driving Tara. Driving Tara swears often, talks to irritating drivers, and has been known to make obscene gestures. I try to curtail this behavior but bad driving is just so unnecessary.
During these and other times when I find myself not being very kind, or just nice, I try to “Channel TK”, meaning, channel my Mom. My Mom is not a saint, but she has an uncanny knack for finding the best in people and in a situation. She is better than anyone I know at turning something over and finding the positive and she’s done this in circumstances that are just downright awful time and time again.
Now my friends and I all try to channel TK when tough or trying times arise. Not sure it always works but it is a worthwhile pursuit.
Mom, I love you. You are the most interesting character I know.
Huey Lewis & The News
I have no idea why but I recently find myself slightly obsessed with Huey Lewis & The News. Hearing a Huey Lewis song fills me with an inexplicable joy. Truly, I have no way to explain this recent fascination. I have started a Huey Lewis channel on Pandora. I giggle when I randomly run across his music on the retro radio station I sometimes listen to, and I recently looked at his concert calendar.
WTF? Did I like this band that much when they were popular in the 80’s? I can’t remember. All I know is that this music brings me back to a time that was much simpler. Vivid memories rush back when I hear songs like “The Power of Love”. Memories of warm summer days, shorts and bright colors, a time when lyrics were simple and life was easier.
Huey Lewis was raised in Marin County. He went to Cornell University in Ithaca NY. He earned a perfect score on the math portion of the SAT. He has (or had) big hair and a cleft in his chin. I’m going to be downloading his album soon so I can further indulge in my obsession.
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