Pre Middle Age Love

(for all cole's content please visit premiddleage.com)

I’m not sure if it is love leaning against a shiny new 1960’s mustang with horn-rimmed glasses and a man that adores you.

Perhaps it’s the stoic sort of love that takes sunglasses and shades not the sun but the looks staring at a tear-stained face.

Or a door that either lets someone in or lets someone walk out.

But I love love. I love the messiness of it. I love the childlike excitement of it. I love the 1960ness of it. I love the grit of it in a strong woman that wants to be weak and a weak man that wants to be strong.

I love love. I love what it smells like in the morning and in the afternoon when it waits upon a call or a visit or a letter. And then evening love that comes with a moon and maybe some stars and the promise of kisses and whispers and tomorrows and todays and maybe much laters.

I love love. I love how it begins and I love how it ends and that it can take my very breath away with a glance or a thought or a sound or a memory.

In these years, these in between years. These years of not being young and not being old I take love and hold it tight and say yes to it and not no to it and am awed that it still chases after me and dares me
to…

Valentines Day 2011

shoes in my fridge.

(for all Cole's content, please follow along at premiddleage.com now, muahh!)

I phoned Will from outside the car dealership.

Me: It’s a Sunday. Can you talk? Just for a minute.

Will: What happened?

Me: She was just sitting there with her extra large sandwich and her cigarettes and threw the car application at me. What is WRONG with people?

Will: What are you doing looking at cars? We just talked about this. Just last month we talked about how great you are doing, habibi.

And then the tears came.

Me: I went to the movies last night and saw Another Year and thought it was about an old couple in love but it was about their single lady friend who looks just wretched and wrinkled and old. And she doesn’t keep food in her fridge….JUST LIKE ME.

Will: Okay.

Me: And she didn’t have a caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar! JUST LIKE ME.

Will: Ahh.

Me: *tears and more tears and then sobs and more sobs* And I don’t want a car but I left the theatre and knew I had to fill up my fridge with food just so people would think I was normal cause doesn’t everyone have more than orange marmalade, soy, one egg and December milk in their fridge? And then I drove by all the closed dealerships looking for a car cause I need a car so people don’t think…so they don’t think…so they don’t think…

Will: So they don’t think you’re almost forty with no car and no food in your fridge, habibi?

Me: *tears*

Will: You are great. You are doing great. Remember how you told me movies aren’t real life. That real life is real life? Well, real life is real life, Nicolia. (He calls me Nicolia especially when he wants to make a financial point) Nicolia, you are the one I tell people about when I talk about someone growing up. You are paying your debt, you are living on “bread and salt”, you are being a church mouse and within a year you can go back to getting anything you want.

I almost made a 20K purchase because of a feeling I had in a movie. Wonder how often we buy on feeling. Homes, cars, clothes, electronics for you men folk. I walked away from the dealership to get sound financial advice from a friend and thankfully came to my senses. Well, then I got a grilled cheese. Cause that helps, too.

I won’t tell Will about the new navy suede pumps I bought yesterday. Or the black snake skin ones, either. They were on sale. Well, and then an extra 40% off and a coupon on top of that so practically free if you really think about it.

I might put them in my fridge.

Much love,
Cole

Cole's Christmas Card (say that three times fast)

Stories from Skid Row: The Christmas Story

Brought to you by Stories from Skid Row and a precious, little animated girl.
Can I be honest? Uh, when have I ever not been.

God tends to lay thoughts on my heart first thing upon waking each morning. Today was no exception. I heard and felt, "GIVE." It wasn't audible, no but it was heavy and clear and I knew more than I knew anything else today that giving was something I needed to do.

Being the me that I am, I didn't pick up my mail again and had to run to the post office to go get a stack THIS BIG. Thankfully, the lady at the post office handed it to me without judgement for my continued neglect of all things organization. I ran through letter after letter and ad after ad and catalogue after catalogue and came across a huge bill that I was not expecting.  THIS HUGE.

Kick in the gut. Especially during the holidays. Especially when you're in the middle of spending money on book marketing things of the book marketing sort.

I sat at the post office and wept. And not only wept but said to God, "I'm just about done. I've had it. I'm done."  How do you give when you have no money to give? 

And then, I saw this video. There's this sweet little girl with her long hair that makes me cry just thinking about how much she reminds me of me when I was her age. No, I didn't have the long locks til later in life but we share the same animation for all things Jesus and nativity sets. Wait til you see her throw gold and spray perfume. Your heart will melt.

She may not have a bill to pay. Her needs are much greater. She needs shelter and food and warm blankets and the love of people that say, "You matter!" Suddenly, this bill seems terribly insignificant.

Many, many of you have been hit hard with these financial times. And you're paying things and altering your life to live within your means instead of outside your means and I am walking right along side you. I know sometimes it is not easy. Today though. Simply today, remember it's much, much easier than this sweet little girl has it.

And yet in the midst she rejoices in a nativity scene and a promise.

Much love to you as we continue to learn from the very young and very wise,
Cole

What I Wanted to Say.

Brought to you by $3.17 a gallon which I cannot believe seems like a good deal to me.

I was on my way back to take my rental, oh by the way hi...so I was on my way to take the rental back to Enterprise when I realized I needed to fill up the tank so I didn't pay $1,732.99 per gallon to fill it up. 

I'm learning in my old age.  You men are impressed, aren't you?  Continuing... 

So, I go to fill up the car, get out, put my debit card in and do the whole waiting at the gas tank thing that we all do when I noticed the "Push To Speak With Attendant" button.  I stared at it.  I wanted to press it.  Badly.  No, I mean not in the way where you want to ask a question for assistance but in a sort of "Hi, how are you today?  I don't really need help but thought I'd say hi way."  You know.  Like that way. 

I kept looking at the button and then looking inside to see who might answer my request and then wondering if they would call the Crazy Police on me for pressing it for a non gas emergency reason.  Though not certain if one can be ticketed for pressing the help button I didn't want to take a chance.  I'm trying to be responsible and all those sort of pre middle age things. 

Still, what I wanted to do was press it and say hi.

And even this evening.  The grandma that hurt herself last week at the corner market stopped by my office and wanted to thank me for sitting with her until the paramedics came.  She has limited english and I have limited faarsi and what she wanted to say she couldn't.  And what I wanted to say I couldn't.  What I wanted to say was, "I'm glad you're alive and I don't want you out walking around without help and I'm nervous something is going to happen to you and by the way WHERE IS YOUR SWEATER?" 

And my little, taller than me Snarky Brother.  I stopped by his work today and have missed him and felt this really huge need to rush up and hug him even though our family is not much of the hugging sort.  I saw him and he looked Snarky as ever and not in the hugging mood and what I wanted to say was, "I had another seizure last night and I'm so tired of them but just in case one of these is The Big One I want to hug you so that there will be a hug on the record and just deal with it."  I didn't.  I smiled and chatted about nonsense and walked away.

I should have pressed the button at the gas station and talked to the attendant.  Who knows if they were in utter turmoil at that very moment and I could have offered a gas station word of encouragement. 

I should have told the grandma to sit down and found her a blanket and loved on her a bit instead of nodding my head and smiling and having pleasantries that don't amount to much of anything.

And I should have hugged my brother and then called The Elder and told him how very much I love him.  Just because and just in case and just cause that's what you should do rather than not doing it.

What I wanted to say to you all is that I'm indebted to you for reading my words and for loving on me and caring and finding joy and some understanding from the details of my life.

Much love to you as you find the things you want to say and then say them,
Cole

Lessons in Yoga

Brought to you by fake nails. Ten of them.

Reasons to take The Damn Yoga. In no particular order.

Increased energy.
Roman sat down next to me yesterday and when I complained about being so tired thinking I might be pregnant which is impossible since it requires sex he asked, “Maybe it’s that hot flash thing?”

Camaraderie.
I walked up to someone’s desk this week and said, “You didn’t help me pick music so Saturday, you can ZIP IT.” That’s not in most teambuilding books.

Step Relations.
My Stepmother. Even looking at her made me ill this past Sunday. She doesn’t like me and I’m doing my best to love her. I think Yoga would make me adore her. All those endorphins and “I Think My Stepmom Is The Bomb” type feelings will come rushing in when she looks me up and down. I just know it.

Traffic Safety.
I’m certain the practice will center me more and my frequency of hitting cement poles will lesson. And, rather than brake checking close drivers like my niece advises, I will continue to get out of my car and tell drivers to CHILL. Still hoping they are not packin and thus yoga attenders as well.

General Overall Peace, Love and Coleness.
I need this. The sound of someone getting their fake nails filed (who still does that?) makes me want to run into oncoming traffic. That’s when you know you need The Damn Yoga. And when you call it The Damn Yoga instead of Yoga, that’s when you really need The Damn Yoga. I can feel the deep breaths already.

Where’s my mat? I lose it every six months or so. Think it’s under the kitchen sink. Still wish I could spray paint it brown.

Human, full of flaws and moments I wish I was better and not worse,
Cole