Martina does it again...

Martina McBride is one of my favorite country singers. I've lived through a storm and a half and I'm still standing. It's Friday, WOO HOO!

"This one's for the girls"

This one's for all you girls about thirteen
High school can be so rough, can be so mean
Hold onto, on to your innocence
Stand your ground when everyone's giving in

This one's for the girls

This is for all you girls about twenty-five
In a little apartment, just trying to get by
Living on, on dreams and spaghetti-o's
Wondering where your life is gonna go

This one's for the girls
Who've ever had a broken heart
Who've wished upon a shooting star
You're beautiful the way you are
This one's for the girls
Who love without holding back
Who dream with everything they have
All around the world
This one's for the girls

This is for all you girls about forty-two
Tossing pennies into the Fountain of Youth
Every laugh, laugh line on your face
Made you who you are today

This one's for the girls
Who've ever had a broken heart
Who've wished upon a shooting star
You're beautiful the way you are
This one's for the girls
Who love without holding back
Who dream with everything they have
All around the world
This one's for the girls

Yeah, we're all the same inside (same inside)
From 1 to 99

This one's for the girls
Who've ever had a broken heart
Who've wished upon a shooting star
You're beautiful the way you are
This one's for the girls
Who love without holding back
Who dream with everything they have
All around the world
This one's for the girls
Yeah, this one's for the girls

and this one, "Wild Angels."

Between the perfect world and the bottom line
Keeping love alive in these troubled times
It's a miracle in itself
And we know too well what that's about
Still we made it through, only God knows how
We must've had a little help
(Must've been)

Wild Angels, Wild Angels
Watching over you and me
Wild Angels, Wild Angels
Baby what else could it be

Well it must've been hard, it must've been tough
Keeping up with crazy fools like us
'Cause it's so easy to fall apart
And we still break each other's heart sometimes
Spent some nights on the jagged side
Somehow we wake up in each other's arms
(Must've been)

Wild Angels, Wild Angels
Watching over you and me
Wild Angels, Wild Angels
Baby what else could it be

There are some nights
I watch you while you dream
I swear I hear the sound of beating wings

Wild Angels, Wild Angels
Watching over you and me
Wild Angels, Wild Angels
Baby what else could it be

All this time...

...I've been wanting to be my mother. Married at 26, first child at 28. Or at least married by 28. (That was my original goal.)

Those anniversaries passed.

...so then I wanted to be my grandmother, married in Brazil, divorced and then married to my grandfather at 36, had my mother when she was 40 (And that was in the 1940s!).

I'll be 36 in less than six months...

...then I thought, I'll be Aunt Margaret, who eloped with Uncle Ed when she was 50 and after he died, she was a rich widow and endowed my mom and aunt with trips to summer camp, magazine subscriptions, and the like.

And I've resented my sister, who is shocked that at 25 she is not married. I think, she better not get married before me--the whole Rachel/Leah story, the "fairy tale" oldest daughter must marry first syndrome.

And I've made a game of counting: pregnant women, engaged women, newlywed women. They are all around.

But I forgot someone in this mix: Me.

What do I want? And what is life handing me? And what will I do with the mix? More importantly, how do I love where I am and love where they are at the same time?

Inevitably, I will turn the dial on the radio and catch the end of Rascal Flatts singing "God Bless the Broken Road (that led me straight to you.)"

Inevitably, I realize I am glad to be single in this moment. To be childless. To be Auntie Sarah Louise.

It feels good to be happy in my skin. And it feels good to stretch my legs and walk. It feels good to be ME.

When I was seventeen, it was a very bad year. When I was twenty four and twenty five, too. When I was twenty eight, I was learning how to live with psych meds and weekly therapy sessions. And then there was the drought. But now I'm thirty five. And I am glad to be alive. To have a job I love most days. To have a garret I adore. To have a trusty twelve year old car (that's paid for!).

And so I'm in no rush. Which feels absolutely wonderful (and absolutely foreign and scary, too.)

************

If you went to see Ratatoille (I cannot spell it, I refuse!) and are in the mood for another culinary delight, watch Mostly Martha (it's in German, so mind the subtitles.) The American remake is coming out this summer--I think it's called No Reservations with the chick that married Michael Douglas. (Catherine Zeta-Jones.) (Warning: it is a chick flick, and you will probably want your trusty Kleenex box nearby.) (But it's good crying.)

I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Perchance to dream, and SLEEP. And to wake up tomorrow. N'at.