Workout Barbie with Wings

My friend’s divorce was finalized yesterday. We’ll call her Workout Barbie (WB), and I say that with nothing but love, affection, and a bit of jealous disgust (her legs are vomitously gorgeous and long, while mine look like a hobbit with a bad case of varicose veins). This beautiful friend of mine, who is not only beautiful on the outside, but stunning on the inside, has been a blessing during this very difficult time in my life.

Now, WB has divorced one of the most unintelligent men that I have ever known (he spells “night” “nite”), as well as one of the meanest (he calls her a “whore” and a “cunt” in front of their children). Ironically, she called me after all was signed and done, crying, not for joy, but in sadness. So interesting, even when you divorce a horrible person, it still is a loss, a death, and plain old fucking “sad.” You marry this person expecting to build a life with them, grow old with them, have geriatric sex with them and at the least have someone there to wipe your ass when you’re too frail to do so, feed you when you’re too weak, and remind you of what fucking year it is. The dream is now dead and you have to come to the realization that all you believed in your ignorant, naive youth was nothing but bullshit (or dead fish floating in a glass bowl).

Now, my friend, who wears full make up when she works out and looks gorgeous while she lifts ridiculously large amounts of weight (fucking bitch), in her sadness and through her tears said something so beautiful, something that I have been feeling, but NEVER told anyone. She said, “I feel like I could fly.” Even in these scary moments and in life altering situations, these glimpses of clarity lift you up, make your worries lighter, and you become hopeful. Okay, so the image of a workout Barbie doll flying overhead did pop in my mind…AND I did suggest that she should fly over that mean, pathetic man and take a shit on him. However, regardless of my nasty suggestion and strange visualization, I realized that this must be a feeling many women feel when they make this type of decision. There is this fear, being a woman, a mother, alone, that you might not be able to pull it off. You might fail and not only ruin your life, but the innocent lives of your children who have no say in your decision. I admit that I have terrible images of living in a one room apartment (not that you can’t be happy in one room) with my two delinquent boys who swear all the time (ok, so the likelihood of this actually happening is VERY high if I don’t stop swearing myself). In addition to my offspring coming home early from school for swearing at the principal to their jobless drunken mother, I have an abusive boyfriend who has stolen all my money and beats me. This is the fear we feel deep within our guts. No matter how unrealistic (my boys don’t even say “stupid” because they believe it’s a swear word and the likelihood of a man having ANY access to my hard earned “college graduated with a masters degree” money is like saying that I will never say “fuck” again), we’re still so scared, so very scared. Then we stop, suddenly feel lighter, and we KNOW we can do this. We are strong, independent, and as Joss Stone states in her song Right to Be Wrong, “we’re feeling wings, though we’ve never flown.”

So, to WB, with legs that men have actually attempted to take a BITE out of in a bar (I was there. It really happened! Fucking losers.), I’m so proud to know you, you strong, beautiful, smart woman. I’m so happy you have found those beautiful wings (with fucking muscles…bitch). Happy Birthday…yes, it was her birthday yesterday as well. How symbolic. Wonder if she got spanked?

Song Suggestion for the day: Joss Stone's "Right to Be Wrong" from Mind, Body & Soul.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inWLd_9TlqY to listen to the song.

~G