Yep, I went back to court again. Of course. It has been two months. Why would my ex not drag me back? He wouldn’t want to ruin his ongoing attack against me. My ex is exerting another creative attempt to rip the kids away from me. This has been a constant in his psyche for the past two and one half years.
Since the first attacks, we have both moved to Tucson. (See earlier posts to read what I think about that!) So the mediator was going over the facts and talking about the traffic holding up the children’s exchanges. I mentioned that there isn’t any traffic in Tucson.
That idea seemed to be so startling to the California mediator, that I wasn’t sure if he could picture it. After all, when you are in California for any time at all, the traffic starts controlling and framing your lifestyle and your very thinking process.
I did off the cuff mention that, “Although there wasn’t any traffic, there are incredibly slow drivers who don’t even go the speed limit.”
He wanted to know if that was because people were driving like they are suppose to? He was referring to the fact that no one in California goes less than 80 unless they have to.
I said, “No. It means the average age there is 72.”
He laughed. My ex laughed, but it wasn’t funny. It is true. Seriously, Tucson is crawling with the older crowd. Don’t get me wrong, I like old people, well some of them. My best friend is up in years, actually, right now, all my friends are older than my parents. I relate to them and find them fascinating, but when I walk into business meetings and see no one within thirty years of my age, I start to get itchy.
Where are the X generationers? I know you have to be out there somewhere. “Anyone? Anyone?”
The energy of the older is slow, healing, nurturing, and comforting in many ways, but the longer I find myself bathing and soaking in it, the more my energy starts to boil up. It’s building. Why? I don’t know, but would love it if someone could explain.
This building up is starting to show in my actions. I found an old heavy metal station while I was driving down one of the many empty roads in Tucson. I cranked up the volume and started singing at the top of my lungs; “I hate myself for lovin’ you.” YES!
I could relate to that music. Those words are my words. I feel that feeling to my core. Who couldn’t relate to that? As the song ended, I had a sadness in me that I couldn’t go on the dance floor and let out all my built up angst. I couldn’t rock out like I did when there where other Xers around me who understood that form of self expression.
I am afraid that sooner or later, that rocker chick that is bursting to come out will explode onto the scene of the 72 year olds. How do you think they will respond to that?
