Slowly turning my brain to mush

We watched last night’s Golden Globes with the kids… I don’t know why we sat in front of the idiot box all night. Marisa had it on when we got home and we just kind of got sucked into it, I guess. (I have a nasty habit of doing that. If it’s off, I’m more than happy. But I’m like a moth to a bug-zapper… I can’t help but be drawn in by the flashy lights.) As each award was presented, I would expound on all the things I knew about the presenters or award recipients from the drawer in my brain labeled,” Mindless Tabloid Gossip About Famous People.”

“She’s been married to that guy for 4 years and they have 2 kids even though they still look like teenagers themselves.”
“He cheated on her with that other actress and left her when she was 7 months pregnant with his child.”
“His previous wife died and he married her and now she’s raising his kids.”
“She just got sued by her former manager for reneging on a film about tater tots.”

Okay, so I made the last one up. But looking back on last night, I swear I could have been Steven Cocojaru giving the red carpet rundown on all the stars… except without the kidney problems and bad hair and twice the cattiness.*

Some of the awards I thought were well deserved. One of those went to Felicity Huffman for her portrayal of a transgendered person in TransAmerica. In her acceptance speech, she “salute[d] the men and women who brave ostracism and life on the margins to become who they are.” At this, Mike nudged me.

“That’s kind of how I see you.”

What? I think the comparison is a little exaggerated, being that I know nothing about the “ostracism and life on the margins” that a transgendered person goes through, but I thought about why he seems to have this opinion of me. Many times, he has told me he admires the way I live my life. He likes the fact that I don’t try and live by other people’s standards. He likes how I treat people and how they seem to gravitate toward me because I make them feel good. As I struggle through working full-time at a job I find mind-numbing, going back to school to pursue my dream career, clawing my way out of financial distress and dealing with people who try to label and categorize me, he is proud of who I am and how I deal with things. And I like who I am. I like that I’m an independent person. I like that I am at a stage in my life where I know who I am and I like myself and that assuredness makes me confident and unafraid of what life may through my way. I don’t know about braving exile and loneliness, but I guess we all face our own personal firing squads to become the person we can look at in the mirror and be satisfied with – damn what everyone else thinks.

Although hearing Mike say he’s proud of me did give me warm fuzzies.



*I swear I have a lot more important info rattling around in this head o’mine. The red-carpet half truths are a result of having unlimited internet access for 8 hours a day.