Staying Too Long At The Fair

Have you ever been to a fair or amusement park and had occasion to see a child who has been told it's time to leave, but he doesn't want to? The child is in a fit of pique, maybe he's even throwing a rather showy tantrum digging his little feet in as he's taken from what must be the most fun he's had-ever. If you've been the parent in this scenario then you know what comes later is probably a time-out, a pout, a little person who makes himself sick with anger, or is sick from all the excitement and emotions of the day--someone who's clearly stayed too long at the fair.

Josie's post from her "Picking Up Pieces" blog talks about leaving relationships that no longer serve her and it brought to mind friendships in my past that had turned toxic and caused me to leave. I remember discussing this very subject with a friend. My friend stated that she pretty much knew how to end a relationship with a man that had gone wrong , but what do you do when a friendship is over, but you're still involved in it?

I have a theory about relationships, whether love relationships, relationships between employer and employee, or friendships, there are signs when it's time for it to end. It seems to me that friendships are the most difficult because there are no real examples of how to end one. We know how to look for a new job or breakup but how do you end a relationship with a friend? More than likely it drags on until all the sweetness of the relationship is gone until some catalyst causes it to end.

In my early twenties I had friend I met working as a cocktail waitress. She was effervescent and fun, with that somewhat crazy energy that is so typical of girls that age. We went out dancing, drinking, gossiping, shopping, and endless talk about boyfriends or the lack thereof. I was finishing a term at college and she hadn't finished high school, this didn't bother me because I never saw her as "less than", but she saw herself that way.

One day I had to go to school to pick up something and she came along for the ride. As she surveyed my university I felt a shift in her energy, later on the drive home, she was full of disparaging comments about "those people who think they're better than everyone because they're in college". I didn't address the subject with her, after all wasn't I one of "those people?" That was the first time I felt a thread unraveling in the fabric of our friendship.

We continued to be friends for the next eight years; she married and had children, I moved to another city, married and divorced. The girls who had been "best friends" years earlier no longer existed and there was no commonality between the women we'd become. Still, we hung in there like two punch drunk fighters who refused to throw in the towel. When phone conversations with her would end I'd feel like I didn't want to talk to her anymore, but how could I not? We were friends.

Over the years I had watched her other important friendships end badly; people who had been her "best friend" now were cursed. I knew that one day it would be my turn, and one day it was.

As she stood in the middle of the street literally screaming at me and repeating every painful confidence I had shared, I believe I left my body. I had seen this coming years before, this friendship began to die that day at my college but I didn't know how to stop it before now. There was sadness, but there was also relief.

I can see much more clearly when friendships have run their course now, and somehow they don't end with a big screaming match and such deep pain.

I'm not that girl anymore.

Never Too Late To Say Thank You

Most people know the importance of saying "thank you". We express gratitude when receiving gifts, when others do favors for us or somehow make our lives lighter, usually we do this in the moment or shortly after receiving the item and that's the end of it.

I have seen the occasional award show where an actor or actress after reading a long list of thank yous, adds their eighth-grade or high school teacher. I never really gave much thought to that additional thank you but lately, I've been having similar thoughts.

In 1973 I was a sophomore at St. Bernard's High School. I was a happy teenager clearly marching to the tune of my own drummer; managing to have a friend in mostly all the cliques without really being a member of any.

One of the classes I had was Behavioral Science with Cliff Nugent. Mr. Nugent only taught at St. Bernard's that one year, 1973, but his was the class I most looked forward to. In this class opinions ran wild and were encouraged, he promoted self-expression and seemed to revel in observing our developing personalities.

Once, when he informed us he'd be showing us the film "Night and Fog", a truly horrendous film about the atrocities perpetrated in concentration camps, the class went ballistic. No one wanted to see this film, though by this point in school, most of us had. People threatened to have their parents call the school, write letters, yada, yada, yada. He just smiled, rather like that cat in "Alice in Wonderland", and said if we could write a paper with a sufficient reason why we shouldn't have to see it, we'd be excused. No one wrote a paper with a sufficient reason, and we all watched it, and all survived.

Where I'm going with this whole thing is that Mr. Nugent made education fun, alive, and a thing to be desired in that room. I wanted to be there having fun, lively, sometimes even heated discussions with my classmates. I wanted to write those papers, read those books, study those concepts. I felt valued and respected by that teacher, and he made me want to learn.

So wherever you are Mr. Cliff Nugent from Fresno, thank you for that class in 1973. It's unlikely that I'll be winning an Oscar in this lifetime so this will have to do. I don't know if you continued to teach or where your life took you, but you had a gift for teaching that was magical and I'll always remember you and be grateful.

Wisdom Of Life From The Dogs

Some days ago I was ruminating over my readiness to be a pet parent. As I was playing around making a stylized cartoon version of myself, it came to me to put a dog in the picture. The one in the picture seemed to speak to me. Should be interesting to see what we end up with and if he resembles this guy! My good friend sent me this a while back and I thought I'd share it here. It seems apropos. If a dog was the teacher you would learn stuff like: When loved ones come home, always run to greet them. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride. Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy. When it's in your best interest, practice obedience. Let others know when they've invaded your territory. Take naps. Stretch before rising. Run, romp, and play daily. Thrive on attention and let people touch you. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do. On warm days, stop to lie on your back in the grass. On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree. When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body. No matter how often you're scolded, don't buy into the guilt thing and pout. Run right back and make friends. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk. Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough. Be loyal. Never pretend to be something you're not. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it. When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently. I think I'm getting closer :)

I Heart The Internet -Part 3, The Secret

The internet continues to mine gems, it is so much a tool to be used in any number of ways, limited only by the boundaries of your mind.

Perhaps you saw the "Oprah" show some months back when a panel of experts discussed "The Secret", a video that details how you can achieve all of the things you desire in life.

If you've seen or own the video that is wonderful. If you haven't seen it you can view the entire video at http://onetenth.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-is-secret-start-changing-your-life.html or you can just click here.

Gotta love the Internet!

How Trader Joe's Is Like A Drug Dealer

Don't get me wrong I love Trader Joe's; some of their items are truly taste treats that can take a meal from ho-hum to a restaurant experience in no time flat. The tempura vegetables are yummy, the garlic naan is like any I've had in a great Indian food place, "two-buck-chuck" wine is tasty (though in Vegas it's "three-buck-chuck"), and the Double Rainbow ice cream- well there are just no words. No, Joe doesn't love me, or at least my feelings for him are stronger than his for me.

SO and I were on a recent expedition to TJ's; in self defense we'd had a meal prior to the trip and could adhere to the shopping list. Shopping at the Joe's when hungry is a set-up for destruction. We'd crossed everything off the list except for two necessary items: low sodium tuna and Mexican Red Sauce, and after giving the aisles the "fine tooth comb" treatment, I approached the friendly young man at the service desk and inquired about the items.

The Friendly Young Man entered the tuna into the computer and informed me that they were out of tuna in the warehouse and he didn't think they carried the Mexican Red sauce any longer. I was amazed, how could they just not carry it any longer? Two trips ago there were boxes of it in the aisles. I didn't allow SO to purchase the sauce then because we had enough. I'm NEVER going to hear the end of that, but I digress.

As Friendly Young Man searches the computer one last time I remark that TJ's is like a drug dealer, they give you a little taste and get you hooked. Friendly Young Man says no, they're actually worse than a drug dealer because instead of simply raising the prices once you're hooked, they just say "whoops, don't have that anymore". Friendly Young Man is smiling as he delivers this barb.

I stand at the customer disservice desk as the realization sinks in that I'll have to deliver the sad news to SO, no more Mexican Red Sauce. I look down and notice a sheet on the counter, clearly an "eyes only" sheet for Trader Joe's employees, which states something about turning fans into loyalists. I point to the sheet and say somewhat loudly: "having the products you've gotten your customers hooked on is the way to turn them into loyalists!"

As I walk away, Friendly Young Man stealthily removes the sheets from the counter. He's no longer smiling.

I Sing The Body Eclectic

An alien invaded my body and I found myself watching an episode of "The Tyra Banks Show" recently, something that I don't usually do. Once, after a marathon of "America's Next Top Model" I coined the name "Tireda" for Ms. Banks.

This episode was about weight issues and body dysphoria, a fancy name for funky feelings about your body. I am probably like most women on the planet when I admit there's never been a time when my body was "just right" so anything on weight issues gets at least a couple of minutes of my attention.

The show attacked the subject from many sides. The comedian, Ant, did "man on the street" interviews regarding a life-sized, cardboard cut-out of one of the guest's headless bodies. This particular guest hated her stomach, a stomach that was soft, and round and to her, a thing to invest hatred in. "What do you think?" Ant inquired of several different people, all seemed to think the woman's body looked "real" and expressed admiration, one man took the cut-out home he was so enamored.

In another section, Tyra took a young woman over to a large board with pictures of various body parts assembled and challenged her to choose which photos were of her body. This young lady chose the largest pictures and assembled them into a body that looked nothing like the woman beside Tyra. Tyra reassembled the correct photos and showed them to the young lady who was surprised that the reality didn't match the incredibly overweight picture in her mind.

I watched this show with some sadness for the women who were guests; sadness that they were blind to their beauty and that the sum total of their worth had been centered on the size of the jeans they wore.

I still wrestle with this issue, but one of the benefits of not being that girl anymore is the ability to know more times than not, that the size of my heart is what really matters. I am trying to make it bigger all the time.

And The Thought For Today Is...

To the world you may just be somebody...

To somebody you may just be the world.

How Do You Know When You're Ready To Be A (fur) Parent?

When I was a child I had a dog named Floyd, some "Heinz 57" mix who was my good buddy. I was six -years-old, and Floyd was the unwanted puppy from a litter of six; it was definitely love at first sight. Sam, a beagle/poodle mix joined our family four years later and Enzyme, a snow white cat, completed the brood a couple of years after that.

Floyd was a wonderful little dog, probably about 20lbs tops, with a heart full of love and courage like nobody's business. He was quick to turn his butt up for a scratch, and equally quick to bare his teeth and emit a low, menacing rumble if he perceived a threat to his loved ones. Floyd went to doggie heaven when I was 15 and I still get a lump in my throat when I think of him.

Fast forward 34 years later and SO stands fully ready to take on the reigns of pet parenthood, pointing out cute dogs in the street, on TV, and in the paper. I don't feel ready yet. I am the perfect doggie auntie and will make friends with the dogs that pass me on their daily walks but making the leap to owning one, that seems another thing entirely.

I am not sure what the real reason is, somehow when I think of having a pet, what comes to mind is how expensive they are, the training they''ll need, and the change in my freedom.

I wonder how my very low income sole parent managed three pets and a growing child? I've seen many other people, including homeless, who have dogs and seem to have no problems.

Maybe, like having children, you're never 100% prepared. You just have to take a leap of faith.

I still don't fee like I'm ready.

I Heart The Internet -Part 2, The iReply Movment.

Since I began this blog a mere three weeks ago, I have been visiting blogs like crazy and having a blast. There are as many kinds of blogs and reasons for blogging as there are people on the planet.

Some blogs have a party atmosphere, some are soothing, funny, angry, sad - you name it. When you find a blog that expresses like-minded ideas or touches you in some way, it's fun to leave a comment and let the author know that you've appreciated their efforts. What isn't fun is when the comment just disappears into the cosmos; "did they read it?", "do they care?".

This article from "Brown Thoughts", fully describes the iReply movement, a movement that would have bloggers reply to their readers comments. I am joining that movement because I want to say thank you to people who are reading my blatherings. If you are interested in joining the movement too, read the article at "Brown Thoughts", grab the logo, and respond to your readers.
If only everything were that easy!

I Heart The Internet

My dear friend doesn't care for the internet much, she sees it as a device to divide people and uses it minimally. While I love my friend dearly and wouldn't trade her for anything, I also love the Internet.

I just finished watching a video made by a college student in Malaysia, called "Senior Citizens in Malaysia", go on over to http://conancat.com and take a look, or watch it on You Tube. It's a documentary about ladies who wake up at 5:00 a.m. to go line dancing in the park.

These women are having a blast and exercising so they can live life to the fullest, and their "children won't have to worry about them". They follow this up with going home to change and then hang out with their friends. By the end of this film I couldn't stop smiling, and being close to an age that some circles consider a senior citizen, I felt hopeful. If I wasn't on the Internet I'd have missed this gem.

If you knew me personally you'd know that I'm a bit of a talker. I think exchanging ideas, jokes and stories is some of the best entertainment around, my TV addiction notwithstanding.
If that exchange is on the Internet as opposed to in person that's okay. I believe it can unify rather than divide. I may even get up at 5:00 a.m. to go dancing--in my living room.

Favorite TV Show Canceled? I'm Sorry, It's My Fault!

When a new tv show begins I try to give them a good while before I start watching. I have discovered that if a show airs and I enjoy it immediately, there's about a 97% chance it will be canceled.

The latest example of my scary talents is the recent announcement that HBO has canceled "John from Cincinnati". HBO was the pioneer of programming that was outside the box; airing interesting, exciting, thought provoking shows. While it is true that HBO has been demonstrating a more network behavior in the last few years, it wasn't surprising that this show was canceled-I'd been watching it from the first episode.

Anyone ever watch "Hawaii" or "LAX"? I did. How about "Standoff", "Tru Calling", "Dead Like Me", "Huff", "Invasion", "Drive", "The Nine", "Wonderfalls", "Over There", "Joan of Arcadia", "Everwood", "Jericho", "Reunion" "Commander-In-Chief", "Boomtown", "The Book of Daniel"? That's my work.

If you watched any of these shows many of which were left with questions unanswered, mea culpa.

There's a new show coming on soon that looks cute, called "Pushing Daisies". It seems as if it will interesting, funny, and thought provoking. I won't be watching.

Secrets of Las Vegas (2)

SECOND SECRET OF LAS VEGAS:

There are a lot of insects out here!

When I lived in California, I had the occasional ant problem and saw the intermittent roach, nothing a handy can of Raid couldn't handle. In Las Vegas it's a whole different ball of wax, and if you're coming from a sunny, temperate climate, or the only interaction you've had with Vegas is the inside of a casino you're in for a bit of a culture shock.

I haven't see ants around my current home but I've seen them around others and these babies are on steroids; likewise the roaches-BIG. I also should say I'd never seen an earwig before moving here, these I have seen in my home. Pest control is a big, booming, business and an expense that you'd better figure into your monthly allowance.

You'll have any number of pest control services to choose from, they'll paper your doors with those annoying hang tags pretty regularly and the only way you'll know how good they are is trial and error. If they give you service and four days later you've still got an insect party going on there's a problem.

The service that I use, EnviroPro, is the only one I've had so far. The monthly service fee is reasonable, and the service seems adequate. I gotta tell you the real selling point is the technician! This guy came to our home on time, was courteous, friendly and patient as I took him around the home and instructed him on how to do his job, asked before going into the garage or upstairs, took his shoes off while inside our home and washed his hands after service but before handing me papers to sign. When all the services are equal, little things like this mean a lot and make the difference in who to choose.

So, while I won't get a free service or anything cool like that, here's their web address:

http://enviropropest.net/

Secrets of Las Vegas (1)

Las Vegas is one of the fastest growing cities in the U.S., I just moved here from California and let me tell you honey---it's different! Don't get me wrong, I actually love it here, but after living in "everything and everyone is beautiful" California, Las Vegas is proving to be not what I expected.

Let me tell you some of the secrets of Las Vegas, things that you probably won't read in any of the brochures, things that may be more mundane, things you may want to know if considering moving here, things that may surprise or at least amuse you, so keep checking back.

FIRST SECRET OF LAS VEGAS (as compared to California):

If you're a middle aged, plus-sized woman, you can have a career in Broadcasting here.

Now, if you're a twentysomething hottie you could probably give a @#% BUT if you're "not that girl anymore" you just might find it comforting.
In California, the female broadcasters all have to have a certain "look", I'm sure it's the influence of Hollywood. In Las Vegas these women are real, if you saw them in the grocery store you'd barely give them a second look. On the screen they are dressed professionally but they're not as glossy or finished, not as young, and a lot of times not as thin as their California counterparts.

HOORAH! It's no secret that as people age, their bodies change, but in Las Vegas that doesn't have to end your career in the news industry.
The slogan for Las Vegas is "what happens here, stays here", that trend of acceptance is a secret that should definitely be leaked.

Is Hugh Hefner a Fundamentalist Mormon?

Let me begin by confessing that when it comes to television, it's probably time for an intervention. I spent 6 years without a tv by choice but when SO and I got together that was no longer acceptable, suffice it to say I've taken that access and run with it.

I love the show "Big Love" on HBO; I think it's clever and fascinating. "Big Love" is the story of Bill Henrickson, a fundamentalist Mormon involved in a plural marriage, who lives in the suburbs of Utah with his three wives. As polygamy is illegal and not accepted by society, the three wives live next door to each other, their backyards adjoined. The wives "share" Bill on a schedule, and in one episode the poor guy had to resort to Viagra to try to keep up his husbandly duties. The show is riveting as it depicts the feelings of the various members of this family; Bill, wives, and children.

One evening while indulging my tv addiction I happened across the reality show, "The Girls Next Door". "The Girls Next Door" is the story of Hugh Hefner, a fundamentalist hedonist involved in a plural relationship who lives in the hills of Hollywood with his three "girlfriends". Who doesn't know Hugh Hefner? He's had a string of beautiful women in his life over the years and married precious few of them. Hef is in his 70's or 80's and these three young women could easily be his granddaughters or daughters. I wonder what the real deal is with this arrangement?

Is Hef on a schedule with Holly, Bridget and Kendra? Is he downing Viagra, Levitra, or Cialis like so many M&M's? Are they happy or frustrated with this setup? So many questions, but like "Big Love" you'd have to watch several episodes to get the full picture, unlike the HBO show I'm just not willing to devote that much time.

It's A Wonderful Life

Every year at Christmas the old Jimmy Stuart film, "It's A Wonderful Life" makes the rounds on television. If you haven't seen this film, it's the story of George Bailey, a kind man who'd always envisioned he'd do different or more things with his life and who feels so frustrated by the events that have transpired that he decides to kill himself. George's guardian angel, Clarence, shows him how much everyone's lives would have differed if he'd never existed.

It's true it's not yet Christmas, but those feelings of frustration and not accomplishing "enough" aren't only in the movies; while we may not be contemplating suicide we sure harbor thoughts about wasted time.

What if someone could show you what life would have been had you not existed? Who would be impacted? Your family? Friends? Co-workers? Strangers you've done kindnesses for? Charities you've volunteered at or donated to? Love that you've given? Maybe people you don't even know you've touched. Children you gave birth to, lives you saved, encouragement you bestowed, none of that happened because you weren't there to do it.

So just maybe, we've all accomplished more in our lives than we thought eh?

Purses - The New Health Hazard

If you've ever watched your local evening news, you've seen the stories that expose the restaurants with rodent problems, the automotive shops that pad or fabricate charges, you know- news you can use (to upset your life).

I certainly didn't appreciate one of the more recent episodes detailing the cleanliness and sanitation of the bottom of a woman's purse. Now, I am generally a one-purse kind of girl and that purse goes with me everywhere, restaurants, stores, doctors, friend's homes. I sit my purse on the floor, balance it precariously on surfaces in public restrooms, dump it in shopping carts at the store. My purse is like a very dear friend, and I don't take kindly to people disparaging my friends.

So- the news reporter took swabs of the bottom women's bags and sent them to the lab. Why? Who thinks these experiments up? Are these things the result of ideas for a slow news day? Anyway, the results were pretty bad and I hope that damned reporter is happy.

I probably could have figured out that my purse on those surfaces was not that great but I really didn't give it that much thought and now that I know what am I supposed to do with the information? I will not be wiping my purse down with Purell and Clorox Wipes every evening, but by the same token it now takes me 15 minutes to figure out where to put it when I come home every night.

Maybe someone will invent a dippable purse cleaner. Quick, call the local news!

I Know It When I See It-

It has taken me a number of years to admit that when it comes to art, I'm probably not very sophisticated. I've never been one of those people that would stand in front of a monocolored canvas and exclaim about what I see there.
No, I like my shapes to be recognizable, people to look like people and their body parts to be where they usually are.
While my tastes have a bit more class than poker playing pooches, I finally did admit it that I wouldn't be consulted regarding artistic periods any time soon. Imagine my surprise when I noticed my artistic tastes changing.

Upon a recent visit to a rather well appointed home, I found myself gazing at a canvas with various colored geometric shapes and thinking it would look great over my couch! I couldn't have been more shocked. Why, there wasn't a tree, sun, or horse in sight. There was, however, a Picasso which I quite liked, a person with rearranged body parts.

I don't know quite what to make of these new discoveries. What's next, Easy Listening?

My Diet Pill, Myself

When In was 12 years old my mother took me to a doctor to lose weight and thus began what was to be the longest lasting and most elusive goal of my life- the pursuit of the perfect body.

Most American females share this goal and it doesn't seem to matter what our age is or how accurately we see our bodies, whatever body we possess would be perfect if we were only ______ pounds thinner. At the age of 19, the doctor at my university prescribed me my first diet pill, Tenuate, and I found heaven in a tablet. Tenuate combined with the most ferocious of wills allowed me to lose close to 40lbs and then suddenly stopped working! I was devestated because even with losing all that weight I was still not, in my mind, there yet. Back to the doctor who prescribed Pre-Sate, many years later I found that Pre-Sate was actually Phentermine-who knew.

I have been on and off various diet pills over the years and while my logical mind knows they're only a temporary fix, I still hold out hope for the perfect pill. Not a pill that will have you running for the bathroom with "oily orange stools" because with an Alli like that I REALLY don't need any enemies. No, the perfect pill would one that magically makes me want to eat healthy and exercise. Are you getting this drug companies?

Not the Target Audience.

The other day a friend and I had occasion to visit the local mall. After a bit of window shopping we took a seat and engaged in some "people watching".

My gaze swept the area and landed on a girl of about 11 years old and an older woman, most likely her mother, making their way through the crowd. The girl sported something unidentifiable on the top of her head; my friend informed me that this thing was a teddy bear. I looked closer and determined that the thing was indeed, a teddy bear. The bear was of the medium-sized brown variety and appeared to be hanging on to the girl's head for dear life.

I seemed to have missed the memo that announced it was stylish to wear stuffed animals on your head, I am not the target audience for this trend I believe. I have determined from careful ad scrutiny and commercial watching that I am the target audience for: life insurance, ads that appeal to poeple who want to get their funereal affairs in order,and people who no longer have their music from the 70's and 80's and need to buy compilations from Time Life Music.

It makes me grumpy sometimes to be the direct demographic these companies are directing their advertising to. Think I'll go stick a teddy bear on my head.

So What IS The Deal With Gary Coleman Anyway?

Possibly you've seen those CashCall commercials with Gary Coleman as the spokesperson and, if you're anything like me, you've wondered: "what IS the deal with him anyway?"

I find myself watching these commercials where Gary laughs maniacally about not being able to borrow money from his family, or crashes a car as he drives off, or extolling the virtues of CashCall as a means to getting "extra cash" when you need it, and I wonder what is going on with this man.

Yes, he's a far cry from the "whatyoutalkinboutwillis" cutie that used to be to be on television. I'm wondering if he's paying back a couple of CashCall loans, in fact I think that every time I see a new commercial, Gary's incurred a new loan.

I don't want to kick someone when they're down, but I'm just saying...

I'm not that girl anymore...

Hello, I'm so glad you're here! Are you wondering what the title of this blog means?
The title of this blog means that one day I woke up, and I wasn't that girl anymore!

One day, I woke up and:

• I was 49 (Lord! How did that happen?),
• I had gray hairs not only on my head, but in places you REALLY don't want gray hair,
• I made noises when raising from a squatting position and lifting things with even the slightest bit of weight to them,
• I had my own personal heating system,
• I was addressed by the title, "ma'am" and referred to as "that lady" (terms I remember using myself as a child),
• I couldn't walk in heels (I thought that talent was akin to riding a bicycle, but no...),
• I developed an interest in watching "Dr. Phil",
• Everyone was suddenly younger as opposed to older,
• I was invisible. Actually I wasn't really invisible but people seemed to develop an ability to look past or through me.

The invisibility was what told me I was not THAT girl anymore. Now, I don't mean that girl in a Marlo Thomas sort of way but rather, that girl that is noticed, listened to, seen, appreciated for her ability to breath. I wasn't that girl who was young!

If you visit with me awhile, you'll be treated to my ramblings about things I think, see, remember, overhear (you hear a lot when you're invisible) and notice. It won't always be time to play the violins, but it will always be from the vantage point of a woman who's -not that girl anymore!