My Love Affair with Keanu Reeves

(For those of us who have ever failed.)
  
   "I know that for my shattered plans, God has better plans.”

My mom sent me that today after I found out my plans (and what felt like my heart) were shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Yes, my mom is amazing.  And don't act like you didn't know I was a drama queen.

I’ve loved Keanu Reeves since 8th grade. Maybe earlier. I learned to kiss by making out with my forearm during his movies. Trust me, Keanu was a very good teacher. In fact, many important life lessons can be learned from this heart throb; well, through his movies anyway.

Point Break
Adrenaline junkie: good. Jumping out of airplanes sans parachute: bad - especially for those with prior knee injuries. I suffer from chronic knee pain, so I find this bit of information particularly impactful.
Lesson: Everything in moderation.

Speed
Relationships based on intense experiences or sex never work. (See Speed 2, where our favorite former FBI Agent is conspicuously absent.)
Lesson: Avoid being taken hostage on a speeding bus in Los Angeles. Even in the HOV lane, you’ll never get above 50. And also, relationships should be based on common values. Of course, this is just conjecture as I have never actually entered into a successful relationship.

The Day the Earth Stood Still
If we don’t take care of our planet, aliens will suck the earth into a black hole.
Lesson: Take a few extra seconds and put your plastic bottles into the recycling bin. Or die. But I’m serious.

The Lake House
Do not fall in love with someone who does not exist on the same time plane as you.
Lesson: I mean, think about it. It’s just not gonna work out.

Dangerous Liaisons
Don’t even get me started…
Okay, FINE! I’ve never actually seen this movie. Let’s not make a capital case about it, okay?

Look, the list goes on and on. Keanu knows his shit. And obviously, he and I would make beautiful babies together. I have a few photo-shopped pictures of said babies in a secret album under my bed, but that is hardly the point of this entry. Let us instead focus on The Matrix, whose lesson is from where today’s entry is derived.

Nobody makes their first jump.
Lesson: Just because you don't make the jump your first time does not mean that all of your worst fears are real:
     You're not good enough. You're not smart enough. You're not going to make it. 
(Not that any of those fears have ever crept into my mind. Obviously.)

I took a serious hit to my ego today. It was more than being passed over for First Class after a few failed attempts at batting my lashes. I tried for something, gave it my all, left everything on the table and it still wasn’t good enough. My best simply was not good enough.

How is this possible? I mean, a bird took a gigantic shit all over me  last week. If that wasn’t a sign, then Lord, you’re going to have to start sending me text messages if you want me to follow Your will.    #findmeonfacebook #andoninstagram

Sigh. Deep, deep sigh. Deep sigh and a few tears and maybe a lump in my throat with a few more tears on top.

If we are to live life to its fullest, we are lucky to know the pain of failure.  This was not my first disappointment. I hope with all of my strength that it will not be my last. I’m not sadistic. I want to live a life that means that I’m always pushing my boundaries and trying for more. Underneath the layers of self doubt, in my heart I know the truth is that I am good enough. I am smart enough. I continue to endeavor to be the Man in the Arena. But for tonight, I’ll lick my wounds and maybe my forearm. Because practice makes perfect. And I know that’s what Keanu would want.

About the time when a bird shat on me.

A bird took a shit on me today.  Two birds, I think.  Explosive shit, like they flew in from the nearby Chipotle.  It landed on my bare arm.  It hit the back of my favorite blouse - emerald green silk that complements my skin like it was crafted from samples of my DNA.  It seeped through the blouse, moisturizing my back like a mud bath on a humid New York City's day in August.  Lastly, it managed to hit three different spots of my black skirt.  Green and white and brown shit; this is what I wore all afternoon.

And I worked three hours later than I planned.

And I felt the weight of -

• all of my anxiety and anticipation, and the stress and the excitement of every detail of every minute of life I have ever lived and every change that will ever come to pass

• biology, working like a tiny dissolving pill in the champagne glass of a model meeting Bill Cosby for a nightcap, seducing my uterus into a rest it will later come to regret

• the laws of physics weighing against my body and making "bra-less" a much less viable option

• the emails I have yet to send

• the TPS reports I need to run

• the life I need to live

• the anxiety... the stress

- pushing down into my shoulders and creeping up the sides of my neck meeting in the soft curve at the base of my skull.

Wine.

Cold, dry wine.

The rowing machine and cold, dry wine.

The rowing machine.  Cold, dry wine.  A spoonful of almond butter for dinner.  My favorite sports bra and Nike tank packed away for tomorrow's workout.  A crisply made bed of cold sateen sheets waiting to be broken.

The anticipation... the excitement.

Multiple birds took a shit all over me today - while I was talking about something real.  I don't know about you, but Nina and I are (jazz scat) feeling good.