I've officially been an actively blogging diva for two days now. I wasn't going to blog today after yesterday's extravaganza, but two things have been weighing on my mind. The first was a question posed to me by one of my nearest and dearest friends. When I tentatively showed her the fruits of yesterday's labor (i.e. this blog), she responded in a way that gave me pause for thought:
"Hilarious that you too were that affected by turning 30. Trust me, you're really not old and this decade will fly by... One thing I did notice was that, on your list, you didn't make loving yourself as you are the top priority. Who are you making all these changes for? Yourself? Your family? ... make sure you [make these changes] with respect and unconditional love for YOU. Not for what society or friends and family want, but for what you truly want. Sometimes that takes more work and soul searching than any Zumba class can give:)".In answer to her, you, and (most importantly) myself, I ask another question: why am I going on this year-long journey? Is it out of a sense of denial that, in fact, I am keenly feeling my age and am determined to fake it until I make it out of my 30s in order to swallow my panic at each silvery hair that sprouts from my head? I would be lying if I said that my "Dirty 30" list and this blog weren't partly a way to find significant (or make meaning, darn it!) in my life. I would also be lying if I said that I haven't had a couple eerie nightmares recently about waking up and finding myself trapped in a 90 year old's body, blinking and squandering my life, and having nothing but the cold sweat of regrets on my brow. Yikes -- if I didn't have a nightmare, I'll definitely have a nightmare later tonight!
Sweaty wrinkles (and a-little-more-jiggle-when-I-wiggle than I'd like) aside, over all, I'm very content with who I am and what I've accomplished since 1982. There's nothing that I so fiercely dislike about either myself or my life that I'm chaffing at the injustice of the world for keeping me in abject misery. However, items on my bucket list are itching me somethin' fierce.
**Pardon me while I scratch!**
The year is 2012. The world is [supposedly] going to end in December. Next year, for those who superstitiously avoid black cats and ladders, will feel like the world is ending. And I am 30. So, I think, why not just go for it? -- so long as I keep the idea of doing this journey for myself out of love for myself and my inner child as my primary goal. This year is the perfect time to knock them out of the park to make room for more things for the next decade and beyond. In comparison to many of my colleagues and friends (many of whom had absolute panic attack or became morose when they hit 25 and 30 respectively), I don't see myself as having a post-quarter life crisis. I have no ab-alicious cabana boy rubbing my feet, no flashy convertible in my driveway, no lavish trousseau in my far-too-small closet, and no depleted bank account. What I do have, however, is a year of my time, several fantastic opportunities, and a mischievous glint in my eye!
What I also have, interestingly enough, is a abhorrence of a certain word:
Dirty. Dirrrrty. DIRTY!
The "Dirty 30" is a phrase I've had bantered about for the last couple of weeks. One of my best friends turned this filthy number a week before me and, in another week or so, another bestie will wallow in the mud along with us. But there's something about that dirty word that rubs me the wrong way.
Thanks to the movie Carrie, which is in the process of being remade by the fantastic young startlet-in-training Chloe Morenz (think Kick-Ass and the Hollywoodized remake of Let the Right One In), I associate the word dirty with "dirty pillows" and demonizing the female form. Check out the clip below to see what I'm talking about.
I've always been slightly obsessed with word origins and synonyms -- especially since my students love to play with thesaurus.com with mixed results. (In the words of Inigo Montoya, I do not think that word means what you think it means!) Just a brief foray into the word of etymological research further unpacks my furrowed brow over the word dirty.
Definitions:
- soiled with dirt; foul (uncleanness that is grossly offensive to the senses); unclean.
- spreading or imparting dirt; soiling (filled or covered with dirt, making it unclean or defiled; implied dirtiness resulting from slovenly indifference associated with poverty).
- vile; mean; sordid; contemptible.
- obscene; pornographic; lewd.
- undesirable; unpleasant; thankless.
Synonyms: grimy; defiled; squalid; base; vulgar; low; shabby; groveling; nasty; lascivious; lecherous; rainy; sloppy; disagreeable; dull; dark; sullied; clouded; befoul; begrime; bemire; grime; gross; stain; filthy; smutty; etc.
Idioms: airing dirty laundry; playing a dirty joke on someone; acting dirty; leaving the dirty work for someone else (avoidance); dirty dancing; play dirty (cheat or be underhanded); dirty mind (or filthy novel); dirty rumor; dirty cheat; dirty dog; dirty job; dirty look; dirty word; dirty sheets/linen; getting down and dirty; dirt cheap; dirt poor; etc.
Is it any wonder I'm not so keen on the next year of my life being associated the word?! What lady, diva or not, wants to be called smelly, nasty, gross, smutty, etc.? With that said, amidst all the -- well -- filth, several relevant word associations further explain the purpose of my "Dirty 30" journey.
- I will work hard, not wallow in a metaphoric bog of life's quicksand.
- I will share but not overshare sordid details just for the sake of salaciousness or shock value.
- I will be honest, even if experiences weren't what I expected. (Luckily, I'm not easily embarrassed.)
- I will get more in touch with my earthy side and get out-of-doors as much as possible.
- I will not be sloppy; I shall strive to give it my very best effort AND finish what I start.
- I will keep smut/obscenities to a minimum. (Be forewarned, authenticity prompts some naughtiness!)
- I will delve into what and why I myself feel as "grossness" outside my comfort zone.
- I will love my base self and embrace Ms. Frizzle's motto: "get messy and make mistakes."
Onwards!
~E
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