In Your Face Burrito Boy!

Friday, May 13, 2011

“In your face burrito boy!”

Next time you are frustrated walk into a random crowd, firmly plant your feet, ball up your fists, turn your face up to the sky and shout, “In your face burrito boy!”  And calmly walk away.  I tried it today.  It was genuinely refreshing.

This morning I was having a conversation with a friend who is also separating from her husband.  He is very controlling down to nearly every bite she puts in her mouth.  He provided her lunch even though she was going to a cook out, she left it in the staff refrigerator.  As she threw it on the shelf and slammed shut the door, that is what she yelled.  It was so hysterically funny, I thought I would try it.

It is equally as satisfying out of context and especially at a completely random moment.  I once had a dream of starting a bumper sticker empire.  Being true to my bi-polar nature, I would naturally start an empire — not a business.  That would be a top seller for sure.  A good friend was going to head the T-shirt division, but we haven’t gotten the empire moving yet.

Another friend jumped the gun and went ahead a produced her own bumper sticker.  Instead of I “heart” my wife, she designed I “bone” my wife.  I was instantly jealous of her cleverness.  Whomever came up with, “Visualize Whirled Peas,” is an absolute hero of mine.  I wish I were that clever.  Today, I decided on a performance piece instead of an actual product.  I borrowed my friend’s frustrated declaration and randomly applied it.  First of all, there were no men (or boys) in the food prep room — just women still steeping in their first cups of coffee.  The bewilderment that filled the room was just enough to get my day started in the right direction.

I am still in recovery from the custody hearing.  I am still a little numb with disbelief that things have turned out the way they did, so a little display of randomly mild insanity is to be expected.  I was portrayed as a substance soaked lunatic, I might as well get a little mileage out of it.  If I have learned one thing in this whole process, it is how incredibly naive I am.  I had no idea that court was as ugly as it was.  I think my future ex found it distasteful as well.  Since our hearing, we have had several meetings about working out an agreement that is mutually agreeable and good for our children.  I am naively hopeful.  In fact, the bracelet I am wearing is an elastic band that says “HOPE” on it.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The lawyer referred to my living as a lesbian as a “reorientation.”  I guess that might be a technical term.  I don’t really feel “reoriented.”  I feel settled, right, calm, “normal” (whatever that is), serene (at times), but never “reoriented.”  I feel more like me than ever before.  You know that moment right after you do that full body stretch you feel refreshed and relaxed all at the same time?  That is how I feel.  I don’t think that is “reoriented.”  Re-oxygenated maybe but not reoriented.

I remember seeing the detail of the leaves on the trees after I got glasses for the first time.  It was a calming relief, but I was still me.  I wasn’t reoriented I was just in focus for the first time in a long time.  In fact, the deterioration of my vision was so gradual that I didn’t know I couldn’t see well until it was corrected.  I guess until I figured out my sexuality I couldn’t live well until that part of me was in focus.  I was still me but with better vision.  Now, I am still me … but with better vision.

This morning when I yelled out in the food prep room, I felt good.  I had no desire to hide out or fit in or disappear into the crowd.  I don’t have to do that anymore.  I don”t need to hide and worry if people think I am not ok because I am.  I figured out who I am.  That is not a bad thing.  That is a pretty darn good thing.  Figuring it out and living it is like putting on the glasses.  The shadowy figures that used to scare you clear up and you can see them with less fear.  You can wear those glasses fearlessly.  They used to say, “boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses.”  — GOOD.  That always made me a bit nervous and uncomfortable.  Now, it makes sense why.

Some girls do make passes at girls who wear glasses.  I say, GOOD!  That’s more like it.  That seems right to me, that seems “normal” (whatever that is!).  It feels right and natural and good.  That’s all.  I am still me and able to understand why I feel the way I feel.  Understanding myself gets me connected.  I finally feel plugged into the world.  I can be really connected to my Higher Power, and I have a lot more peace.  I am still me but instead of existing in a hell I don’t understand.  I live in God’s Kingdom on earth (or at least am closer to it).  I am still exactly me.  I can choose hell or heaven.  I choose the latter having survived the former.

Re-oriented isn’t the right word.  I am not sure what it is yet, but its not that label some snotty oppositional lawyer put on me.  So to him I say, “In your face burrito boy!”  Wow, after all these hours, it is still an extremely satisfying exclamation.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *