Sunflower Proud

Well over a decade ago, in a grungy apartment in Morgantown, a friend dubbed me "Sunflower." You see, two of my friends would sometimes refer to themselves, half-jokingly, as "Tiger Lily" and "Black-Eyed Susan." Silly, I know, but it suited them. Anyway, one day my friend (the Tiger Lily one) said, "You have to be Sunflower." And it stuck.

Years later, I am seeing how appropriate it is. At the time, Tiger Lily didn't even really know me that well (I was closer to Black-Eyed Susan). But apparently she knew enough about sunflowers. That they have different faces and appearances, for example. Or that many are awkward-looking. And especially that they need a lot of encouragement from something bright and warm in order to lift their faces and show themselves. But when they do, they can be wonderful and useful, even beautiful.

Those friends and I still joke about it, and one of them will sometimes say, "So I said to myself, 'Black-Eyed Susan...'" And to those two friends, I'm still Sunflower. Even on days when I feel so sad and beaten down by circumstances on the path I chose, I can still remember that I have it within me to grow, to stand tall and face the sun, and to radiate and reflect something beautiful.

Ketchup

I wonder what kind of cutting apparatus are used to make tomatoes into ketchup? Okay, I don't really. In my head, though, I'm picturing a lovely ripe tomato being stabbed in the back.

Gah, enough with the thinly veiled metaphors, woman...

So, yeah, I'm being divorced. It hurts and I'm pissed and I feel completely screwed over. So many of you have been there and lived to sing the song, and I know that I'll make it through this, probably better than I was before.

Shouldn't the promise of that be enough to get me through these days of pain, when I'm feeling worth little more than a smashed piece of fruit?

The answer to that question is yes. The promise of hope and betterment should be enough. And really, it is.

Cue Spacehog's "In the Meantime," this moment's musical equivalent to a big funky question mark. How do you begin the begin again when the motivation to do so is nil? That's not a rhetorical question. I need a life during and after divorce. Where do I start?

It just occurred to me that it's going to take a lot of hard work. Not the answer I was looking for, but it makes sense.

Okay. So today, the work must begin.

Screw ketchup. I'm gonna make salsa and plant more seeds.

Sad Tomato

Yes, it's from an REM song (on what I consider one of their saddest and angriest albums). And yes, it was originally a reference to Courtney Love. But "sad tomato" seems to fit me today. I'm no Ms. Love (please), and though I am a huge REM fan, I'm not even really talking about that song. Today I just feel like a round, red vegetable, somewhat squashed and mushy.

Ever felt that way? Like not even good enough to go into a salad for one.

Okay, not a hella great first impression I'm making, I know. It's not like this every day, trust me.

So, today I took my little man for ice cream after school, and the radio was on a pop station, and can I just say, it was like desperate-women-songs hour, or something. I heard "White Flag" by Dido, immediately followed by "The Tide is High" by Blondie. Thank goodness I found the humor in it or I would have been crying in my kid's soft serve.

By the way, no disrespect to Dido or Debbie Harry, both of whom rock. But sometimes even I can tell when it's time to give up...
Divorce sucks.

Here's hoping that tomorrow will be plums. Or cherries.