Skip to main content

The Female Jerry Maguire

 Have you ever heard of the idea that if you don't know who the crazy person is in your family that it's probably you?  Or who the loud nut of your crowd is?  Or maybe the drama queen/king?  The fact is that if you're not sure who the stereotype or trope belongs to, chances are it's probably you. 

I know mine.  Although it may have taken me years to figure it out.  

I'm the female version of Jerry Maguire.

I'm a little bit cute and charming.  Pretty good at my job.  Pretty good at my friends.  In some ways successful and in some ways a mess, but overall, have a pretty good outward appearance.


The people in my pool of heterosexuality like me.  I have no trouble getting dates.  One might even call me a bit of a serial monogamist.  But do I have trouble making it last?  Do I have trouble falling in and out of love?  Well, that might be another story.


Do I sing in my car and dance to my victories?  Do I write insane think pieces and copy them for all my team members to read? Am I full of too many ideas, too many emotions and just well.....too much?  Am I a little bit insane but still insanely loveable?


Do I fall down desperately and terribly?  Do I let people around me see the mess I'm in?  Do I have someone like my client Rod Tidwell tell me that I'm hanging on by a very thin thread?  All of this.  Every bit of it. Sadly.  Beautifully.  Without apology and without discretion. 


Do I learn my lessons?  Do I make friends through adversity?  Do the haters watch me rise up from my own ashes?  Do I show up at the end with all the right words?  Do I win the love of my beloved?  Of the kiddo?  The respect of my peers?  Of my mentors?  Do I become the best version of myself while everyone watches with fear, respect and embarrassment?

Could be.  Could be.  I think I'm getting closer every day.  I think I would make Jerry proud. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Reclaiming Your Childhood: Priceless

 This story might take a minute to tell. Bear with me. When my sister and I were little girls, my mother took us to a large baptist church in town. Even as a child, I never remember feeling welcome there.  But I do remember the lovely older couple that kept my Sunday School class. They gave us saltines and kool-aid, and I remember thinking they would be nice grandparents to have. At Christmastime, the Sunday School class was set to have a random gift exchange. Every child was supposed to bring a gift that could be exchanged with any other child.....no specific gift designations.  I received the gift of an Avon 7 bead necklace which was very popular at the time.  I loved it so much and was thrilled to have it!  I was somewhere between 5 and 7 at the time. (Back in the 1970's and 80's, Avon was a cosmetic company that was also known for it's inexpensive jewelry.  I couldn't find a price on what this necklace would have cost back then, but apparently there is ...

My Week with Rumor

 My dog Rumor was an experiment.  A trial offer.  And all parties knew that going in.  Except for maybe Rumor. Rumor was an outdoor country dog.  His given name was Ruger (named after a firearm if you don't know, I didn't) which made sense for a dog raised in hunting country.  He was a stray that came to live with a loving family at about the age of 1.  He lived outdoors, slept in a garage crate at night, frolicked with an older dog pack and had a lovely life. We think he was about 4 years old.  He had been neutered, had vet care and was by no means a "rescue". His dad offered Ruger to me on a give-it-a-try basis.  He knew I wanted a dog. He told me Ruger would be sweet to me and also be my protector.  He was right on both counts.  He told me if it didn't work out, I could bring Ruger back to him and his wife.  I could tell they were a little sad when they dropped him off.  It made me glad to see that Ruger came from such ...

NYE for $200, Alex

 Can we all just agree that New Year's Eve is the worst of the string of winter holidays?  I would even go so far as saying it's THE WORST of all the holidays.  I loved when Stanford Blatch defined a party as feeling very "forced festive".  To me, most NYE parties feel that way.  The idea that this is a big year-end blow-out and we'd all damn well better make it awesome! The reason I hate NYE is because it combines two of things I most hate about celebrations: cold weather and crowds.  Plus it's during a time of year when everyone has already spent all their money.  AND you usually have to the leave the house.  ADDITIONALLY, you have to stay up late.  It's a big F.U. from me on all this.   I would dare say that some of my happiest New Year's memories have been spent at home in my pajamas with either my child, an S.O. or happily alone.  I remember one unforgettable year of moving into a 3rd floor apartment on NYE.  I rememb...