Becky's Greatest Hits Vol. II

 I saw Brokeback Mountain in a theater by myself.  At the time, very few people knew what an incredible film it would be.  My husband of the moment drove me to the art house theater and had a few beers next door while I watched.  Another solitary lady was sitting near me.  We sobbed and looked across at each other a few times....an unspoken understanding between us. Over the years, I've gotten used to doing a lot of things on my own.....eating out, traveling, driving long distances, shopping, even sometimes going to some local events.  Sometimes I know I'll run into someone I know, so I don't mind making the lonely lady entrance because I'm sure I'll meet friends soon enough.  Other times, I kind of welcome a quiet alone-time experience.   I once even took a weekend trip by myself which I called my Mommy Reading Retreat.  I rented a cabin by a lake, stocked the fridge and didn't leave for 2 days.  I slept late, ate junk, sunbathed ...

  There's something about a man asking you to dance.  You feel chosen.  He didn't pick her.  He picked you. There's something about a man asking you to marry him.  Or even saying he wants to marry you.  Someday.   You feel honored.  There will be no other after you. There's something about a man saying he wishes you would or could have had his babies.  It's the greatest compliment.  He wants to carry on his life through you. There's something about the way a man can exalt a woman with his words.   Whether he means them or not. They are beautiful words. They are magic. Be careful of them. 

 Even though I would not consider myself religious or even spiritual, I keep this in my bag and carry it with me daily.  That explains the creases.  Written on the back are thoughts, dreams, hopes, wishes.....or I suppose, we can call them prayers.  I used to think on these things and hope for them to come true.  Many of them have.  I carry them with me to remember. A friend once told me that for a non-religious person, I talked about karma a lot.  It's true.  I often think about karma, ideas of fate, retribution, conscience, consquences and human existence in general.  I often wonder if I'm doing or have done the "right thing".  I wonder if I've made apologies or amends to bad choices.  I wonder if I've taken the right path.  I wonder if I've kept my integrity intact.  Sometimes yes, sometimes no.   I once confessed a boatload of bad deeds to a very strong and very intelligent feminist in my life.  I asked ...

 

 When you're going through something bad, spend some time alone.  Allow yourself to cry, wear dirty pajamas and eat whatever you want.  Don't worry about how you look or who you offend.  You're in your own space.  Do you. When you're going through something bad, reconnect with people from your past.  They knew you before you knew yourself.  They'll help remind you of who you are. When you're going through something bad, be easy on yourself.  Forgive yourself.  Own what you did.  Don't own what you didn't do. When you're going through something bad, listen to a lot of heavy metal.  Preferably from the 1980's. When you're going through something bad, lean on the people in your life that you know you can count on.  Friends, family, coworkers, a partner, kids.  The people who understand you and know what you're like everyday.  The people you don't have to perform for.   When you're going through something bad, l...

 Let's start with confessions...... Confession #1: I was never a Riot Grrrl.  Even though I was the perfect age and demographic, it just wasn't my thing.  I didn't have that kind of anger.  Confession #2: I never really dug Kathleen Hanna.  And I'm actually still on the bubble with her. Confession #3: As a writer myself, I understand how a memoir will always be your way of telling  YOUR side of the story. Confession #4: As wacky as she is, I'm Team Courtney for life. All this being said, this is a great memoir.  I recommend listening to the audiobook instead of reading to hear Kathleen's voice and raw emotion in some parts.   Her difficult 70's childhood, late 80's college education and 90's punk rock Pacific Northwest lifestyle are either relatable, memorable or terrifying. I had a different kind of life myself.  I grew up and went to college as more of Lilith Fair feminist.....let's all hold hands and sing "Closer to Fine" with the I...