Remember Me and Diana Ross

newyorktheater.com

If you would have asked anyone back in the old days, say in my twenties, is Gina a spontaneous person? They would have replied, “Oh yeah! Hell, yes! She is!!!”

Being spontaneous seemed automatic, something I was compelled to be, and I valued it about myself. I was that, adventurous, and carefree, too.

Fast forward through my adulthood.

If you asked anyone now who has known me over the last twenty years, or so, that very same question, they would reply, “Well yes, sometimes she can be.”

What happened? Where did that person go? Why did she stop being that way?

There is a simple answer. She made some choices along the way.

There have been more “I wish I could…” “I would have liked to…” “Darn it, I missed the opportunity to…” than I can possibly count on my fingers and toes combined with yours. In my mind, I actively traded spontaneity to marry a fantastically fun and wonderful man, have two children, and raise them as best as we could. All noble and satisfying, yet intensely time consuming pursuits, marriage and childrearing, that I wouldn’t trade for the anything. I don't look back with any regret.

It's called compromise, which I also fondly labeled "you can’t have everything" syndrome.

And even now, with my children currently away at school, and the rather long leash my husband provides for me to pursue my personal interests, the opportunities for spontaneity don’t come along as regularly as they used to, should, or at least as often as I would like. 

That is until I found myself walking with a friend down the streets of Chicago’s theater district last week. Up on the giant, mesmerizing marquee of the historic Chicago Theater was:

[blink, blink, blink]

TONIGHT

DIANA ROSS

[blink, blink, blink]

“This is the first concert I EVER saw back in 19XX,” I wistfully reminisced. (Yeah, I’m not going to mention the year except to say I was in 8^th grade.)

“Let’s go. We should go. What do you have to do tonight anyway?” my friend immediately said.

“Nothing. I have nothing really to do tonight.”

So we pushed through the entusiastic crowd milling around the street front, slapped down our credit cards, and bought the last two best seats in the house. Only thing left to do was compose a text to “home” to explain where I was, and what I was doing. It went something like this:

“Guess what I’m doing tonight?”

“Going out to dinner with me?”

“NO! I’m going to see DIANA ROSS!!!”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I LOVE her!!!"

"I didn't know that."

"Of course, I do! I’ll send you pictures!”

So from the first row center in the balcony, I danced and sang at the top of my lungs without stopping because I knew all of her songs. I always had. She changed her outfit four times, which she always had.

And I longed for the concert to go on forever because I felt a little bit more like the real me than I had in a long time, if only for one night.

**************************

Some of my favorite songs:

 “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”, “Reach Out and Touch (Somebody’s Hand)”, “Theme from Mahogany (Do You Know Where You’re Going To)”, “Love Child”, “Upside Down”, “Love Hangover.”

"Remember Me"

Bye baby, see you around

Didn't I tell you I wouldn't hold you down

Take good care of yourself, y'hear

Don't let me hear about you shedding a tear

You're gonna make it

You're gonna take it

Remember me as a sunny day

That you once had, along the way

Didn't I inspire you a little higher

Remember me as a funny clown

That made you laugh when you were down

Didn't I boy, didn't I boy

Remember me as a big balloon

At a carnaval that ended too soon

Remember me as a breath of spring
Remember me as a good thing

My New and Improved Valentine's Day Outlook

Stuffpoint.com

In preparation for writing today, I went back to see what I wrote on Valentine’s Day last year. There were probably only four of you who read it (or my blog in general) back then and understood my thoughts on the “big” day. I do remember being a little grouchy about the whole thing.

I prefer random displays of affection.

Spontaneous anythings on an otherwise nothing day.

Grand gestures? Not necessary.

Plus, I don’t like being told what to do (like celebrating something just because someone say so) but last year my feelings for, arguably, the sweetest day of the year were quickly changed the moment my doorbell chimed in the middle of a purely average day. That memory has been tucked away, with pleasure, since then.

So I woke up this morning, very early I’ll add, to find myself excited for today. It was unexpected because, as I said, this day doesn’t hold any more weight than any other day of the year for me.

I have a confession to make though. I’m also feeling guilty about being excited.

I’ve been asked on a date, a rendezvous for dinner at an Italian restaurant in the city, when we usually stay home and I cook. It’s always exciting to be in the city. It's equally exciting to be on a date.

I bet there will be a heartfelt (more likely inappropriate) card for me with handwritten sentiments inside. I love that.

And I think there will be a gift…

But we don’t “do” gifts for Valentine’s Day.

How do I know this?

I was looking everywhere for the PINK tickets I bought last fall (which I paid $250 each and are not going for $800 a piece) since the concert is quickly approaching. And I looked everywhere. I tore my desk apart. I tore his desk apart. Oops!!!

(I lose things. A lot. This is not a surprise to anyone who knows me or reads my blog. I don’t like it. It stresses me out but it’s me. Part of living with me is knowing and understanding that I spend time almost everyday looking for something (usually important) and it’s gotten worse since I hit my head last summer)

That was yesterday afternoon and I’ve purposely stayed away from the family room, which houses his desk. I’m ignoring it as best as I can because I don’t want to look again to see if it’s gone.

What if it’s like in the movie “Love Actually” where Emma Thompson’s character finds a necklace in her husband’s coat pocket and gets a CD instead for Christmas?

What if that happens to me? 

What if he took it to work for someone else (the silver box from a store he doesn’t usually frequent but has lots of things I love) and at dinner he only pulls out a card?

That’s why I’m feeling guilty. I busted his surprise. It was a mistake. No, REALLY!!!

Obviously, I know it’s for me (it’s gorgeous). It is a wonderful, unexpected gesture that means something to him. He will want me to be surprised and just as excited. He knows I don't/won't expect anything.

I want his eyes and his heart filled with anticipation and excitement as he presents me with the box. I don’t want to burst that bubble or see his disappointment that I found it ahead of time.

I’ll be doing the right thing by not saying anything, right?

wallpapersdb.org (This looks blissful, doesn't it?)

Have a fantastic day. However you choose to spend it.