Brittney: What’s Next for You?

So Brittney Spears is in the hospital, reportedly for a mental evaluation after a standoff at her house with her baby daddy. I can’t decide if I want to hug Brittney Spears, or shake her.  As much irritainment (new word for 2008) as she provides, there is a vulnerability that makes her escapades tug at your heart almost as much as it pisses you off. The tipping point is that her own kids are involved, and unfortunately, she’s so out of control, her feelings for her kids can’t even keep her balanced.  What’s next for Brittney?  Does she have it in her to figure out her path, or will she turn into a sad, suicidal cautionary tale? 

What’s Next?

The New Year is all about fresh starts, second chances and beginnings.  For me, it’s working toward becoming a successful commercial writer.  Which, in my definition– for this year anyway– means I get to write and get paid fairly for it.  Not looking to make six figures (yet).  That’s next year’s next. What’s next?  For some of my friends, it’s figuring out what comes after being a SAHM.  For some, it’s what’s the progression of their career.  For others, (okay, me) it’s how to lose 10 pounds by the end of February.  So many people I know are going through some kind of transition.  I thought it might be a little easier if we went through it together.  What’s your next? 

Liar, Liar

I tell one particular lie almost every day without blinking an eye. I lie on application forms, on surveys and always, always on the elliptical machine (okay, I tell TWO lies on that one).  I lie about my age.  It started innocently enough—after moving to a new city, I began to realize that several of my friends were younger than me.  Sometimes we’d talk and I would reference Peter Falk as “Columbo”, or the old school dance, the Bump. My friends would look at me with bewilderment, then surprise as they realized I was older than they thought, and now had to reconfigure their perception of me. 

My friends and I are also guilty of perpetuating this conflict.  When we hear that an actress is older than we thought (Sally Field is 60 years old?  Holy Flying Nun, Batman!) we’ll say how she looks good for her age.   As if upon turning the age of 50, she was supposed to have turned into a hag, but somehow has been able to subvert the forces of nature and still look attractive.  You know the world isn’t right when Halle Berry is now categorized not as one of the most beautiful people, but as one of the most beautiful people OVER 40!

One thing I’ve recently discovered, however, is that if I really were the age I’ve been claiming, I would have missed out on a few things.  I’ve only recently started playing tennis like a mad woman, letting my Serena side come out on the court.  Before that, I was still tentative, still apologizing for every mistake I made, still wary of letting that total “leave it out there on the court” mentality to come out. I have more definite opinions about things, and I’m just fine sharing them even before I’m asked.  At the same time, I also have more compassion because I’ve walked in more shoes over time.  I have more confidence now to do what I think is best—for our family, and for me, and not offer as many excuses or apologies.

It’s my life-training program, if you will, that can’t be put on the fast track.  For it’s optimum effectiveness, this portion couldn’t be completed in less than—shall I say it?—44 years.