Carrie Bradshaw

All posts tagged Carrie Bradshaw

On a September to remember (fingers crossed).

Published September 4, 2019 by mandileighbean

life-starts-all-over-again-when-it-gets-crisp-in-the-fall

I know I j u s t updated this blog less than a week ago, but I want to get into the habit of updating weekly. On Wednesdays. Because Wednesdays are for writing. Get it?

And I love starting fresh in September. I became a teacher- in part- because the schedule was so appealing to me. I love feeling like I can start again in the ninth month of the year. That makes me feel like anything is possible.

This September, I’ll be 31 years old. I’m S U P E R excited to say goodbye to 30 (I’ve had a horrible year), but I still have some misgivings about embarking on another trip around the sun. When I bring this up, everyone emphasizes how young I actually am to assuage my fears over getting older. But just how long has “your 30s are your new 20s” been a thing? I’ve been quick to conclude it is a fairly recent development, but now I realize that may only be because I wanted it to be fresh when I turned 30. With one year of my third decade about to be under my belt, I have to ask myself if there is any truth to the clever, little saying, or if it is just a way to help those of us without money or power or fame to feel better about our inescapable mortality.

I’d like to think there’s truth to it, not only because I’m now in my 30s but because as we live, we gain new experiences, which can make us wiser as long as we’re open to that possibility. I get upset because I’m nearly 31 and I’m not married (and not in a relationship, or even close to being in one) and I don’t have kids and I haven’t made it as a writer. And because I understand “Sex and the City” now. Or at least I think I do. It’s hard to tell when Candace Bushnell, the author of the essays that inspired the show, now regrets choosing her Carrie Bradshaw lifestyle over having kids (you can read the article here). And if the gorgeous elegance of Carrie Bradshaw proves to be empty and superficial, what am I doing? In my darkest, loneliest moments, I convince myself that it is too late, that I’ve been living a lie by clinging to an empty promise of grandeur sold to me by the mass media.

But that’s kind of bullshit too, isn’t it? I mean, I’m only 30. I have half a century to live. Have I really missed any shots at anything? Thus why I’m declaring this a SEPTEMBER TO REMEMBER! I will not fear turning 31, but I will embrace it by accomplishing a few goals:

  • lose five pounds
  • submit a polished entry to the Owl Canyon Press Hackathon
  • finish revising Moody Blue
  • hold a contest on this blog at the end of the month

What are your goals for September? Are you getting any writing done? What are your thoughts about aging? Comment below and let’s have a conversation.

 

On older but not wiser.

Published January 31, 2019 by mandileighbean

As people age, we’re supposed to get smarter – or at least jaded by life experiences, which are assumed to be universally disappointing. The weird thing is that no one wants to grow up. No one really wants knowledge or to face consequences or be responsible. I guess I’m aiming for a happy medium. Last night, I wrote in my journal that I wanted to be Carrie Bradshaw from “Sex and the City.” I think she’s an appropriate role model for a woman of 30. She’s fiscally irresponsible and endearingly stupid when it comes to men, but she respects deadlines and is a writer. So maybe I’m just validating her picture on my fridge, but it’s interesting to think about, isn’t? There’s this pressure from social media to be altruistic and to be who you needed when you were younger, but just because we’re older, do we stop needing people? Shouldn’t we just be the type of people we think we need?

Do we even know what we need?

Being a human being is hard at any age. I don’t think it gets easier as we get older, but I think we develop a better perspective and that can change our attitude towards growing up.

I’m about a third of the way through final revisions for my manuscript, MOODY BLUE. The goal is to send it to agents I spoke with at the conference in June next week. Wish me luck!

carriebradshaw

#2.2019: Hidden Away on the Inside of a Jacket

The sky was an uninteresting shade of gray. Michelle eyed it warily through the kitchen window as she let the faucet run, waiting for the water to get warm before she started the dishes. She had removed her rings, her engagement ring, her wedding ring, and the blue sapphire with the gold band she had inherited from her grandmother, and placed them carefully on the window ledge above the sink. The windows looked out over the backyard, an especially desolate scene at the end of a bitterly cold January. Thinking of warmer and greener climates, she sighed as the front door was swung open.
Michelle spun to see William entering the home, closing the front door firmly behind him against the rising wind. On the television earlier that day, the meteorologist had looked very serious indeed, with his shirtsleeves rolled above the elbows, as he warned of the impending squall. Michelle Googled the definition on her phone and was glad she had taken the day off. Her fever had been mild and her cough had not returned, but a day spent mostly beneath the covers had done her a world of good. She hurried to William, smiling, and offering to take his coat. “Is it bad out there?” she asked.
William nodded, blowing on his hands as he rubbed them together. “Yeah, and it’s getting worse.” He kissed her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
Michelle kissed his lips. “Much better. I probably would have survived a day at the office, but traveling in this cold also could have knocked me right back on my ass, you know?”
“You never take days off anyway. You deserved it,” William said and squeezed her shoulders gently as he passed into the living room. He sat to take off his shoes and Michelle turned to the closet to hang his coat up for him. “Is there beer in the fridge?” William asked as his voice sounded farther away. Michelle assumed he was on his way to the fridge.
“Of course,” Michelle called. She hung his coat and smoothed it lovingly with her palms. It was a stylish, expensive coat Michelle had bought William for his 35th birthday. He looked absolutely perfect in it, and she was glad she had married a handsome man. She thought about his strong body and full head of hair, but as her hands passed over the coat, she felt a lump. Michelle was worried William had left his car keys in his pocket, but digging her hands in the soft fabric revealed nothing. His pockets were empty.
Determined to find whatever it was, Michelle dug her hands into the pockets on the inside of the coat and on the left side, she retrieved a small, velvet-covered box. A box that held jewelry, specifically rings. Ecstatic that William had thought of her, had purchased her a special gift because he knew that she wasn’t feeling well, Michelle bounded into the kitchen. “And who is this for?” she asked in a playful singsong.
William had been standing in front of the fridge, guzzling a bottle of beer. When Michelle walked in with the box, the color fled from his face and he sputtered beer across the kitchen. He looked terribly guilty and Michelle felt terribly stupid once she began to understand. When William didn’t answer, Michelle asked the question again but she employed a very different tone. “Who is this for, William?”
William’s posture crumpled and all he said was her name in a pathetic kind of whimper.
Michelle chucked the little box at William’s fat head and moved to the front closet. She grabbed her boots and slid them on, and she shoved herself into her winter coat. She was digging through the bowl that kept their keys by the front door when she heard footsteps.
“Where are you going? It’s supposed to squall,” William said.
“Like you give a shit,” Michelle spat. She found her keys and was out the door before William could say another word. Michelle started driving to her mother’s house but didn’t get very far before the wild, winter winds and snow began to pile up. She had to pull over because she couldn’t see where she was going. Whether it was the inclement weather or the tears in her eyes, Michelle waited for the squall to pass before she continued away from the home she shared with William.

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