Thursday, June 30, 2011

Fed & Now, Fired Up



Got home this evening with the strongest desire to shut my mouth, fondle the remote and just quietly shut down each one of my stimulus switches one after the next. Turn off the senseless chatter. The “can I help you?” grin. The self imposed newsletter stresses. The head full of splintered plans for the rest of the week. The tightness in my shoulders and the sharp deep breaths that have been reminding me that I don’t do anxiety well. Feels like I’ve yet to come up for air since the beginning of the month, been spinning in this twister of visits, celebrations, long hours at work, travel, dinners, marketing for the store, emails, text messages, facebook statuses and the million tiny catnaps that stood in where the illusive sleep should have been. Crazy, not bad crazy, but crazy still.

Silently buzzed around my kitchen, scrapping plates and stuffing leftovers away in storage containers, wasn’t until the dishwasher was loaded that I noticed that the glass of wine….the one I had poured to drink with dinner, was still full, sitting in a puddle of its own sweat, generated while the cold liquid waited for me to notice it was there. Damn, even wine seems too much to manage right now….how freaking sad is that?



Bone tired, head weary and completely exhausted, this is not how a normal person should feel after a month that has essentially been The Summer of Sam, which is to say that I have been positively showered with affection, adoration and people coming just to visit with me. I don’t do this center of attention shit very well. That or the combination of that with a very short staff, (that is to say we don’t have enough people, not that we are tiny people or anything) and the reality that is this market right now…..busting your ass three times as hard for less return, has left me feeling spent but mostly, I’ve felt like something was missing.

Fully intended on writing a post, not so much that I fear folks are waiting to hear whatever insignificant drivel I wish to yank on about as much as I miss, painfully miss the process of staring at my screen and watching a piece of….maybe pile is a better word, of something come together as my fingers fly and letters dart across the page. I used to secretly think that I wrote to get a response, to please all three of you but I am beginning to see, I write to feed. Feed my soul, my mind, my security, sometimes my insecurity, to feel engaged, relevant, connected to my own voice….vibrant and alive. To dial it in, just show up for work and dinners, to feel so stretched that I fear any second that I might snap, that is never going to be me. If I have to work until my voice is raw and my fingers bleed, stay out late reveling and carrying on, flirt my way in and out of trouble to keep up…well then, I shall. But….something has been missing.



Words failing, much like my eyelids, (lazy fuckers) I went to the bathroom to wash my face of the day that was closing in on me. Face washed clean, little beads of water dripping from my freshly washed chin on to my pajama top I just stood still for a second. Looked at my skin, my eyes, the laugh lines, the sun damage, the patches of discoloration, the arch of my top lip, my teeth cinched down on the bottom one. I spread my fingers apart and ran them through the blonde hair that lies flat across my temples, pulled it all back away from my face, shoulders and head pointed at the wall behind me…back firm and strong. I looked back in the mirror, the way my top was framing and hugging my breasts, the indentations where the fabric was resting upon my waist, the way the bottom of my top widened and settled on my hips. My body, my imperfect but very female body, naked face with all of my life showing upon it, me, the me that I almost never see. I began to shake a bit as I was spellbound by my own curves, full mouth and green eyes, wrinkles and all…….for the very first time, in my entire life, I felt beautiful. 



For all the craziness, through all the nights crashed on the couch, the mornings after and long hours I had been feeding the part of me that aches to be loved but forgetting to feed the part that I am in love with….my passion. My passion for wine, stories, rants, to be touched, to touch back. My passion for being a woman and all the wild and expressive want that being one, unafraid in her own skin can inspire. Something has indeed been missing and after spending a few moments getting reacquainted with the curve of my hips and weight of my breasts, the way my gaze lowers and takes on an almost evil twinkle when my passion begins digging into my spine again….well I am so fucking ready to feed myself again. Thank you all for keeping me full, for making me so exhausted with trust, love and adoration that I had to crash in order to find my desire to devour with unabashed ferocity….I’m back and I want, more than ever before.  

12 comments:

Marcia Macomber said...

As always, you rock, my dear!

I believe this one qualifies as a Classic Sans Dosage post! And also, as always, perfect pics to go with the words.

I know, I know, you've got an insanely busy day today. Stay 'fired up'!

(Oh, and yeah, the 'Summer of Sam' is most fitting. As you know, I definitely do NOT write about wine, but with the past month's events, I decided to do a little post [http://bit.ly/kjlRfB] on our dinner and other wine experiences....)

You left out the 'thousand' after 'three'! There are a lot of us, Samantha Fan Readers, out here!

Another Day of Crazy said...

That you, the you that you saw in the bathroom mirror... that is the you I see during the late nights on the couch, over the shared wine, with every laugh... passionate in almost all you do, vibrant, and so beautiful under all the layers you hide behind, be it makeup, clothes, or attitude. That is the you that comes through in your writing, and the one we all adore.

So glad you found a renewed reason to write... for you. Not for us, greedy bastards that we are.

Cheers!

Alfonso Cevola said...

What noises do poodles make?

Poodles make all kinds of noises. They whine and cry when they want to be picked up and cuddled. They cry and howl if they get hurt. They bark and howl like a siren if they here a new noise outside. They also grunt and moan when playing tug the ball.


word verification:sapho

thanks, Sam

Sara Louise said...

We can't be all passion all time, because then we'd blow up like a super nova and die. Now you are rested and ready to get it on again. Welcome back.

Samantha Dugan said...

Marcia,
Sweet! Gonna check out your wine writing chops! I did indeed have a long day, just got home as a matter of fact...now I'm gonna go read this post as it was more of a stream of consciousnesses kind of deal. Thanks for reading lady.

Another Day of Crazy,
Damn girlie, you are so friggin' sweet. You are one of those people that I feel safe enough, comfortable enough with to let you see the me that I saw last night, thanks for that. I adore you.

Alfonso,
Not sure what sound poodles make, don't have one and don't want one! I have however heard some grunting and moaning when playing tug the ball though...

Sara,
Think I need to burn it up a little. Welcome back sweet girl, I missed you.

WineNWaves said...

touched a lot of levels there...

What to do when catharsis stops being cathartic? When you become indifferent about your passion and the reflection in the mirror is a complete stranger (how did I get here)? Is this it? You wonder...

Keep your head down, follow your passion and realize - just like the easy girls in highschool - nothing ever worth it comes easy (apologies for the chauvinism).

And then there's this: in every interaction, in every instance, circumstance, conversation & happening; whether it be at the bar or in the supermaket, you effect people. Your actions and disposition effect everyone, even in the slightest, for better or worse. It's cheesy but true - just being the best at whatever it is you do, by trying to be a good honest person, you'll change this world for the better, and even the slightest change makes a world of difference.

As for you, Sam, you are the antithesis of "pretentious wine" enthusiast - though, your knowledge is humbling. You can laugh and just talk about wine and most importantly, have fun with it. Seems the deeper I get into this business the less important "having fun" and enjoying the awe that is wine becomes. I know it was ages ago but wasn't that the most important lesson in little league, the one thing every coach stressed above all else? Somehow, the most simple childhood lessons get lost in the hum-bum of serious adulthood.

In your writing, in tasting with you and in talking with you, you make wine fun :)

Glad to hear of your revitalized energy - look forward to having fun with you soon.

Nick B.

Ron Washam said...

My Gorgeous Samantha,

Your post brought John Keats to my mind. "Beauty is truth, truth beauty--that is all/Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." Of course, he died at 25, which makes his wisdom questionable.

Still, you always speak your truths, and eloquently, and that gives you astonishing beauty.

It's inspiring to see how you've grown into your writing gift, how you've come to that critical point in a writer's life when she truly feels that her words have power and meaning. You've touched so many people with your blog, filled their hearts with laughter, tears, wine and tender bits, you deserve to look at yourself in the mirror and see what we all see--that you're simply gorgeous. I can personally attest to how you fill a room with your Light and Beauty. I've been dazzled by your presence, the sheer nakedness of your soul, several times. It's breathtaking and sensual and, indeed, beautiful beyond words.

You attract people with your truth and beauty. You engage them with your wit and talent and love. You are the rarest of creatures, My Love, and truly priceless.

I love you!

Samantha Dugan said...

Nick,
Gotta give my love to an eager new rep that is willing to follow my gibberish, good on you young man. I have to tell you that I know all too well the feeling that the deeper you delve into this business the less you are flicked and fondled by true passion. Seems to become a "big brain" or "I know more" contest that is so far removed from the true civility and actual unity that stirs young hearts....like yours, and once mine, to surrender to this business in the first place. Do NOT lose heart young one, there are others, you need look no further than the comments of this here blog. Hang in there kiddo, I can spot that simmer and I can say, you got it.

Ron My Love,
Waited all day to hear from you and I have to tell you, it was worth it. You split my heart wide open with your praise, render me speechless and puddle-like with your words...fuck I can only hope that one day I can return that noodle like knee feeling to you. I love you. Just that simple, I love you.

Valerie said...

Welcome back - this post sounds like something that should be bottled. Wait, you get a whole summer? Enjoy the Summer of Sam!

Samantha Dugan said...

Valerie,
As someone that doesn't get all the hoopla about birthdays this month as been an absolute trip for me. I think that was the point I was trying to make here, feeling so adored, wanted, cherished...made me feel so very beautiful and the reason for all of it being the very thing that makes me feel the most alive, writing. Fucking fantastic.

Do Bianchi said...

In rhetoric, this is what you call aporia.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aporia

And let me tell you, lady, you have got the finest aporia this orator has ever heard! ;)

Awesome post... so glad to be catching my breath and catching up with the world where I belong... :)

Samantha Dugan said...

Jeremy,
You are too kind. Oh and thank you again for the mention of Sans Dosage in your fancy pants Houston paper! "Sexy Southern California wine blogger" made me blush but it was so flattering to see my name there. Welcome home and congratulations again to you and your lovely wife. You two are going to make wonderful parents.