Dial

The dial tone echoed in my ear, reflecting the sinking feeling in my chest. He hung up on me. Again. As I reach down to cradle the phone, I realized that it was the last time he would ever do that to me again. My best friend always used to tell me that life is like a jar of marbles. When good things happen, a marble goes in. When bad things happen, a marble gets taken away. I chuckle to myself and think out loud, "I guess that's what people mean when they say they are losing their marbles."

Modern

The modern understanding of what a woman is and does is empowering to some. But to others it leaves them with a choice... be a mother or have the children suffer the unintended consquences of having a mother whose attention is split between the need for a paycheck and loyalty to her family.

It's this crossroads of life that has paralyzed me for years. So I sit at the stop sign and wait, looking both ways. I tried to cross once and was hit by a speeding 18-wheeler. Miraculously, I survived. Now, I look for direction from those who have chosen their path before.

Those without children often are teary-eyed and full of regret. Even though they will stand up and say it was for the best, in their hearts they know that no one will be there for them when they get old. I fear this more than death itself, the knowledge that I had my chance to build a legacy, to leave a lasting mark on this world long before I leave. Die-hard careerists will tell you that its the work that leaves an indellible impression. But as I entered my 30s I came to the realization that Barbara Bush was right. "No one will read your resume at your funeral."

Yet there are those who strive to have it all, but in the process end up creating nothing - or worse, children so independent that they find it difficult to rely on anyone but themselves. Those who have chosen to work and have kids, these days, schedule the kids tighter than they are in an effort to achieve balance and normalcy. In the 80s, we were called latch-key kids, because we let ourselves into the house while mom was still at work. Now, kids are scheduled to the hilt with a myraid of activities meant to fill their time and "teach" them. But the plain truth is this. All of the karate, soccer, birthday parties and playdates won't make up for one on one time with their mom.

So enters the woman who doesn't work, extremely loved and respected by her children, yet so disdained and disrespected by the business world that she often wonders what she's doing wrong. Women who chose the path of work and kids resent her. Women who don't have kids wish they were bold enough to make the choice. Inside, she has the resolve and reward that comes from raising a child, a feat not appreciated enough in today's society.

So, all of this advancement and pride in women shattering the glass ceiling, what is the cost? Are we acheiving it at the price of our children's childhood? Or is there some mythical balance where today's woman truly can have it all?

Caring

I'm past the point of caring, of wanting... of needing. It used to be the the first thing on the top of my mind was, "what will people think?" Now, it's more about what I think, what I enjoy, what I care about. That's healthy. I think.

Balm

You never really need lip balm until you NEED lip balm. Case in point, my trip to Lake Tahoe. Cold, dry... my lips cracked until they bled. I went on a pilgrimage for Carmex and it saved the day.

There's a lot of things I don't need until I really need them. I really didn't need the letter A in the Subway Scrabble game until I was one letter away from a much needed vacation. I really didn't need a new hair brush until my purse got stolen in the very same Subway parking lot. I really didn't need that bottle of wine I consumed afterward. Ok, so these are non-essential items. But its funny how a want or need perpetuates another need like that, or rather perpetuates a string of choices that ends up with a want.

For example: I have a headache and need to get rid of it.
I need: Advil, a massage, food, to go outside

My line of work, marketing, tells people that if you have a need it can be resolved completely by one thing. If I'm hungry, I'm obviously having a Big Mac Attack. If I'm thirsty, I need a Coca-Cola. If I'm young, fun and thirsty I need a Pepsi.

Truth is, a number of things could fulfill my need to get rid of my headache. Like the lip balm, I could have gone in search of Chapstick, Burts Bees or even Vaseline. But I drifted toward Carmex because that little tub with the yellow lid has always worked on the rare occasions I've needed it. Did I need Carmex specifically? Probably not. But it was so ingrained that, if I have chapped lips, I must have Carmex that I couldn't accept anything else.

So I quested.

Like I've quested for the perfect mexican food that will fill the hole left by my favorite place, Teresa's, when it closed down, I quested until I found my lip balm. Need fulfilled.

So I pose these questions.

What do you need?
Is it really what you need or do you want it?
Why do you want it?
Is it worth the quest?
When you can't find what you need, do you go with the substitute? Or, do you choose an alternate path?

Would you quest for lip balm?