Me and James Dean

What could I possibly have in common with James Dean, you might wonder? Simple: a restless and rebellious spirit. For some reason, I was not a rebellious teen. I argued with my parents, but not just for the sake of argument; I wanted answers. I raced my car fast a couple of times, but just to see what it could do, then I stopped. I made out with my boyfriends. But none of it was because I was rebelling.

Even the fact that my very nature was antithetical to my parents social and political beliefs wasn't about being rebellious. It was about being me.

Since I've been a grown up, say, since my early 30s, I've been rebellious. I don't like taking orders: I want to know why before I do something. If I tell myself "no sugar" because I'm trying to be healthy, the next thing you know I have an empty box of cookies on my kitchen counter. When the folks at work said "no more 'creative' hair colors," the first thing I wanted to do was put a rainbow in my hair.

I didn't. But I'm going to keep wearing 'creative' fingernail polish and brightly colored and patterned socks. I cannot give in completely.

Happiness Is

I just read on Reinventing Fabulous (a wonderful blog by three wondeful women) about a new thing they are starting for all of us to participate in: Three Things Sunday. On Sundays, we post three things that made us feel happy that week. Not grateful, mind you — that's different. This is for Happy.

Do you remember those "Happiness Is" comics from the 70s (and 80s?) with the basically nude male and female comic figures. They'd be captioned things like "Happiness is a love note from your loved one." And Charles Shultz gave us "Happiness is a warm puppy," with Charlie Brown hugging Snoopy.

There are warehouses full of books telling us what happiness is, how to find happiness, how to keep happiness. I'd be happy if I could write one that was a best-seller and made me financially secure.