Until I saw Desperately Seeking Susan I didn’t like Madonna. I mainly didn’t like Madonna because of the illogic of her song, “Like a Virgin.” You cannot be “like” a virgin. You’re a virgin or you’re not a virgin. It’s not a status that can be recreated. I thought it was stupid. I didn’t like her “style” either. In fact, I wore it as a Hallowe’en costume in 1993. The funny part of THAT is that most of the people at the party didn’t realize I was wearing a costume. The hosts did and fell over laughing.
I had a cousin, still have this cousin, who was fraught over this issue because she had recently found the lord in a very conservative Christian sect and was shamed over the fact that she had been a slut (in her opinion, anyway). Her sister worked very hard to help her understand that once she was saved, she was “born again,” and had a clean slate.
No one is “born again” any more than they are “like” a virgin.
What’s the big deal about this, anyway? Who cares? Life doesn’t offer “do overs” and it shouldn’t. If it did, none of us would get anywhere, learn anything new. We’d live in a world of regret, trying over and over to make that ONE THING right. How do we know but what that ONE THING we did wrong was actually right in some grander sense?
This morning Facebook (in its inimitable way) showed me my Memories. On this day in 2014, I was packing furiously to get out of my house in CA before the 18th. On this day in 2003, I had moved into that house.
I felt a pang of melancholy reading the two events, lined up there on Facebook. I loved that house (though this one is light years better and I’d rather be here).
Through those years — 2003 – 2014 — the last 8 were some of the darkest in my life — living there was the light at the end of the day, the week, the semester.