"Outstanding."






Out at Happy Hour with two co-workers and a long-time friend this past week, I was challenged to write a blog on a quote that is really just one word: "Outstanding."

The reason why? Apparently, I say it All The Time. This actually took me aback. I had no idea I did. Folks have told me I say other silly things often. I say "wicked" a lot ("what the hell- are you from *Boston?!*) or "cool beans." But...Outstanding? I looked around the table and the nods told me yes. Huh. I had no idea.

So, being me (and a dirty martini in), I accepted the challenge without the slightest idea how I would do it. A blog on Outstanding would be a it! And my first thought after: you mean, as opposed to Standing Out?

And then it formed.

Outstanding, indeed. It really does mean "standing out." And the linguist in me now wants to research that. When did that happen? When did that swap in words happen (surely not in the English language?) that the meaning of two words - standing out - become one, only swapped? But, as usual, I digress and will move on.

I don't know when I picked up on that word or how often I use it. ("Um, a LOT, Stacy.") But, upon reflection now, I think it must be fairly recent and I think it must be how I feel about life right now, especially if I've been using it pretty subconsciously without even realizing it.

So what's outstanding about life? Oh, I can name the obvious: I love my home. I love my housemates. I even love my job (rare these days, I know!). My family is killer. My friends are amazing. I'm currently sitting in the sun, nursing a drink, listening to iTunes on an iPod I was told should have died years ago (by a site called iPod Death Clock that, unfortunately, no longer works). Sure, life is outstanding (and, yes, I purposely left out the love life)... but am I Standing Out?

I'd have to say: No. And I haven't quite figured out if that's a good thing or not. I'm leaning toward yes. These days, I play my cards close to my (small but proportionate) chest. Oh, you know how I'll feel about things if you ask me. But if you don't? I've turned into that Surveying Leo.

I'm a Leo through and through. Whatever you believe in that, whether you give it credence or not, I find it fun. And I do kind of believe. As a Christian, I do. And it does coincide perfectly: God did create the heavens, did He not? But, again, a story for another day. I am a Leo in my sun, my moon and my Venus (Aquarius rising for folks who know what that means). And there are two types of Leos: the Center of Attention (Standing Out?) and the surveyors.

I've become the latter recently without even realizing.

Without even realizing it, at some point I decided not to be Standing Out anymore and instead, just let my life be Outstanding.

And it made me realize. Outstanding cannot be created. Standing Out can. That's active. You can Stand Out in an active way. You can only let life BE OUTSTANDING in a passive way. And, for once? I love the passive way.

Pause. Back off. And just let your life be Outstanding, my friends.

“The joker ain't the only fool who'll do anything for you.” - Juice Newton, “Queen of Hearts”




As a disclaimer up front? I’m the fool in this scenario. But it’s not a bad thing.

In the ages of Kings and Courts, the Jester (the Fool) was really the most clever of folks. He had to capture attention and entertain. He was the clever one, making the king laugh and forget his troubles. He was The Entertainment and was revered. Don’t mistake a fool for a stupid person. The biggest fool you know is the most clever person you know. As soon as you realize that and get “in” with him? You’re golden, my friends. There’s a reason Jokers Are Wild, my friends. It’s not by accident. Those folks are wily and clever and brilliant.

Unfortunately, I? Ha. Am not that fool. Since it’s my blog, I’d love to say I was. Oh! I’m clever, I am! I’m astute. And I know things y’all don’t. Hee. Funny. But no.

Because, in reference to the quote, I’m a fool for love, not for life. Which makes me silly and naïve and perhaps juvenile and even stupid. But I kinda like that.

So here’s where that love thing comes in.

At 38, I finally learned to love myself. And that’s a story for another day. THIS story is about the loves I’ve had in my life. Who I was a fool for, each in their own turn. And I don’t regret each one.

The first one happened in college. He introduced me to the Grateful Dead and inspired me to get SCUBA certified. I have no clue where he is today. And even though some folks would say “you don’t know real love at twenty years old,” at the time, I thought it was. And so it is.

After moving to Atlanta, I dated a guy and I would call that love too. Not the same as the previous, of course (I’m 6 years older now at this point) and not the same way I’d define it now. But at the time, I was in love.

Which means it WAS.

Folks, if it doesn’t work out? It wasn’t NOT love. If you’re married to the love of your life now, it doesn’t mean the love you felt for someone a half a decade ago wasn’t. It was. It’s….just *changed* now. And that’s good. We should change as we grow. But I digress.

And I’ll digress again (for a brief moment). It really honestly pisses me off when folks say, after a break-up, that it “must not have been love.” Really? Why NOT? It was. At the time? It WAS>

My most recent “love” (there are actually 4 total so far in my life if anyone’s counting; hopefully 5 will be The It. Again, disgression) totally threw me for a loop. I was ready; he was not. He went there first and I followed. But two years gone now, I realize that he didn’t mean to hurt me. It just happened.

I’m a big believer in that. I’ve actually, in the past year, been able to put safely to bed (300 thread count sheets and all – bless, Shell!) that most of my loves are now people I still feel dearly about and want the best for.

The one in college? The first? Still hoping he’ll pop up on Facebook someday so we can reconnect and I can be happy for him about his SCUBA-diving career and wife and 3.2 kids. The one I dated recently after arriving here? I got closure very recently. Hadn’t seen him for two years (and the last time I did? Yeah. That’s another story for another day) and a couple weeks ago saw him again and all is By the Way of the Beam now. That means good. The last? Well….still waiting. We’ll see.

But that brings me back to what I said earlier. I love myself now. I WANT to be able to say that I still love all my old loves still, even if I’m not still in love with them. I’m 3 for 4. There’s still one left. Who I might still be a fool for, like the quote says. But I kinda like being a fool for someone….as long as I’m not fooling myself.