Another year older, and what have we done…

Tomorrow my son turns 16.

My God I am proud of him. He is an incredible human being – intelligent, kind, compassionate, great sense of humor, understanding, inquisitive, adorable – everything you want your child to be.

I remember back to being pregnant with him. I was terrified. I’d already lost one child and had difficulties getting pregnant. It wasn’t easy – those 9 months. During delivery, he and I were both on the brink of death at different times. But somehow, we came through it.

I swore – if I never do another thing right in my life, I will be the best parent my son could ask for. I would raise a child into the best adult he could be.

Somehow, I’ve done it. Through death, alcoholism, divorce, and moving across country, I’ve somehow managed to give him the guidance and love necessary to help him keep his head on straight.

I am so very lucky.

My son loves and respects me as I do him.

I’m slowly learning to let go and it’s hard. But I truly believe he was never mine to hold onto in the first place. He is meant for something much greater than I can imagine and he was only given to me to help him prepare for whatever comes his way.

I am honored to have been chosen his caregiver during his early years on this earth. I am honored to be able to stand beside him through his years of growth and education. And I am honored to be lucky enough to hold onto his heart as he branches out into this world.

Happy Birthday Sean – may you continue to grow and nurture your heart as well as your intellect throughout your life, and may you always hold onto a piece of your childlike enthusiasm and joy as you grow into the man you were always meant to be.

Trying to avoid that feeling of defeat

I know it’s too early to give up.

I just hate this frustration. I hate failure and I think that’s why I’ve stayed at this weight all these years. If you don’t try, you can’t fail.

I know. I know. You can’t succeed either. But you can float on knowing that no change is simply things staying the same.

What am I so damned afraid of?

Come to find out, I’m afraid of a lot of things. I know I will look older when I lose weight. How do I know this? Because I’m 50 and I know how we develop jowls in my family and how the neck sags and the skin hangs. If I had hit 50 without the excess weight – I would have been better off. But no. I’m 70 pounds overweight and it will show when I lose it.

Am I really that vain?

And dating again.  It’s bad enough being fat and thinking of getting naked with someone new…but how bad is it going to be when I lose the weight and not the skin? How ugly is that going to be? I’m already horribly self-conscious about being naked…being thinner isn’t going to change the way I feel when I’m naked.

And no. I cannot afford surgery. That is completely out of the question. I hear the contestants on BL talk about their desire of love. Me too. I was married 23 years – and my ex went through my pregnancy with me and loved me and my body when I was skinny and when I almost died giving birth. He never seemed to have an issue with my weight and body image after that. And I got comfortable with it. And I let it go. He was fine, and I didn’t have to work at being beautiful.

But…a new man? He deserves better. And I’m not sure I can give him that.

So I stay fat. And I don’t date. And I stand back and love a man who will never know from afar. Because it’s safer that way.

These are the issues I need to deal with before I succeed at weight loss.

How the hell do I do that?

little miracles mean a lot

Yesterday, I was all ready to hit the gym, work out with weights and generally crawl back to my apartment dragging my sorry ass and shredded muscles into a hot bath.

But no, that is not how it ended up last night.

Instead, we had another orthodontist appointment and … the dreaded pictures/update/finance review meeting.  I was scared. I knew we owed another $2,600 on my son’s mouth and I was slowly panicking as to how the hell I was going to come up with that amount.

I knew my insurance had upped their coverage to $2000 – but, alas, they had already paid their total share. My ex’s insurance, I believe had already paid $1,500…but he has new insurance – so, I’m not sure how much they will pay.

Still – $2,600 is a daunting figure and I was scared.

The meeting with the dentist went well. Teeth are lining up very well, expansion is done, teeth have been brought down and aligned, and even his wisdom teeth came in and lined up thanks to the braces. Not much can be done for his jaw (he has a “deformity” in where one side has the normal 45 degree angle and the other side is much, much straighter – not that you can really notice…) but it looks like he may be able to avoid surgery in his adulthood.

Yep. Braces are coming off in 3 months with a near perfect set of teeth. Yay! He wants beef jerky and a monster candy coated apple for celebration.

I’m freaking out trying to figure out how to pay off $2,600 in three months.

And here comes the miracle.

The financial wiz comes into the office with new paperwork. They are willing to waive $1,850 if I can pay $250 each month for the next 3 months. This will include the completion of the braces and retainers.

Oh. My. God.

I jumped and said yes. I will skimp and do what it takes to pay $750 instead of $2,600. Simply amazing.

Simply a miracle.

So…do I feel bad about not getting to the gym yesterday? A little. But when I realized that I had an earth shattering miracle happen and my life went a wonderful direction last night then … no. It’s all good.

Maybe, just maybe, life is really looking up for me…

If it’s tuesday…it must be confusing…

So…lifestyle/diet-wise…I did okay yesterday. I managed 24 minutes on the treadmill at a nice leisurely pace and did 1 mile. I know. Slow. I did say leisurely!

The point is that I did it.  That may not seem amazing to most people, but for me it’s huge.  Now…tonight, my plan is 16 minutes on a bike, then hit the weight machines. I need to figure out how to use them, but I think I can manage. How difficult can they be? The question will be how much weight to use. But, I believe this plan falls under “cross training” right? Then Wednesday, I’ll repeat the treadmill, Thursday XT, Friday treadmill, saturday – maybe I’ll take a break, then Town Lake (3.5 miles) on Sunday.

Rinse and repeat.

Every day I just need to do a little bit at a time. One Day At A Time. And I’m not even an alcoholic. But if my ex can sober up and stay that way for over 3 years, then I should be able to manage working out, just a little bit at a time.

And then there’s the other parts of my life – the confusing parts of my life.

My son’s birthday is coming up and I set up a great party for him. Problem is…

not everyone can make it. Specifically 2 girls. He was going to be “okay” with losing one of them…but the second one? nope. So we are now trying to change the date – hopefully push it out one week.

And I can managed that, then my “friend” will tag along (assuming it’s his weekend with his daughter – girl #2 who is really #1 LOL). I would love spending the afternoon with him. But it’s funny – my son is totally confused by the daughter and I’m totally confused by the father. I believe they are cut from the same “mixed signals” cloth. What they say and how they act are two different things.

Both my son and I are empathic – so maybe if we were “normal” it wouldn’t affect us as much as it does. But we aren’t and it does and we spend our time in limbo.  Not necessarily a bad limbo – but our hearts are twisted up in knots.

We both try to look at others, and try our hands at different relationships…but, we both end up falling back toward the father/daughter team. It’s who we are both comfortable with.

It’s annoying as hell. But…we both think that…if we hang in there long enough, things will evolve our way.  If not, because we are both still keeping ourselves open to others, then maybe someone will swoop in and rescue us from ourselves.

I never expected to be going through the same “lovelorn” experiences as my son at the same time. Life has definitely changed. He’s grown up. And we commensurate our dating woes together.

How bizarre.

No wonder I need to become more active – maybe I won’t fixate on one person – or that hole currently in my life.

Maybe…if I focus on this 10K goal, life will just come around on it’s own.

Let’s hope.

It’s Monday…

Let’s see…

can I get the eating figured out? Not yet. I’m trying, but I don’t have my whole heart into it. Probably because in the past when I’ve jumped in enthusiastically, I’ve given up and given in.

Now, I’m just trying to find a balance. What am I capable of REALLY doing that will also include eating better.

I keep saying slow and steady wins the race…but sometimes I wonder at 50 how slow can I really go to still get ahead? That’s the hard part. That’s the scary part.

On the plus side – I walked 3.5 miles yesterday is preparation/training for the 10K in April. Next week, of course, two of my partners want to go all the way for the 6 mile loop. Of course, the one pushing it is 11 years younger than me and 40 pounds lighter. She’s also much more active than me. I sit on my butt all day at work. Barely get any exercise in. No – I think pushing for the six mile will defeat me this early on. Doing 3.5 miles is excellent. I can’t forget that, nor can I see it as a failure. So…no. I’m going to do my 3.5 and meet up with them at the end of the trail.

Now…it sounds great that I did so well right? I ate like a pig yesterday and just sat around afterwards. ARGH! where’s the balance???

Today…is technically day one of my training for the 10K. According to my schedule I need to do this: Mon – rest; Tues – 25 min walk; Wed – 25 min bike; Thur – 25 min walk; fri – rest; sat – 25 min bike; sun – 2 mile walk.

This is my goal. Get active. I’m sure the eating will fall into place. But this time around (cuz you all know we’ve done THIS before!) I’m starting with activity.

Wish me luck!

OMG – I’m Committed (Or Is That Committable?)

(originally written 1/6/10)

Some how…

I got talked into committing to a 10K race on April 11. And all because I got weak and posted on my Facebook status that this was going to be the year I did it. I grabbed hold of my weight and threw it out the window. Yep. This is the year and I wanted to put it out there so I could be held accountable.

Damn if people didn’t take me at my word!

So … things were said, suggestions made and now I’m committed to walking (not running thank God!) a 10K.

I can do it. I know I can. That’s not the problem.

The problem is I’m a lazy ass and I don’t want to do anything. I can sit back and wallow in my fatdom and blame my weight. Year after year. It’s not my fault, it’s because I’m fat. It’s not what I really want, but I’m not sure if I can live skinny again. Then I won’t have any excuses. I’ll have to step up and take responsibility for myself.

And now…people are counting on me. I’m part of a group. They are even driving 60 miles RT to walk Town Lake with me on Sundays. I have to do this.

So…

Why am I so scared?

Why am I looking for an escape plan already?

What the hell is wrong with me???

Argh!

I probably didn’t do as badly as I feel – but last night I was just so hungry!! I probably went 400 over my calorie intake…I guess, in the grand scheme of things, that’s not so bad.

I also did my second day on BL Wii – WTF??? I can’t even do flipping push ups! What a loser! Seriously…I was supposed to do 3 circuits of planks and push ups…I managed 2 circuits of planks and 1.5 of push ups. The rest of the time I did knee bends. I know I shouldn’t beat myself up because at least I did something. I just feel so out of shape and uncoordinated.

Okay. pity party over. Back to it. Today is a new day. Subway is on the horizon as I think I need to chow down on something more substantial than whatever it is I’ve been eating.

I’ll let you know how I survive.

Tonight is the start of the Biggest loser. I need to remember, if a man that weighs over 500 pounds can survive time on the ranch, I can drag my fat ass in front of a TV for 30 minutes and attempt to punch the air and do push ups.

Argh!

Jan 4 – And What Have I Done For Me?

Old habits are hard to break. I’m trying – really, but I’m already letting myself slip here and there. The fact that it’s not showing up on the scale isn’t necessarily good for me. It just means I can continue to push the envelope a bit further.

So yesterday…I had chicken nachos at Freebirds for lunch. The only thing I had eaten that morning was an english muffin with butter. and I didn’t eat dinner. So I’m hoping it wasn’t too disastrous. At least I can control most of what they put on the nachos…so I had black beans, white chicken, and – of course – queso. I haven’t had the guts to look up the nutritional value, though I imagine it can’t be all that bad (though not all that good either!).

The day before? I justified a “tiny” scoop of ice cream from Amy’s because I had a huge spinach salad at the movies. Though I also had 2 guiness… ever hopeful…at least I’m consciously eating and not totally overdoing it.

I’ve only worked out on the Wii once … but plan on doing it again once I get home from work. I should be in “move” mode so … all might work out. It’s just that once I sit down, it’s all over. I need to work on that.

So…here’s to a fresh start, a fresh January, and a thinner me in the future.

I’ve started the New Year challenge at 221 and have weighed myself every morning with 221 being the constant weight. Next official weigh in is friday the 8th. Can I do it? Can I be under 221???

Dear God I hope so.

Sometimes things never change (or should this be “same shit different day?”)

This is probably why I stopped writing in the first place.

Nothing changes.

I’m hung up on someone who cares about me but not for me – yet he’s always there when I need him.

And I need him – but I need more than he’s willing to give. Yet I keep thinking maybe he’ll figure it out and chose me.

Isn’t that the sign of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over yet expecting a different result? Nothing has changed in 10 months – yet I keep thinking I can bring it back around to last December. When he wanted me to be loved. And he was willing to lead me back into the pool reminding me of what the water was like…

Then he just let go of my hand and floated away – all the while feeding me encouragement to reach out and see what I could grab.

I’ve reached out. Repeatedly. And there’s nothing out there that I can find that I want to grab onto. I would if there was. I really would. As much as I want him, I’m too damned old to wait – so I would love to grab onto someone else.

But they aren’t there. And I don’t know why. So…I float back to him. Over and over again. Even when I try to float away, he finds a way to bring me back into his current. But…that’s all. I’m just in his current – where he has control. Though he says he doesn’t want control.

I’m just another mom on the team. A parent at the school. A friend. Yet, we’ve done and said things that I’ve never done or said to another mom or dad on the team, another parent at the school, to just a friend.  I can’t imagine he’s done these things either. Only with a girlfriend or his ex-wife.

Oh God. See? Same shit different day. It never changes.

This is why I want to grab on to someone else. Maybe someone who wants me in their current – actively wants me there. Will admit he wants me there. And isn’t afraid to deal with me being in his current.

I’m not that scary.

I’m not that needy.

And I’m not ready to roll up into a ball and roll away.

I’m fat…part II

So what do I do?

Now that I’ve established that I’m simply fat because I’m afraid of dating – of stepping back out into the single world? What do I do that will work this time as opposed to what I’ve done off and on for the last 4 years?

Let’s try self-hypnosis. That has to work. I know what to do food-wise though I’m not currently doing it. I also know what to do activity-wise – I’m also not doing that. So how do I not do what I’m supposed to do activity-wise when it’s just down the trail at the main house of my apartment complex.

Yep. One of the reasons I chose this place. They have a wonderful gym…treadmills, bikes, elyptical machines, and nautilus weight equipment. I’ve used it once in 8 months. Time to get my ass in gear. Time to do what I should be doing.

So…it’s time to use all my knowledge and put it to good use.

Maybe now it’s time to lose the weight that I’ve hidden behind for 10 years.

Maybe now it’s time to get my life back.

What happen to basic respect?

Again…I think it all comes down to a very simple idea. Everything you do affects another. Period. We should be aware of our actions and not suppose, or even superimpose them upon another without recognizing that they are doing the exact same thing with their actions. We can be annoyed at another or ignorant of another – but the reality is – the actions will affect someone.

Now…are we the rude police? The manners police? no. What I am saying is that politeness and kindness are easy. But only if the person choses to exhibit that behavior. Rudeness is a choice. Ignorance is a choice. It doesn’t reside in a certain class or income of people. It exists because that person choses to be selfish.

I agree in that I have the choice to ignore said behavior. And I do. As often as I can. Because in my 48 years on this earth, I’ve learned that I can’t change certain attitudes for the betterment of society. Which leads into a socialogical thought of whose ideals are right and whose are wrong. Is that even realistic? I don’t think so. I do not believe that it is my duty or even my right to “change” someone by trying to force them to comply with my behavior. What I do believe is that – given the overall ideal of kindness toward one’s fellow human being – it is our responsibility as a collective group to bring about awareness of all.

So there it is.  My opinion on simple human respect.  Why the hell is this so damned difficult?  Can’t we get any farther than this in the art of kindness toward one another?  This isn’t an issue of how we have changed, it’s an issue of not changing at all. Pay it forward.  Pay it backward. Just pay attention to those around you.  Being polite, isn’t giving in.  It’s acknowledging that others have a right to exist.  And before you say any differently – remember YOU have that right to exist.  And you don’t make the rules.  We are all in this together.  We don’t have to like each other, but we do need to coexist. Politeness is a step toward coexisting.

Karma.

Remember the US Constitution? Remember our Freedoms?

This is only a reminder…but Amendment one clearly states, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” 

So…what’s with all the BS out there that God has foresaken the US because of their religions???? I was born and raised as a Christian – still consider myself to be one, however, I do not have all the information to forcefeed my beliefs on others.  There’s a difference between demanding one converts and leading one to conversion. 

Remember everyone – we all have a right to our opinions and a right to how we raise our children and a right to feel safe doing so in this country.  But no where are we granted the right to condemn, judge or abandon those who believe differently.  Not the Government (see above), nor God, (see the Bible).  Remember forgiveness?  Remember Judge lest thou be Judged thyself? Remember the New Testement?  Remember God is our Father and loves us all – even those who sin against God? 

It scares me to think that there are those who are willing to condemn their neighbor based upon religion and basic freedoms.  I can ask you to re-examine your belief system, however I doubt it would do much more than fall on deaf ears.  Remember, no one on this earth has it right – no one is without sin – love thy brother and sister.  Pray for them if you must, but stop the condemnation.

When did Religion translate into Christianity and ONLY Christianity?

There is no clear reference tying religion and Christianity as the one true faith of our country.  Christianity falls under the umbrella of Religion – the two are not interchangeable.

 

As a Christian – I believe in God and Jesus as his Son and our Savior.  However, I also recognize – as a Christian – that all are created by God and in God’s likeness.  That, as humans, we are not born without sin, thus, making any righteous judgment on our fellow humans one of sin.  To infer that our Country is failing because not all her citizens believe wholly as Christian is highly judgmental.

 

My referencing the first amendment is a direct reference to the freedom of religion for the citizens of the United States of America.  Based upon my studies, our Forefathers directly accepted that not all citizens were of one particular faith – and it is because of that persecution in England that the original settlers came to this country.  True – it was primarily a difference between Catholic and Protestant (of which I am of the latter), however, it also included Jews and a variety of other Pre-Christian Faiths.

 

I agree – as a Nation we must come together under one cause – but to say that one cause is a belief in the Christian God immediately divides this nation.  Instead, we could come together as one in a nurturing unity of kindness and caring for our fellow man whether or not they are of the same Christian faith or another faith.  The majority of Religions in our world rest upon the same moral beliefs that Christian Faiths do.  Isn’t that what Jesus taught?  To love thy neighbor?  To turn and offer your other cheek to your enemy? To teach love and kindness for all living creatures? 

 

I understand the Bible teaches that there is only one way to enter Heaven – through acceptance of Jesus – but does that mean that all who are kind, caring, loving and good but are … say Jewish … are destined to Limbo?  Or worse yet, damned to Hell?  And if they are – is it ours to decide?  No.  It is God’s decision – his final judgement.  And for man to think otherwise is foolish and egotistical. Take that same thought and apply it to our Nation.  Those same kind, caring, loving and good people who happen to not believe in Jesus are still working toward the betterment and unity of our Country.  To say otherwise is a direct attack upon our own citizens and an intentional divide within our country.

 

There are many people who work hard to bring unity to this country.  There are many different faiths among the soldiers who are fighting to maintain our rights and our freedoms.  Should we condemn them because they are not Christian?  Where do we draw the line?  Who decides who has the correct moral compass that everyone else shall be held to? And if the answer is Christian – then which denomination?  And of that denomination – which synod or branch?  Again – who determined which man holds the answer and who says that they are right?

Turkey Disasters!

Back in the dark ages of my youth…I was about 20 and had my first “real” job. Well, they gave us a gift certificate at Thanksgiving time “for a turkey.” It was really a $25 gift certificate to Safeway – but I thought I had to buy a turkey with it…so I did. It was 1980 and I bought a $25 turkey. I was single at the time. Didn’t dawn on me to give to family…no I was going to cook my first turkey for me and my friend! Yeppers! So there we are in this tiny apartment kitchen opening this turkey…okay, I remembered my mom sticking her hands in the turkey and taking stuff out…so I did. GROSS! I thought everything would be in a bag or something – I have no idea why. Then I didn’t know what to do with the stuff I took out, so we put it in a dish then stuck it in the fridge. Step two. Stuff the turkey. Okay. This should be simple enough. We opened the box of Stovetop stuffing and poured it into the turkey cavity. Do you know how much Stovetop stuffing fits in the cavity of a $25 turkey? Lots!!! So we kept filling the cavity until it was full. YEA! Now let’s cook the turkey!
It took forever. We thought we were suppose to baste the turkey with it’s own juices…but there really wasn’t any juice coming out, so we didn’t. Somewhere…I probably should have called my mom…but no. I was 20 and living on my own. Why call mom????
Somewhere around Christmas I think the turkey finally popped it’s little red timer thingy…and so it was done.
Yum! We couldn’t wait! Did you know you’re suppose to let the turkey sit before you slice into it? I didn’t. So we fired up the electric knife and butchered the hell out of that turkey. Oops! Forgot to remove the stuffing…I guess we’ll just serve it from the turkey…YEA!!! Turkey and Stuffing!!!! WOOHOO!!! Let’s eat!!!
Have you ever had cottonmouth? Have you ever shoved like an entire pack of crackers into your mouth and tried to chew them and swallow? Have you ever had all your bodies moisture sucked right out of you?
Yeah. we did. Remember when I said we poured the Stovetop stuffing into the turkey’s cavity? Did you know you’re supposed to first mix the stuffing with water? We didn’t. Wonder where all that turkey juice went that we were supposed to baste the turkey with? Yep. into the cavity. The wads of dried breading was sucking the literal life juice out of the turkey.
So there we were…CRAVING turkey and dressing with a frickin’ huge turkey as dry as the sahara desert surrounded by piles of semi-moist turkey-fied breadcrumbs.

I didn’t prepare another Thanksgiving meal until I was in my 40′s!!!!
Oh what fun!!!

Memories of 19

The most as you’ll ever go – Is back where you used to know – If grown-ups could laugh this slow – Where as you watch the hour snow – Years may go by – So hold on to your special friend – Here, you’ll need something to keep her in : – “Now you stay inside this foolish grin … ” – Though any day your secrets end – Then again – Years may go by – You saved your own special friend – ‘Cuz here you need something to hide her in – And you stay inside that foolish grin – When everyday now secrets end – Oh and then again – Years may go by” – Rickie Lee Jones

I remember one of the first times I really heard those lyrics – Bill and Dan’s apartment on Lemon street in Anaheim.  Just off Broadway.  1979.  Sitting on the couch with Bob, Bill, Dan, Marcie and an assortment of others who drifted in and out during that time…we were facing the stereo speakers housed in curved white stucco cutouts in their wall.  The summer night was drifting in and the sweet smell of the 70′s curled in and around our heads. 

I remember wanting to hold on to those people with all my might – never let go because I loved them with all that I was.  They were my friends – my family – my sweet escape of survival during that last year of a decade of growing up. 

So what happened?  How did we all drift apart?  Can I put it into some sort of timeline where everything finally makes sense?  No.  I don’t think so…

Bob…tried to live his dream of being a DJ – wound up in Blythe as the morning DJ for an AM station giving farm reports and playing country music.  Somewhere along the line we had a falling out based on a misunderstanding of relationships and sexuality – he was gay, I wasn’t.  He thought I was in love with him, I wasn’t.  He said back off, I did.  Last I heard, he was a manic depressive living somewhere near Big Bear…but that was years ago.

Marcie…was my roommate for awhile then we all kind of split up…eventually, she married our old high school drama teacher and they were living in Northern California…happy in their church life.

Dan?  I have no idea.  He and Bill moved eventually from their little apartment in Anaheim to a little rental in Fullerton – I was there…maybe twice…then something happened and Dan…well, Dan just sort of disappeared.  Sad.  He was the reason I started writing in the first place.  I found him once…back in the 90′s.  I emailed him and was so excited when he responded that he was the Dan I was looking for.  I guess I scared him off by thanking him for being the person who guided me to where I was now – I never heard from him again.  He has since disappeared.

Bill…I kind of know where he is.  He dated my cousin for awhile, dated a lot of people for awhile – and then…when I think he finally set his sights on me…I met my husband.  Poor Bill.  We had one date and all I could talk about was the man I’d just met.  The last time I saw Bill was at the Steve Goodman tribute in Santa Ana.  I think I’d just gotten engaged and I saw Bill in the refreshments line.  I introduced him to my financee then poof! he was gone.

Me…I drifted in and out of view for awhile, but things got the better of me and I left California.  And there I stayed.  Tucked away in a cocoon of snow and darkness for 18 years in the hallowed arms of Alaska.  I’ve come out…not so much a butterfly as a moth…and I’ve flown to warmer climates.  Maybe here…maybe now I can venture toward my dreams of a better world.

So…yesterday…I found my special friend that I’d put away…there was an email from Bill in my inbox.  Years do go by…but sometimes the distance isn’t as far as it seems.  Times have changed…we all grew up, yet…the connection is still there.  The feeling of pride when we talk about our kids.  The feeling of age as I realize they are the same age we were when we met. 

Bill grew up – and of all the friends I knew when I was 19, Bill made something of himself.  He stayed true to his dreams.  He believed in a better world, hated the unjust nature of man, and swore he’d make a difference.  He has.  And I’m proud of him.  Wish I could have made the same impact on society – but I’m on a different path…a smaller path – far away from those white stucco walls of Lemon street.

The secrets of 19 didn’t really end – they just slipped away into the moist corners of a grin…and everytime I remember those days, long ago in 1979, the secrets and that grin reappear. 

I’m holding on my friends – the best way I know how.

DeJa Vu all over again

And so it begins…

There comes a point in your life – after the 20 plus years of marriage, the kids, the divorce, the weight gain, the leaning towards 50 – when you figure your days of butterfly flutters and men are over and gone with the wind. 

Then he walks into your life.

He talks to you.  Leans in to you and smiles.  Puts his arm around you and hugs you like you haven’t been hugged in years.  He laughs at your jokes and shares parenting techniques.  And he looks forward to seeing you again.  That’s when it happens.  That’s when you let your guard down and think…maybe, just maybe I’m not done yet.  That’s when you allow the little bit of “what ifs” to enter into your heart and even your head doesn’t seem to object.  Coffee.  That’s good.  Maybe we could meet over coffee and get to know one another.  Maybe that could lead to dinner.  Maybe, just maybe, you could be more than friends.

How does that flutter suddenly appear?  Didn’t it die off after marriage to your soul mate?  Really.  I’m not 16 anymore.  I didn’t get into the dating scene much back then…I certainly don’t see myself in it today.  Yet…there he is.  Stirring that feeling in me that I thought was long dormant – extinct.  Making me imagine a world of possibilities when I’d planned on a world of just me.  Now I want more.  Now I want to take that chance and move forward with someone by my side.

An adult to talk to, laugh with, be silly with, and cry with.  A friend.  A partner.  A confidente.  Maybe him.

except…

Maybe not.

Because today…in one of our emails back and forth…he dropped the bombshell.  He mentioned his girlfriend.  And not so much as in a “back off you’re getting to close” kind of way, but in the “hey your my friend and I just want to share this bit of info with you” kind of way.  Except it’s at the beginning of our friendship.  Sort of like a boundary just got erected.  And I have none of my own…so there I sit, out in the open and cheer my new friends relationship from the side.

And there’s the deja vu part…except it really did happened. Just 27 years ago…

I met the greatest man in the world – and the flutter hit for the first time.  He was fun, laughed at my jokes, enjoyed my company, palled around with me, treated me to homemade wine and …

introduced me to his wife.

Yet our friendship grew.  There was no denying our connection.  two years later he was divorced and a year after that we were married.  My soul mate.  You know THE ONE.  But even with him…even with my soul mate I discovered that forever is until it ends.  And you’re left to pick it up and move on…and wonder where the turn off for forever was and how you missed it.

Or maybe you were always on the right path.  Maybe Forever was only supposed to be until it ended.  Maybe there’s more than one soulmate out there.  Maybe…he has a girlfriend.  And maybe you just need to be friends.  Maybe.  Just maybe.

and so it begins…the dance

I haven’t danced since 1981 – the dance of butterflies and sleepless nights, of sweaty palms and second-guessing.  Somehow, when I wasn’t paying any attention to the music or the crowd, I’ve found myself in the middle of the dance floor wondering who my partner may really be and if I truly should be out there in the first place. 

As in what always has seemed the case with me – I’m not even sure I’m in the right club, with the right crowd and the proper music swirling around in my head.  I’m trying to tiptoe around, yet present the illusion of grace and candor.  But then the real me seeps out, trips me up, and I find myself steps away from the one I’ve chosen.  Or who has chosen me.  I’m still really not quite sure yet. 

The dance is truly happening.  Of that I’m sure.  The music is playful and light - almost with a 60′s AM feel, yet there are hints of long play FM filtering in and out…almost as if I’m losing reception.  I can’t dial in the FM though, because AM isn’t done filling my head with catchy 3 minute fantasies – all with happy endings.

And I’m not ready to switch over to the more grown-up music.  Not just yet.  I learned that last night. 

When did I stop being comfortable in my skin?  Was it the weight gain?  The struggles with an alcoholic husband?  Those are a part of it – but…the real truth is the lost of the dream.

I had it all – even when I refused to allow myself the dream that every girl has – I somehow found love.  He was the prince who loved everything about me – albeit not a perfect prince, but he was smart and funny and handsome…and he loved me with every part of his being.  And we were happy.  He taught me about life and love and protected me in ways I had only dreamed of in the quiet, early morning hours of innocent hope.  We could do anything together – and we did, for a very, very long time.  I was truly convinced that nothing could ever come between us. 

But when the division came, I was so sure I could fight it.  Protect my prince like he had protected me.  I was strong and brave and had love on my side.  That’s all you need, right?  Love.  Conquers everything.  Except when your prince doesn’t want to be saved.  My love wasn’t enough.  My strength was my weakness and my bravery was simply bravado thinly shielding a scared little girl.

It was in that realization I lost my comfort and trust in myself and my abilities.  I think there was even a small, empty voice that spoke of hiding away to protect whatever I had left within my soul.  I was broken by the dream.  My feet hurt and the dance was over.

Yet…here I am again.  Back on the floor and I have no idea how I got here or why.  I don’t know if I want to dance.  I don’t know if I can.  The steps are confusing – difficult and practiced, yet somehow alluring and free.  It’s as if a mastered Tango artist has swept me into his arms and tempted me with the haunting dance of forbidden lovers…while I’m off in the corner somewhere still trying to learn the Pony and the Jerk and dancing around with my girlfriends.  I just got here.  I don’t know if I’m ready for complicated steps, twists and dips.  I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. 

But I’m tempted.  And entranced.  I can’t turn away, but I can’t bring myself to join in.  Nor can I go back to my safe little corner and dance like a carefree teenaged girl.  I’ve been touched by another level of mystery and grace and for whatever reason, I can’t seem to let it go.

I just wonder how long I can watch without finding myself lost in the music and rhythmically carried away…

new beginnings

And so tonight…tonight, on halloween, life continues to evolve.  Is it the autumn feel? the upcoming election? the night of all hallows?

Or is it me – simply me, unwinding the cocoon of solitary I comfortably created around me.  I’m excited and anxious all in the same breath.  Ready to venture out, afraid of stepping too far. Sometimes I wonder how much of life is real and how much is really in your head – shaping and dictating your imagined reality. 

I see him tonight.  Surrounded by the safety of our children – inching and side stepping into our friendship.  I don’t know yet what I really want – or even if I want anything at all.  I was ready – willing – to stay tucked away in my life of seclusion and self-discovery.  It was as if I convinced myself that it was time to live just for me.  But is it?  Do you have to live alone to live just for yourself?  Is it possible to share?

Tonight may have answers – if I look and listen and open myself to the possibilities of new beginnings.  Tonight may be the stepping stone to tomorrow.  If only I’m willing to wade in far enough.

Out of the clouds

Thankfully, I’ve stepped out and found myself released from the fog surrounding my emotions. I don’t know how clarity can come from a candy-filled evening, but I am back in control of my heart.  And I’m thankful.  No more rushing madly around in a state of lovelorn confusion – now I can comfortably walk in a path of friendship. 

It’s a relief.  Being able to breathe, able to sleep and to concentrate on what requires my true attention – that is where I like my life.  Though what I’ve experienced has been exciting and fun, what I have now is reality and easily manageable.  That’s how I like it.  Manageable.  I like being in control, centered in my life and the madness that swirls around me. It’s as if I have a fighting chance in life.  And it puts me in a better position to help the one who truly needs me now – my son. 

His progress into a world that can shatter every emotional wall ever built around one’s heart is - as is the case with everyone – faulty and off-balance.  The love I wish I could give to him, the comfort and knowledge I have engraved in my very core of life’s lessons – just isn’t enough.  Nor does he accept it.  But neither did I, because I couldn’t.  And he can’t.  Somehow the essence of nature refuses to allow the apprentice an easy way out.  For whatever reason, those venturing into adulthood have to venture alone – scratching, cutting, stabbing and bleeding along the path.  Every so often, a touch, a whisper, a loving glance is received and allows the heart the energy to grow and go on.

My prayer for you, is simply the same prayer I have for myself.  May you find your peace, your love, and your path free from the debris of heartbreaks and sadness.  And may you find yourself along the way.

Time to Change the World – at least the little corner we’re in

Good Morning Everyone! 

Today is the day – a new beginning.  No matter what the outcome, we will finally make history with our election.  Finally.  For as progressive of a country as we believe ourselves to be, we are so narrow-minded when it comes to our leaders.  We tend to survive in a hypocritical existence – screaming for change, forcing it onto others, yet voting for the same old song and dance as we’ve done for centuries.

Now…we can change all that.  And while I’m an Obama supporter – ready for the world he creates when he speaks, I understand we can have another…old, white, male at the helm.  The old regime scares me.  They are stoggy and cold and out of touch.  Maybe not with you, maybe not with those you know, but they are with me.  And I can’t be that different.  No.  I’m not.  I’m one of those hard working middle class single parents trying to make their way in this world.

I mean no harm to others – I believe in reaping what I sow – and I don’t easily take hand outs.  But I give.  Even when I cannot afford it, I give to those less fortunate.  and there are always those less fortunate. 

So remember that when you vote today.  You don’t have to vote to give all you own to those who are willing to take it all.  Nor do you need to vote for someone who believes that greed is good.  You need to vote with your heart and not your fear.  You need to vote for your fellow man and woman and child and senior.  You need to remember, that while you live in your little world, surrounded by all of your things – there are those who have more and those who have less.  We are all in this together whether you like it or not.  One man does not an island make.  Nor, can you exist without the farmer, the doctor, and the teacher who educates your children.  Remember them in this election.  Remember that the person you may call friend may not be able to afford the food they put on their table for their children.  Remember, that your friend will not always ask for help – whether it’s pride or fear.  Remember that when you deny higher taxes in a bracket you’ll never exist in.  Remember that when the huge number of retirees try to figure out what to do now that their savings have been wiped out by our recent financial debacle.

Remember – you have been given a right – you didn’t necessarily deserve – when you were given the right to vote.  Exercise that right.  Do it intelligently.  And remember when you do – that this great country that has given you that right, can’t feed, house or care for it’s citizens less fortunate than you.  Remember that they too, have the same rights.

Finally – I may feel pride in our Government

For the first time in … I think, maybe my lifetime … democrats have control of the House, the Senate and the presidency.  I couldn’t be happier.  I understand change does not, nor will happen overnight.  I’m not even sure what changes I am hoping to take place.  What I do know is that our current status quo cannot continue.

For eight years, our country has been the blathering, dimwitted bully forcing itself onto everyone around us – like the kid in school no one wants to play with, yet can’t ignore because they simply won’t go away. 

Personally, I have been embarrassed by our nation.  Afraid to travel. Afraid of what ridiculous and self-righteous event our government has thrown at the world today.  No more.  I’m done.  In another four years, when our new administration is done smoothing out the wrinkles, we can be a proud nation once again.  One that is allowed back on the world’s playground. 

People I know … members of the religious right, the military right, and the uniformed right – they all seem to think we are entering into a hell on earth – that… God Forbid … we may start helping those less fortunate and stop forcing “our way or the highway” views onto other, “less aware” countries.  I hope so.  I hope their greatest fears come true.  Because I’m sick of living in fear and shame.  I’m tired of being scared and wondering what else will go wrong. 

Damn right – we need change.  Whatever we’ve been doing as a country isn’t working.  That’s painfully and financially obvious.  If those righteous right living in their pre-fab ivory towers ever opened their eyes – they would see that their chosen ones are not there for the good of all – just the good of their followers.  The Right say we have been brainwashed – our nation will become a socialist nation and that our infrastructure will collapse.  hmmmm.  Really?  You mean to tell me that we are doing just fine right now?  Really.  Wow.  I suggest you all wake up and realize your glass house isn’t even a house – just a frame that pretends to hold walls…look closely…maybe even try and touch those walls…surprise!  They aren’t there.  Just like the Emperor and his new clothes.  Non existent.  Like our economy.  Our world leadership.  Our peace.  Our freedoms.  Nope.  they all went out the window years ago.  And you, my friend, help to toss your rights out along side the big boys. 

My turn. And the turn of all of us who set by while you pilfered our lives and vandalized our playgrounds.  We came back with our big brothers – and they are not happy.  It is going to take a lot of work to clean up the destruction you’ve caused – but it’s worth it.  Because underneath it all is a beautiful country, complete with flaws and nicks and scratches – but filled with love and kindness and intelligence – enough to share with everyone.  Even you, my righteous and indignant, misguided friends.  Yes.  Friends.  Unlike the past 8 years – we want unity.  Not division.  Peace, not war.  Forgiveness, not separatism. 

Obama – not McCain.

So…what’s happens to the dance when friendship isn’t enough?

And so the dance continues…but the tango is a ways down the road – today, I’m starting simple.  The boxstep.  Isn’t that the one where you take one step back, one to the side, one forward and another to the side closing off the square?  Repeat? Yeah…repeat.  Over and over again. 

I don’t know sometimes who is more confused.  Me – the one who wants so much to dance with the best of them, yet not sure I have more than two left feet to trip the light fantastic…or my partner, my friend, the one who says, “if only under different circumstances” the dancer between us – the one always searching for a new partner, when I’m right here willing to learn. 

So I’m here.  Standing on the sidelines.  With my friend.  While he looks for the right woman to date.  while I stand here.  Helping him choose.  And while he’s “single” we’ll go out.  As friends.  Not a “date.” Right.  Like that will work.  But he thinks it will.

I’m thinking otherwise.  How can you like someone and not make a move toward them?  How do you slow dance without touching?  How do you intertwine your life with another and not get tangled up in the emotions? 

So we venture to the  local festivals.  We walk and talk and eat and drink.  And laugh.  And talk about love and sex and what our lives were like before we walked together.  We’re honest with each other and talk about things people who are dating never talk about.  Because we have no fear.  No one to impress.  No one to leave.  We’re friends.  Who know about our intimate details…but won’t use them because we’re…

friends.

So is it enough?  Is this going to make me happy I showed up at the club?  Will he be content to spend time with me…just me and be there when I need a friend?  Or will he be too busy on the dance floor changing partners over and over again to notice I’m alone?  Or…Will the desire for staying friends outweigh the human desires of love and cause him to run for the hills simply because I’m now deemed off-limits?  And what am I supposed to do while he figures it out? 

Maybe nothing.  Maybe because he’s already figured it out and I’m the one confused.  That makes more sense.  I’m usually always confused.  I was confused the last 10 years of my marriage…I’ve been confused since I headed out on my own as a single parent.  Who am I kidding…I’ve been confused most of my life.  So today should be nothing new. 

I need to learn patience.  I need to realize that not every man is my future, or even my present.  I need to make decisions about my needs versus my wants, my realities versus my fantasies. 

How? 

The music is blaring, the beat is contagious and the dance is closer than I expected.  And I certainly do not want to leave the dance floor without exhausting all my possibilities…

Now…is my friend ready to show me the moves, or do I simply follow him to the floor and find another partner?

I’m confused – why doesn’t he know me?

In case I forgot…I have an ex-husband.  He pops up to remind me periodically.  Like a lot of divorced couples, we have a child.  Except, our child is 14 going on 30.  And my marriage lasted 23 years, not 10 like so many others.  No.  I was married for a lifetime.  Well, at least half of my life.  I’m thinking this is why getting back out there is so difficult for me.  Or why I want it so badly.

My friend – the man I want to move closer into my life – has no idea what I’ve really been through.  And I’m not sure I need to really dump it on him anytime soon.  Though…at some point he should know, because my past most definitely shaped who I am today.  But today, he doesn’t know.  And we aren’t at that point in our friendship where I can just call him up and vent.  Or ask for a pep talk.  Or anything.  Because I realize we aren’t as close as I want us to be, and I don’t know how to get us there.

Instead…I deal with my ex on my own.  He hasn’t done anything drastic, or even close to drastic.  He just is and just does.  Everytime I talk with him, I’m reminded as to why he is my ex.  This was a man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.  I loved him with all that I was and all that I could imagine.  I grew and opened up and ventured into a world filled with awe and wonder and imagination.  We loved and struggled and did everything together. 

And then it changed.  Or maybe I changed.  I found a new focus.  One that sincerely needed me and he said he understood.  He said he supported me.  And I loved him.  But he stepped back.  I reach toward him and he stepped further.  And he kept on stepping.  So I stepped aside and started finding my way alone.  No matter how hard I tried to share my way with him, he continued to step away.

Then the bottle sucked him in. Though he was willing and able, the bottle still drowned him in a fascinating love affair that I couldn’t compete with.  God knows I tried.  Over and over until I had no more to give.  Yet I kept on trying.  The whole time I tried, our son watched.  And struggled silently.  Reaching out to his father and never finding his hand reaching back.  When my husband stepped away from me, he also stepped away from his son.

And that is why he’s my ex.  Even though he has found his sobriety and himself, his path has lead him toward a different lifegoal than the one I’m working on.  And when I talk to him, I can tell.  Repeatedly.  He talks as if he never knew me and has no idea who I am.  Or was.  Or ever will be.  After 27 years, this man who entered into my life at the same time I entered adulthood doesn’t know who I am. 

It hurts.  It’s crushing and devastating and confusing as all hell.  I’m lost.  I try not to think that I stepped down the wrong path all those years ago, but it’s hard.  I have an incredible son…but I don’t know about the memories before and after when it comes to his father.  I don’t know if I will ever get over that betrayal.  I think I could have dealt with anything other than his denial of knowing me. 

This simply rocks my very foundation.  The trust was shattered.  I want to trust again, but I don’t know who he is anymore and I don’t know if I want to trust this man.  I want the other one.  Not as my husband, but at least as the man who was once my best friend.  I just want to know he remembers me.  He doesn’t have to love me, nor does he have to even like me.  But for God’s sake – he should at least remember 25 years of hearing my deepest, darkest secrets and have a fricken clue as to who I am.

This is what I want to talk about with my friend.  He’s a man, he’s divorced.  He would have a take on my husband that no one else I know has.  Everyone I know is female.  At least the people I trust.  Before I met my husband, most of my friends were male.  And I trusted them.  With all my secrets.  They never betrayed me.  But…then my ex came into the picture, and one by one, they all slipped away. And I let them go. Because I had him – my best of best friend.  Yet…he ended up betraying me. 

So now I’ve met someone I want to trust.  I want to talk with and share my soul.  And I can’t.  Not yet.  We’re still so new and our friendship hasn’t even been defined.  Not between us and not in my mind or my heart.

So here I am.  Baring my soul in a blog.  To mystery people – strangers.  Who don’t know me, don’t care yet slip in and out of other’s lives simply by reading their words.  How trusting is this? 

Or how stupid?

thoughts on a Saturday Afternoon

Dreams dashed

scattered throughout the broken glass of

shattered windows

closing off my soul as I think of you

wondering if you could ever see into my eyes

as I watch the clouds drift over your world

and think it would be so easy to step in

beside you

love you and be your friend

while you look the other way.

Monday Morning Blahs

Frustration released

floating from form-fitting facades

smothering an otherwise

free spirit

now crippled by the euphonious sounds

eminating from inmates writhing in their

self-inflicted deaththoes of supposed traumas

while butterflies ponder their next move.

Trying it again

I’m fat.  There.  I’ve said it.  I wish I wasn’t, but I am. 

How did I get here?  It was a series of things – but in the end, it was me.  I got myself here.  Then I just stopped caring because that’s what I do when I’m sad, or scared, or lonely.  Or fighting to save the life of another person.  I forget about me.

I always have.  It was always easier that way.  Letting go of me to help another.  It’s always been easier to justify.  When I’ve tried to save myself, I tend to feel “not worthy” and allow failure to creep back in.  And then you have fat Terri. 

I wasn’t always fat.  Nope.  I use to have a shape. (yes, I know fat is a shape – just not the one I’m looking for.)  I would never say I was beautiful, but I did look pretty good in my clothes.  Then I just stopped caring.  About the time of pregnancy.  Gaining 75 pounds was intense.  Then, I just never let it go.  Well, 85 pounds later and I’m just sick of it.  This is not how I want to start 50.

I have 363 days to lose something.  Anything.  Cut off my boobs.  That should drop 30 pounds right there.  But no.  Insurance doesn’t cover boob reductions.  Nor does it cover lapbands or any kind of weightloss program.  So, here I am.  80 pounds overweight with nothing but willpower to depend on.  Great.  Like that’s ever worked.

Maybe if I could remove “me” from the equation.  Maybe if I could just step aside and help that person over there named Terri who needs to lose 80 pounds.  Bet I could help her.  Bet I could tell her everything she needs to hear and support her like she needs to be supported.  But would she listen?  Is she capable of stepping out of her self-inflicted cesspool of pity and walk into the light?

I don’t know.

I do know that I can’t continue like this.  I’m miserable.  So, today, I walk back into Weight Watchers and give them my money and my fat.  And hope they have the answers and support I need.  Like everyone else who knows my journey – this isn’t easy.  And like everyone else – I’ve tried all the plans out there.  Now, I’m at wit’s end.  I can’t even crawl off into a corner and die – I have enough sustenance to support me for weeks.  And by the time I would start to die off I won’t want to die.  But I’ll be too weak to crawl back into the sun.

So, no.  That diet plan won’t work.  Weight Watchers…here I come again.  Wish me luck.

What do I want?

I know I want adult companionship…and I know I don’t have any idea how to pursue it. 

What do middle-aged, single parents do to find someone when they spend most of their time at work and hours commuting?  When do we become pushy in our emails?  Are 50 year old men any different that 16 year olds?  Are they still as insecure as they were back then?  Do they want the woman to pursue, or do they want to do the pursuing?  And who the hell has time to pursue in the first place?

As you have probably read…I have a friend.  He says he’s a friend.  We have a “date” in December for my Christmas party.  As friends.  We’ve both agreed to that since we are not looking for anything beyond friendship between us. Yet…I haven’t heard from him in over a week.  The last time I heard anything was a quick note in response to my quick note.  But … he hasn’t contacted me first.  Now…I don’t want to scare him off, yet I want to talk to him.  Friends can do that.  But, I’m not sure if he realizes that.  And I don’t want to get in the way of his life.  Argh!  I’m confusing myself!  WTF is wrong with me?  Why am I so scared of contacting someone who is a friend?  Why do I think it even matters?

And why the hell am I blogging about this?  Wait.  That answer I have.  I need to get it out.  See it.  Feel it and disect it.  It’s what I do.  Analyze the crap out of everything.  And now…I’m analyzing my insanity.  God I hate this.

But in the end…nothing will come of it.  I’ll still be me silently waiting for nothing to happen.  I won’t be disappointed.

Another day in paradise…yeah, let’s go with that

It’s November.  A time of Fall and crisp leaves, of fires in the hearth and of warm cocoa in big cups.  A time of joy and family and coming together again to sing the praises of loved ones.  It’s also a time of allergies and darkness and regression into happier times. 

It’s been a tough fall so far for me.  It’s in the 70′s here, things don’t turn color and fall, they just die, and the pollen count is insane.  There’s a rumor of 50 degree weather coming, but all that will mean is wearing a sweater while I try and figure out how to separate the lobes of my brain and find solace with my sinuses.  I don’t feel Christmasy, even though the signs are everywhere. 

I want snow.  Fluffy white, wet snow to fall from the sky and collect on the dead grass and tree limbs.  I want to build a snowman and make snow angels.  I want to throw snow at my friends.  I want my friends.

It’s lonely in a new state.  Even after 1 1/2 years, it’s still lonely.  I’m trying.  I venture out when I can.  I talk with people at work – but I’ve learned here that people on the job don’t get together after work.  I don’t know why, but no one does.  I had friends at my old job.  Good friends – ones I could hang with, laugh with and cry with.  But not here.  No one.

Church?  Tried that.  Everyone was in their own little world and I just didn’t have the where-with-all to break into their little cliques.  I couldn’t do it in high school, why the hell would I do it here?

So…what does that leave?  Hanging out with the parents at my son’s school.  At least those people I like.  But I’m just starting to get to know them.  It takes time.  Most of them are married though, so I’m the lone, single mom in the group.  (There is one who’s single…but…well, I’ll leave him out of this conversation.  At least for the moment.) By this age, everyone is caught up in their own lives that it’s hard to reach out to someone new.  I know this.  It doesn’t make it easier.

Then there’s family.  I know they love me.  But like me?  Not so sure at times.  They tolerate me at best.  Having been away from them for 18 years was a blessing for me…but coming home, meant they picked right back up where we left off.  It doesn’t help that I came home to start over.  It doesn’t help that they moved home to another state.  But I’m here.  And I’m stuck.  And I’m alone. Surrounded by family.

Then there’s the allergies.  My face feels like a flat rock has been surgically inplanted just under the surface from forehead to chin.  It makes my eyes heavy and my breathing … well, let’s say interesting at best. And that makes me tired.  So now I’m tired and sad.  Back in Alaska they would give you prozac and stick you in front of a light board.  Here?  nothing.  Take ZyrtecD and move on.  Oh and by the way…Happy Holidays! 

Chipper little shits.

And now for a different day…a different feeling

It’s amazing what one little white pill can do for your sinuses.  I feel human again.  Not the depressed, tired, miserable little girl I was yesterday.  Plus, the weather changed – just when I needed it to the most.  It’s not snowing, that will never happen here.  But it dropped into the 50′s.  I can accept that as fall weather.

Another day…thoughts threatening on the work front…job today…maybe tomorrow?  Who knows.  There was a time I felt safe in the work environment, but have discovered it was all a facade.  No one is ever safe.  It’s that fear that either maintains productivity or fosters failure.  I’m aiming toward the productivity and hoping for the best.

Companionship in an otherwise lonely world – now there’s where I could always use more.  More friends, more hugs, more love and support.  What I have is sufficient.  And for that I’m thankful.

Tomorrow…I plan on venturing out into this world while sitting behind a concession table at a local fundraiser.  Relax, laugh and enjoy life.  No worries for a few hours.  That’s how it should be. Maybe my secret someone will magically appear and bring a slightly bigger smile to my face…or maybe I just dreamed him.  Someday, maybe I’ll know.

Until then.  I’ll just be me and live through the day like I do every other one – with the thin veil of life given to those who dream.

Darkness of hope

A drop of hope falls upon

the shriveled remnants of a dream

bringing to life

a purpose unyielding to the pressures

propagating the passage of time

and love

and the glimmer of light

in a little girl’s eye

translated through time

into the harshness

surrounding the staggering stillness

sought to ease the pain

as she crawls through the

smattering of smiles pasted in the clouds

closing in

while she sleeps in silence.

When did I grow up?

Let alone almost be 50?  So is life what happens when you’re busy living? 

My life still seems to exist in songs from yesterday - mostly they sing of dreams and fears and lost innocence and loves.  I feel them today just as I did all those days – years – ago. 

It’s just that inbetween…I had a life.  But I didn’t see it happening quite the way it turned out.  It started out okay, but then it took a left turn somewhere…Sure I had fun.  I even have an incredible and wonderful son to show for it and I wouldn’t trade him for anything.  It’s just that…the Moody Blues are singing:

“I wonder if you care
I wonder if you still remember
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams”

And I wonder…do you?  Remember?

I do.  I haven’t forgotten any of it.  That’s the problem.  I remember like it was yesterday.  Except it is yesterday.  And it’s done and over with.  And somehow I forgot to get on with things.  Now, 30 years later, I find myself in the same heartache – and dreams.  I’m alone and missing all the what if’s that popped in and out of my life while I tried to live it hiding behind the shy exterior of a little girl in a marriage that ended years before I said goodbye.

“Listen to the tide slowly turning
Wash all our heartaches away
We’re part of the fire that is burning
And from the ashes we can build another day”

Another day.  Imagine.  For what?  To wake up and realize I missed out on my career?  A better life? 

Yeah.  That’s what another day will give me.  Hope.  Because it’s not over yet.  Not by a long shot.  The problem is…I just don’t know how to get it started.  I want to go back to that moment I chose my path back in the eighties.  I want to rewalk it until I find that next path I can step off with a little more sanity than I have right now.  A little more chance.  A little more youth.  A little more faith in myself.

“And when the music plays
And when the words are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time”

 Sometimes I just want it all to stop.

Dance class may have begun

My partner has chosen me – now whether or not class has begun, I’m not sure.  What I do know is that there’s an interest.  The moves have increased over the last couple of days…only to take a break over the holiday weekend due to family, obligations and distance.

Then they all lead to the first date – the first class.  It’s safe and secure.  It’s a company christmas party complete with co-workers and alcohol.  This should be interesting.  To drink or not to drink…not even a question.  The true question is…will my dance partner?  And how will the dance progress?  Will we make it to an actual dance or just a review of upcoming steps?

Our time together will be close to 8 hours…a lot can happen in 8 hours.  Partners should be able to learn a lot about each other in that amount of time…at least enough to know if they want to continue their potential dance lessons.

I’ll keep you posted.

today

Anticipatory joy slowly reveals itself

through half noticed desires

settling back

in an unconscious crisis of

loneliness and empty promises and

the feelings of missed chances

forever scattered in the sands of

what once was forever

but is now only

a memory of life long ago

in a foreign field of dead farms

yielding

to the growing green tip of

tomorrow.

Thunderstorms, Christmas and a little Texas insight

Thunder.

There is something so incredible about listening to the thunder.  It is something I missed living 18 years in Alaska.  We didn’t have thunder storms there.  But here in Texas?  It’s the reminder of why I do like living here. 

We are having our first real thunder storm of the season right now.  I have my windows open and the sky is a glowing shade of gray.  there’s a slight wind and the rain is gently tapping on my patio.  As I type, I can sit and look out my back window and watch the cars silently pass by on the highway.  Those that are traveling east…are headed off to parts unknown.  Maybe to Houston, maybe to the coast.  Maybe to the local tree farm for their Christmas holiday ritual.

Those cars traveling west are headed home. Most of them carry a tree or two strapped to their roof, some stuffed into their trunk while others ride majestically in the back of their pickup bed.  You can tell the farm the trees come from by the netting surrounding their green branches.  Red and white netting?  From the most popular tree farm in South Central Texas.  The Elgin Christmas tree farm.  You can count those returning home with trees…each one is an afternoon of adjusting and decorating. 

It couldn’t be a better afternoon for getting into the christmas mood.  With the thunder comes the first hint of fireplace offerings.  Thin wisps of smoke slowly rise from rarely used chimneys and mingle with the hints of clouds dropping low to the fields surrounding our subdivision.  Field mice scurry under the brush that rolls into the corners of fenced in yards while the birds seek shelter under the red and gold leaves in the few trees nearby.

Sometimes, when all is quiet, I’m gently surprised by the beauty that sneaks up on me on the outskirts of farmland here in Texas.

You

who are you

to walk into my life

and attach my attention

as if it belongs to you

and you alone

while I struggle to maintain

a semblance of sanity

throughout my attempts at

avoiding adolescence fascinations

in a world of middle-aged dreams

of a new beginning

for love

A new boss and a new deck…but who’s dealing?

Yesterday, we all got to have an informative one-on-one with our new boss. 

He reminds me of a snake oil salesman.  He’s slick.  He’s a fast talker.  He has all the right ideas and knows how to go forward and implement them.  He speaks for the owner – he says, he says. 

He’s so full of shit.

I have no idea what he thinks of me…but he has no idea that I’m intelligent and observant and as conniving as the best of them.  I just keep that part of me underwraps.  Never show all your cards.  Ever.  Not even if you hold the winning ace.  You may need it at a better time down the road, so keep your cards safe.  But don’t forget to play. 

Never forget to play.  And always play to win.  If you don’t, then why else would you even be at the table?  Expect to lose a few hands here and there…but that’s okay.  It’s important to lose sometimes – it relaxes the other players. 

For me…it’s a smile, a toss of the hair and a widening of the eyes.  In a man’s world, I can always play the female card and win.  It’s ridiculous how easy it is.  I guess it helps that I’m blonde.  Sometimes, another player knows my game.  But usually, we’re playing together against a common enemy.  Once my teammate recognizes the play, he’s in it hard and fast. 

This time around…I’m not sure who, if any, my teammates are.  There’s a huge “everyone for themselves” atmosphere hanging over my office.  And I’m the only female player in the group.  Right now…it’s time to fallback and observe.  All the while smiling and agreeing to whatever is tossed my way.  I need to see my outs, my options, my possibilities.

Then, and only then, will I strike. 

Yet, I’m not striking to take them down.  I don’t care about them.  What’s important is me and my wellbeing.  My job.  My security.  My life.  So when I strike, it will only be when I can have complete control over MY future.  Only then.

In the meantime…deal the cards…there’s a new player at the table…

And we danced…

it was…

simply put…

incredible.

With the touch of his hand, I stepped into the light, onto the floor, and … in a somewhat unsure fashion … danced like I have never danced before.  It was intoxicating and terrifying all at the same time.  Now…all I want to do is remain on the dance floor, twirling and dipping and moving in and out with my partner.  But, again, I’m just a silly naive little girl who may need to open her eyes and see that it is truly – only a dance.

No matter how incredibly pulsating the music might be…it will always end…and couples will either hold each other til it begins again, or move around the room finding the next one who might bring a truer tempo to their steps.

And where am I once the dance ends…

Gently maneuvered back to my seat…to sit the next one out…yet dream of the next one.  Dream I will…because to dance is to feel alive.  And I’m willing to wait for the return of my partner – knowing that as long as I’m at the dance…anything can happen.

Anais Nin

“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.” – Anais Nin

What an incredible woman – ahead of her time, yet a commander of herself and her environment. To merely catch up to a moment of her life, her loves and her desires – to be one with oneself and ones surroundings. And to know what is truly important to you and your most inner wants and desires. Simply awe inspiring.

Her diaries with or without additions of her erotica are justifiably some of the most incredible spotlights into a woman of the twentieth century.

I want to live vicariously through a woman like Anais Nin – free of all guilt and social responsibility. Able to present the appropriate vision to the world around her, yet never sacrifice who she truly was.

A true woman.

Fantasy Lovers

to be seen

through your eyes

where I am strong and

brave and amazing

and willing

to be touched

by your hands

your fingers

your words of support

and love

no

not love

that’s not allowed where we’re going

just respect

and passion

and more honesty than

I’ve had in years

disguised by fears and

mock bravery

filtered through visions of

moist

smouldering

desires designed by two people

not needing anything other

than the light of

one

Whose game is this?

your hands

reach out and cup my face

and pull me into a realm

of insanity

I never expected

to fall into yet

shudder against the walls

of mock honesty

as I search for a hand

hold to claw my way out

before I drown

in your words and your

desires of scattered lovers

combined in your

tattered book of

lost women

needing the salvation of

your

lust

so what happened to us?

I’m watching a documentary on the 70′s – the decade I grew up in.  I was 10 when the decade started – turned 20 just as it was ending.  The decade that shaped who I am and what I believed in – and who I would want the adult Terri to be.  My decade.  The 70′s.

But…what the hell happened?  Why is it that sometimes I’m the only one who seems to remember everything?  Why is it that everything I do, every feeling I feel, every choice I make seems to date back to those days…30 years ago?

To this day, I cry when I hear about the shootings at Kent State.  Why?  Because it was a horror we should never forget.  We, as United States citizens have the right to protest what we do not believe in.  We should be able to do so peacefully and without fear of retribution – in this case – death.

And what about dancing?  And gas wars?  And Nixon?  These are the things that shaped who I am – what I believe and what I teach my child. 

Friends of mine danced on Bandstand.  American Bandstand.  Yeppers.  It was the 70′s and they were incredible.  Every now and then…I can watch a retrospect and … sure enough, there is Beth and Mike – dancing in the spotlight – matching clothes and everything.  They were awesome. 

Or how about our beliefs on marijuana and cocaine?  Natural…right?  I never knew…after years of analyzing my friends as they used drugs…that cocaine would capture me the way that it did – that I would be, what many describe as, an addict.  Marijuana?  to this day, I still consider it to be a safe drug – much safer than anything alcohol can offer us.

And what about Watergate? Agnew’s resignation? Nixon’s Resignation? Ford’s presidency, pardon, and Betty Ford drinking her life away and into recovery? What about Carter being attacked by a killer rabbit?  Am I the only one who…as a teenager…was paying any attention?  I swear I was just like everyone else.  I was having fun, talking about boys, mixing sloe gin fizzes in the back of Sandy’s 65 orange mustang…and wishing to God I could simply get to second base.

But through all of that…I still remember.  I cared – and sometimes I wonder why.  Why me and no one else of my generation?  Why is it that there are so many of “my” generation coming into being and yet…they act as if the 70′s never happened?  What’s the fricking deal with that?

Did they get lost in the Disco?  Did they get lost in the Smiley Face that was inescapeable during our decade of growth?  Did the Love’s Lemon shampoo affect their brains?

I don’t know.  I really don’t get it.  The 70′s have never left me.  I’ve grown.  I’ve evolved – yet, my entire life is squarely shaped by this decade. 

Someone.  Please.  Tell me I am not alone.

My Strength

I am so much stronger

than you give me credit for

my path has not been

one of simplistic moments

lined neatly together with a

pretty pink crayon

but instead jumbled and

truncated through the darkness

and incomplete folly of

destitute dreamers barely skimming

life’s idealistic fantasies off the top of some

sophomoric dime store drama queen’s

coke float as she giggles her way into

one petty relationship after another

all the while wondering why she can

never find the love she so desperately wants

and sees in the shadows of my

life as it once was and will be again

someday

when I climb out of my

self-imposed version of a

fogged over glass house

trying to read the backward texts

of salvation

etched into the vague memories of

a little girl’s dream

complete with

cotton candy clouds

and a box of 64 perfectly

sharpened crayolas

there for the taking under an

illusionary rainbow of

tomorrow.

Little Hitler on the workfront

I’m scared.

I’m truly scared.

Our new boss is a tyrant.  I have never dealt with anyone so twisted and filled with himself as this man seems to be. Most recently, we had a task given to one of the men in my office.  He is a professional.  He holds a Master’s in Business Economics and Management.  This man is no slouch and has nearly 30 years of financial experience behind him.  What he doesn’t do is make PowerPoint presentations.  Nor is he proficient in Sharepoint.  Why does he need to be?  It’s not what he was hired to do, nor paid to do.  Yet, because he didn’t fulfill the task as requested – now, therefore is an idiot and the cause of great consternation among his peers.

WTF?  This is insane!  There are two scathing emails that went department wide chastising this man.  For what? Not making a fricking PowerPoint presentation that meets this Hitler’s standards? 

Yes.  I’m scared.  I was hired because of my abilities and my degree.  I am not a secretary, nor an administrative person.  Yet, it is my responsibility tomorrow to take comprehensive notes at our kickoff meeting tomorrow, gather personal information of all staff involved and pass the information on to all who may require it.  Then…somewhere in there, I’m supposed to manage my job in an unrealistic timeframe this man has given me.  His goal is to have us all fired. 

I’ll be damned if I let this man win.

overcast days…

It’s overcast today.  I’m overcast too.  I don’t know why…except I’m broke and it’s Christmas…but I am “seeing” someone, so in that regards, life is better today than last year.  Except…

is it?

Sometimes I don’t know.  An old friend pointed out that I tend to be deeply introspective on life.  I am.  I know it.  It’s not that I spend my time wallowing in depression – I just know that I’m supposed to learn something.  My greatest fear is repeating the lessons over and over until I learn from them.  (see financial) With life…I don’t want to repeat my mistakes – my hills and valleys – my rollercoaster of a ride through the Indian summer of my life. 

The man I’m seeing?  He makes my heart sing when I’m with him.  But are we dating?  no.  We’re friends…good friends, close friends…but friends.  He’s determined we’ll stay closer longer if we keep it as friends.  And he’s not “that” attracted to me anyway…yet, we communicate 4 or 5 days a week and see each other at least once a week.  Tomorrow, we have a lunch “date” planned.

Tonight?  He’s fixed me up with his ex to chaperone our kids at a light festival.  Somewhere in the conversation he did say he was either brilliant or nuts to put the two of us together…I honestly don’t know which.  But I can tell you, I’ll be on my toes tonight.

So what do I want from this?  I really don’t know.  I want what we have – I like that.  I wish I could spend more time with him – but that may be because I’m hungry for adult company – probably why he fixed me up with his ex-wife tonight.  He knows I’m sheltered between work and being a mom and new to texas.  I believe he really, truly cares about me and my happiness.

But what else?  What do I want tomorrow?   Anything?  See…that’s where I really don’t know.  And that’s so odd for me.  Usually, by now, I have a clue.  Maybe because we really aren’t “dating” maybe because he’s not interested in me “that” way…maybe because I have everything I need right now with him.  I just don’t know.

And maybe that’s why I feel as overcast as today’s weather.  It’s been so long since I’ve been comfortable just going along for the ride.  Maybe I feel age catching up…maybe I don’t want to be alone like my sister…maybe, I truly enjoy having a male companion and would like to believe I won’t lose that feeling again like I lost Mike.

Or maybe…I’m afraid I’m not going to be satisfied with me, or him, or us, or anyone.  Maybe, I’m still hampered by the fear of being alone.  I never thought I would ever feel that way.  I always saw me as the one who would revel in singlehood.  I swore for years – if anything ever happened between Mike and I – I would stay single.  Never, ever wanted to spend that much of an effort on a man or a relationship.  It was exhausting and … in the end … a failure.

But…I don’t feel that way today.  I want a man by my side – around me, protecting me, standing beside me, loving me, cheering me on.  I want the whole package.  And I want to give back to him.  This current man has already shown me that I have so much in me to give.  I’m not dead.  I’m not even old.  I’m a living, loving creature with a world to give. 

I just want to give it to someone who is willing to take it and give back just as much. 

I just want to love and be loved.

Is that so much to ask?

Songbird…and snow…and walls…and hands

“For you, there’ll be no more crying,
For you, the sun will be shining,
And I feel that when I’m with you,
It’s alright, I know it’s right

To you, I’ll give the world
To you, I’ll never be cold
cause I feel that when I’m with you,
It’s alright, I know it’s right.” – Christine McVie

This is how I feel…except I’m not in love (yes, I know that’s another song…just not the song for this blog).

The fog hasn’t lifted from Austin, nor from my brain – but I do know that I look forward to our time together and I miss him on the days we are not.  Again, I’m sure it has everything to do with the need for adult company – yet, I know – if I look hard enough I can find that elsewhere.  No, with him I feel comfortable – almost comfortable in my own skin – and I haven’t felt that for a very long time.

So is that what this is all about?  Finding me again?  I think so.  I think that is the gift he gives me.  Myself.  And I’m starting to like myself all over again. 

For the last few years, all I’ve done is react to crap around me.  It’s been lonely and sad and very difficult.  Yet, it’s been necessary and I’ve succeeded in surviving.  But at what price?  I lost my marriage, my confidence, my ability to be half of two.  Instead, I became what I was before I found love – half of me.  You never know your missing something until it drops into your psyche and fills you with the light of life and love.  You never realize how tall those walls have become from the years of sandy buildups and shoring them up with the leftover twigs found by rumaging through the underbrush.  I’ve rebuilt the walls, though they aren’t as tall as they were in the past – they are a lot stronger.  When you’ve been hurt – really hurt – you understand the pain sung about in countless songs.

Yet…there’s always the chance for new beginnings – for that chance of finding someone who is capable of taking bits and pieces from your walls and slowly tear them down to find your hand.  That’s what I want.  The hand to finally reach out for me – the hand that will guide me though the aftermath of the battles and show me the new growth attempting to rise up through the snow. 

The hand that will show me life still exists long after the fairytale love dies.

To sleep, perchance…

sleep escapes

once again

from the far reaching conclaves

carved from my psyche

as I struggle to find fleeting passages of

dreams designed to carry me away

into a world of breezes and brooks and

the echoing of nature

instead of the daily debacle of life

pounding incessantly in my head

and heart

and leading me into the darkness

of one.

Sometimes…I think the nightmares will never end

It’s been over two years since I lived with my ex-husband.  It’s been more than two years since he crossed over into a world of sobriety.

Yet…

The years before I left, the years before he sobered up and declared life worth living…those years creep back into my consciousness and remind me of how painful and terrifying my life was.

I can’t believe I actually allowed myself to live that way – to allow my son to live in that environment.  I can’t believe that I thought I could save the day – save my ex – and maintain a family for my son.  And I thought I could handle it all – the pain, the abuse, the fear, the nightmares.

Last night…I had one of the nightmares.  This time – he was cheating.  With two women.  Both rubbing my face into it.  And no one believed me.  Everyone told me to let it go, forgive him and move on.  I was only embarrassing myself by challenging the women, the events, the sham of a marriage I was living in. 

But I couldn’t let it go.  I couldn’t stop fighting – stop demanding answers – stop attacking the facade built up around me as seen by those peripheral players telling me to calm down.

Then I woke up.  I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t sleep.  And I couldn’t get my ex-husband out of my head.  I tried.  God knows I tried.  I even tried to think of the new man in my life – the one I barely know yet…for whatever reason feel safe with.  The one that probably cheated on his wife thus causing his divorce.

Was that the nightmare?  Was I confusing the two men in my head?  Was I taking the years of mental abuse dished out by my ex when he drank himself into a pickled, pathetic shell of a human and comparing them to the pain of being the last to know your are no longer sexually appealing to the man you sleep with?

Sleep escaped me – and for the rest of the night, all I could see was the tortured battles of unwilling participants – those partners who struggle and fight to maintain a semblance of love and respect and trust in their marriage while the other one – the unhappy soul – picks at any scab available hoping to find the one that leads them out of their self-imposed hell.

If you are not happy – truly not happy – then get out.  Don’t waste everyone’s time, don’t drag the other through your swamp of stagnant dreams, don’t pretend you can last forever when your forever lasted only one night.  Let it go and move on.

This torture – these nightmares – are not what I signed up for all those years ago when I promised to love and honor.  What I had was wonderful, beautiful and fulfilling.  What I ended up with was hell. 

And I never want to go back.

Candy Making 101…pretest

I’ve stepped into the world of the unknown.  Somehow, words just spewed forth from my mouth without my brain to intercede with the madness.

I’m making fudge, pralines and divinity tomorrow.

I have never made any of those.  I remember watching my mom make them when I was a kid…but I haven’t been a kid in … let’s just say a few presidents ago.  And my mom is gone, so I have no one to ask for guidance.  But I’m diving in…because I said…

get this…

I make a killer fudge.

What the hell?????  How did those words even escape my mouth?  What was I setting myself up for?  Whose insane entity inhabited my body long enough to brag about candy making talents? God, I’m such an idiot.

But…here I go.  Armed with a 1953 Better Homes and Gardens cookbook handed down to me by an elderly and long since passed relative I will master the mysteries of holiday candy making. 

I have baked incredible cheesecakes, created countless recipes for meals and know how to cook with the ease of sight and smell.  Recipes?  unheard of except only to trigger a new idea.  I’ve won chili cookoffs, had my potato salad disappear at company parties, and have had countless people ask me for my “secrets.” 

Yet candy…well…that always looked so hard.  You have to measure, boil, not boil, get it to “candy temp” whatever the hell that is, perform water droplets and ribbons, stretch and roll.  WTF?  Seriously.  That cannot be easy.  Cooking is easy.  Baking is easy – albeit a little more precise in measurements, but still easy.

Yet…he wanted a good fudge recipe.  And I said I had my mom’s and it was amazing.  Then…like the horse’s ass I can be at times…I boasted that she always made fudge and divinity at Christmastime and I LOVED her divinity.  Of course…so does he.  Oh…and did she ever make pralines?  How the hell should I know?  I’m not even sure what a praline is?  I’m from the west coast – we eat avacados and artichoke hearts on our pizza.  The only reason I know about Divinity is because my mother grew up on a farm in Kansas – with a mother from tennessee.  Oh…and she was born in 1916.  They used to do a lot of baking and candy making back then.

But I’m from the decade of peace, love and understanding.  And Big gulps.  And fast food.  If you wanted “old fashioned” candy…well, you just drove over to Buena park and went to the candy store at Knott’s Berry farm.  So easy. 

But…not today.  Not for me.  Tomorrow I channel the spirit of my mother and her mother past…as I try to become yet another facet in my oddly shaped zirconia stone of womanhood.

And…like every woman before me…I’m doing it for a man.

2008/2009

so here it is…the cusp of 2009 and what have we done?  Not as a nation, not as a whole people, but as a person.  You.  Me.  What have WE done to make this a better place to live?  Or did we? 

I’m pretty sure all I did was try to survive.  It started out all bells and whistles, flowers and birds singing.  I thought I had control over something that didn’t even exist.  Then…what did I do?  I got a divorce.  I know – most everyone expected it to have come sooner than later.  But it finally happened in April.

Funny that.  I feel like I’ve been divorced for years.  Probably because my marriage was a sham for the last 6 years.  It’s done.  It’s over with.  And now it’s time to move on.

What else did I do?  I settled into me.  Sort of.  I’ve decided it’s okay to slow things down.  Not to own a house.  Not to go on vacations and spend money like it grew on trees.  Of course, I didn’t figure all that out until I tried to buy a house, went on a spendy vacation and spent all the money I had in savings trying to make everyone happy.

Nope.  Now it’s just for me.  My son is growing up and really doesn’t seem to need as much as he once did.  Is it because he’s older?  Or is it because, like me, he’s settled into our new life?

And next year?  What do I want?  (now is the time to gather your tomatoes to throw at me…) I want the “relationship” I’m currently in to grow and blossom into something wonderful.  It’s there.  The possibility.  I know it is.  But will it happen?  Who knows.  There are so many variables.  But in the meantime…I fully intend on enjoying myself and everything he has to offer me.  I’ll probably end up hurt – but after Mike?  I don’t think anyone can ever hurt me like that.  All my friend can do is tell me the truth and leave it up to me to weave it into something nonexistent.  That’s what I do best.  Live in a dreamworld.

What else?  Move into Austin.  Get the hell out of the country.  I am not a country girl.  I may be a mountain girl, a beach girl – but I don’t do country very well.  I’m a city girl at heart.  And that’s where I’m going.  Back to the city.  Due date – end of March.  Not soon enough – yet too soon when it comes to packing.

That’s it.  Nothing else planned.  A cruise in February with a close friend.  Then, nothing.  I’m done for the year.

Let’s hope it turns out better than 2008.

Which, by the way was MUCH better than 2007…which was MUCH better than 2006.

I’m starting to like the trend…

late night sleepless dreams

wandering hands

reach out to

caress your eyes

your face

your heart

as you pull me in

wanting more

yet not

allowing me to

give you

what you need

what I need

to complete you

and my desires

my fulfillment of you

in a fantasy

of commitment

a dream

best kept

asleep

New Year’s and New Men

Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m thinking.

Falling for someone who has never lied to me about his feelings – his vision of us – his wants, needs and desires.  No, he has always been as honest as he can – yet…I hold onto the words he says in between the stone-cold sober honesty.

The moments when we are in each others arms, caressing and holding and sharing pillow talk.  Those moments.  When everything is striped away and there’s nothing between us but skin and secrets.  It’s those moments that give me hope, because he’s never said anything beyond what has been said in the non-passionate moments.  He just says them with a more honest spin.  He says them as if they are truly coming from his heart and not his controlled, logical brain.

He says I’m different.  He doesn’t want to ruin what we have.  If I were any other woman…this would be moving at a much faster rate.  He likes me.  He enjoys me.  And, unlike 95% of all the other women out there – I’m the whole package.  That’s what scares him.  At least that’s what he says and that’s what I can believe.

He didn’t see ME coming into his life.  Nor did he imagine that a woman he would not normally find himself physically attracted to, could open his eyes and his heart to possibilities of a future he believed could never exist.  And he certainly didn’t see it coming the first year our kids were in high school.

Oddly enough – I see that as the biggest barrier between us.  Our kids.  My son?  Perfectly fine with the idea of his mother finding love again.  He saw me go through hell, and wants me happy.  If this man makes me happy – then so be it.  If he hurts me…well…(okay…starting to see my friends point of view.) Then there is his daughter.  She lives with her mother and sees her father weekly.  They have a great relationship, but what she has seen of his dating is that – from what I can tell – there have been a few different women coming in and out of her life.  Her mom?  I don’t even think she dates.  Oh…and did I mention our kids are very close friends?   Same group for the last 2 years.  His daughter is dating my son’s best friend.  Pretty close group.

So…I’m starting to see his fears for us having any kind of relationship right now.  Except – it’s surrounded by a mass of “What ifs” and I’ve learned, you just can’t live life that way.  Yet, for all of his fears and what ifs, he doesn’t want to lose me.  He has told me repeatedly he wants me in his life.  And that’s where I want to be.

So…for the present…I need to back off.  I need to get my emotions under control.  I need to not look like a desperate woman who has only one man in her life. 

Oh God.  I need to date other men.

New Year’s Eve

And so it begins

the new year

filled with hope

and possibilities

and yearnings of a new beginning

but

where are you

why aren’t you here

by me

where you belong

where you should be

why not me

when I need you

want you

and am willing to give you

everything

without question

without threat

without expecting anything else

than a simple

nod

and kiss

and caress

nothing more than

you

are willing to give

to everyone else

but me

who means so much more

than those who line

your cage

with their petty processes

of artifical love

nuisance of words

It never ceases

this disaster of words

that continue to fall from

crevasses never witnessed by

sane beings

only those who feed upon the

depths of depression

and love

and life

as I try feebly to

capture the essence of

sanity

and tell you how I feel

when I’m not with you

instead of the

disaster

that spews toward you

released from

the fear of being alone

in a world

where I can no longer survive

without

the touch of another.

Skateaway – yesterday and today

She gets rock n roll a rock n roll station
And a rock n roll dream
She’s making movies on location
She don’t know what it means
But the music make her wanna be the story
And the story was whatever was the song what it was
Roller girl don’t worry
D.J. play the movies all night long

I remember hearing this song back in the dark ages of the late 70′s.  A friend said the song was “my” song.  It was me that Dire Straits was singing about.  I was a flattered 19 year old, stepping out onto the brink of adulthood – no holds barred, nothing to keep in check, the world at my feet.

My life WAS the songs I heard on the radio.  I lived for music – the poetry of my soul.  My hopes, my dreams, my loves, my failures.  They were all there on the radio. 

But the roller girl she’s taking chances
They just love to see her take them all

Chances.  I remember those.  I took them head on with a smile on my face.  Looking back, I see a girl who was never afraid.  But I know better.

I was always afraid.  Except now, it’s more noticeable.  I’m more cautious.  I don’t pick up and dust off nearly as well as I once did.  Probably because I’ve learned – you can’t always live in that dream world.  Sometimes, no matter how hard you fight reality – Reality creeps in and rules the day.

When I was much younger – before my skateaway days – I never really dreamed.  Reality was horribly there – every day – telling me what I could or could not do.  It was painful and blantant.  And it never left my side.  Nope.  Love was never coming.  No white knight.  No castles.  No beautiful wedding gowns flowing over the fields as my prince swept me into his arms.  Never as a young girl did I dream of that.  I was different.  I knew it.  No matter what – it was never going to happen for me.  I was told that – I was shown that.  I believed that.

Then the wheels hit my feet.

Hallelujah here she comes queens rollerball
Enchante what can I say dont care at all
You know she used to have to wait around
She used to be the lonely one
But now that she can skate around town
Shes the only one

I could fly.  I could reach out and pass by all the hurt and the pain of childhood.  I was invincible and alive.  Nothing was going to bring me down as I sailed away on avenues never available to me before.  And that is how I met him.

I was on top of my game.  I wasn’t needy.  I wasn’t vulnerable.  I was everything I could ever want to be.  I was me.  He was the truck grazing my hip and the seduction of the city.  He was my taxi driver – and I was his matador.  And I fell in love.

No fears alone at night she’s sailing through the crowd
In her ears the phones are tight and the musics playing loud

Somewhere along the way – the phones were removed from my ears.  The music faltered and quieted.  But it was okay.   I had the dreams I had never allowed myself.  I had the music we created together.  I had him and I had love. 

Yet somewhere, somehow, over the years – the music ceased to exist.  I don’t remember even losing it.  But I do remember waking up one day and realizing it was gone.  It was all gone.  The music, the dreams, the love, the feel of the wind on my face as I sailed into the crowd.  I wasn’t sailing.  The crowd wasn’t parting.  My feet were like lead weights.  The whirlwind of fantasy was no longer something I could see.  Instead, there were traffic jams and horns blaring and the pain of a gray city.

I wanted out. I wanted my skateaway.  I wanted my freedom and life back.

I rediscovered the song just a little while ago.  I rediscovered music again.  The dreams, the laughs, the hopes, the falls.  It’s all there.  Again.  In my life. And I’m starting to feel whole.  It’s almost as if I’m 19 all over again – and the blip in the middle was only that – a blip.  Yet…I cannot deny the pain of losing a dream.  Of losing what I thought was my forever.  I don’t know if I can ever allow myself to feel that way again.  I don’t know if I even want to or if I have the energy to try. 

But she’s back.  That rollergirl – she’s taking chances.  And this time…I know to be careful of the trucks and the taxis and the traffic surrounding me.  I know…the wheels on my feet can slip on the pavement.  I also know…I can fly…

Come slippin and a slidin
Lifes a rollerball
Slippin and a slidin
Skateaway thats all
Shala shalay hey hey skateaway
Shes singing shala shalay hey hey
Skateaway

morning after

So here it is…the morning after.

I have a sinking feeling – and I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s the realization of …

reality.

Maybe that’s it.  Because sometimes – it rears up and headbutts you when you least expect it.

I wasn’t expecting it.

But I think – I’ve been headbutted.  And, I don’t know why.  Nothing different was said.  Nothing different happened.  It was actually better than usual.  A real dinner at a real restaurant.  A drive in the new car.  Honesty and compliments.  Real discussions – not the kind you have to pass the time.  A comfort we hadn’t had before. 

Then I went home.  I even had an email checking on me when I got there (he knows I’m anal with email). A wonderful little story to keep me happy through the night.  It worked.  It all worked.  I was happy.

Then I slept.  And then I woke up.  Nothing.  nothing said, nothing done, nothing. 

Yet…

I have this undeniable feeling and I don’t know why.  Like…it’s over before it’s begun. 

Maybe it’s me.  Maybe he’s not what I’m looking for.  Maybe I’ve moved into self-destruct mode and I’m preparing to sabotague the relationship – excuse me, the non-existant relationship.  Remember?  He doesn’t want one.  I remember.  We even talked about it.  I even said I didn’t want one – they are too difficult.  To have a relationship allows you to be hurt.  And I don’t want to be hurt again.

Yet…

I do want a relationship.  I’ve slipped over the line.  Maybe that’s why I feel the way I do.  I’ve already broken my word of no ties.  But he doesn’t know that.  Not from my words or actions. 

No.  I’m the only one who knows.  Which means…I have to be the one to act.

So…I’m going to find someone else.  I don’t know how and I don’t know when.  But I’m going to start looking.  And then…

I’ll move on.

And I’ll be sad.

Because he really is a wonderful man.  Just a very wonderful, scared and scarred man.  And I’m not sure his heart is ready to mend.  Not with the effort it will take to mend it.  I’m not sure I want to be the one who expends that effort.

I think I have that t-shirt.

not me?

How could you tell me

about her

and how she made you feel

when you saw her

only once

yet she completes you

makes you

allows you

to feel things you’ve held

close to your chest

like cards

like me

afraid to open up and

live

really live

in a world where others can see

your pain

your laughter

your heart

because when you do

when you allow someone in

allow them to touch you

in ways you’ve only dreamed

you allow the sand

of protection

to leak out

pouring through an opening

no bigger than

a pinprick

but big enough to forgo

cauterization

before you can protect your soul

from the pain of another

who may fill your needs

as you push me away

I crouch down trying

to refill my hourglass

knowing the grains are lost

forever

in your words of

love for another.

I figured it out

I am the keeper.

That explains everything…at least in a weird, kind of warped way. 

But what happens when you find the keeper when you aren’t ready to keep anything?  See?  That’s where the problem lies.  So, what do you do. 

You hold on…but not too tightly.  You push away…but not too hard.  You tell the person how much you care and how happy you want them to be.  You suggest options that will keep them busy and preoccupied, yet have no real chance of permanency.  And you try not to let them get too far out of your sight.  Because maybe…one day…you may want the keeper.  They are so hard to find, and it would really be a pain in the ass to have to go looking again.  Especially when you realize you had the keeper all along and you just let her go.

Once I figured that out, everything started to make sense.  The intimancy…up to a point…the handling with kid gloves…the emails, the phone calls, the pep talks, the assistance in chosing neighborhoods for my big move, the help in securing the apartment.  Everything.  Yes, they are truly the actions of a good friend – but they are also the actions of a protector.  I’m not use to being protected.

No…I’m use to diving head on into something without no one to seemingly care about my circumstances.  No one has ever thought me to be incapable of dealing with an unsafe environment.  Hell, I’m not even sure I’d recognise an unsafe environment unless people were shooting each other in the streets and there were bars on the windows.

But…not this guy.  Nope.  Not wanting a relationship with me – he instead put his foot down on some of the areas I was looking at to get an apartment.  He literally said “no” and “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you and your son living there.”  Really?  Why?  I lived in the inner city area of LA during the late 60′s early 70′s.  And yes, I’m blonde and blue-eyed.  Yet…I survived and never got into any type of altercation.  I lived on the “wrong” side of Anaheim in the 80′s…again…no trouble.  In alaska, I had friends from every walk of life – from hell’s angels to attorneys and oil executives.  Again…no problem.

So why now?  Why is someone concerned for my safety?  Because he cares and wants to keep me safe.  Yet, he won’t always be there…and wants to have whatever control he can without having me depend on him.  He even drove through the complex I ended up chosing and gave me his final approval, making sure I knew how to find the bus stop for my son, knew where the closest 2 grocery stores were and what the easiest way to get from my apartment to work.  Duh.  I’m 49 and have spent most of life as an independent person.  I think I can find my way the 5 miles to work.

And his women?  The ones he declares total lust for?  Yesterday I realized that is EXACTLY what he feels toward them.  Lust.  Not love, not even like – sheer, unadulterated lust.  He’s reached that experimental time in his life.  And he’s doing as much of it as he can.  Great.  good for him.  I say – have at it and enjoy.  Because, as intriguing as it all is to hear about – it’s not me.  I’m boring in that I’m monogomus.  I have no issues with having a wonderful, exciting, fantasy-filled time in the bedroom (or livingroom, kitchen, car, elevator, parkbench…), but it’s with the one person I trust and love.  Not him, his buddies, a few girlfriends and whatever else hangs from the trees now-a-days.  I feel as if I’m living a bad episode of something out of the 70′s…sex and the single girl. 

See?  there again, I’m the perfect woman – the keeper.  But not today.  And maybe not even tomorrow.  Because, even though he keeps trying to hook me up with people who don’t have LTR on the brain…I do.  And I’m on my own little search.  Time is a friend to those who are patient.  And as long as he gives me the little encouragement I enjoy, the sweet kisses and carresses, the beautiful words and sweet notes – and he couples those inbetween his latest conquest – I’ll keep looking while enjoying his attention.

then one day…

I’ll have the attention of another.  Someone who recognizes the keeper at the same time they are looking for the keeper.  And my patience will pay off.  If he’s lucky – that man will be him.  If not…either way, I’ll be the one who wins in the end.

My son asked me -

would I wait for you?

Knowing everything I do

without you asking

would I wait?

yes

i would

but not alone

not sitting around and

wondering who you are with

or doing

or contemplating

at any given moment

No

I will only wait

if i can still live

in the lifetime it will take

you

to realize that I’m the one

who will stand by you

behind you

supporting you

and loving you

like I do now

quietly

without judgement

of the person you are

or pretend to be

when the one you’ve hidden

deep away

is the one that will eventually rise

and release itself

from your protection

of separation

sleeping on it

The hardest part in any relationship is waiting for the other person to catch up, wisen up, clean up, sober up, just plain waiting.  I’ve waited a lot over the past 10 years. 

I waited for my ex to wisen, clean and sober up.  It didn’t happen until AFTER I left him.  Probably the catalyst for getting his life back together.  tough love is a bitch – someone always loses.  But…he’s clean, sober and well on his way to redemption – and I don’t love him like I once did, which means, I don’t have him in my life like before.  He’s my friend – a good friend, but we are on different roads – not even to the same place.  I wish him well, but I miss what was – before his drinking.  Yet I’m happy for him and have no desire to step back into a relationship with him other than friendship. 

Then there’s … this man.  This enigma.  This mystery of life.  Logic tells me it’s not really worth it.  He’ll never see me as anything other than a friend.  But my heart?  Says so much more.  My heart tells me to take a chance, to take the risk.  Put myself out there and suffer whatever consequences arrive.  Good or bad because somehow they will all be worth it.

I’ve tried to keep my emotions in check – and I think I do a great job when I’m around him.  I’ve had years of practice – never let your friend know you have a crush on them…you know the game.  I’ve played it since childhood and once…it actually panned out.  And that’s what I’m hoping for this time.  lightening to strike twice. 

Is he everything I’ve ever wanted?  no.  We are different as night and day sometimes.  But he’s loving and kind and intelligent and funny.  He’s a gentleman and he can take charge and relinquish that charge whenever necessary.  He’s what I need in my life.  He’s balance to my swings. 

But he’s not ready.  Not for me.  He says he’s looking for a relationship – but he won’t have one with me because of our kids.  If we had met years from now, things would have been different.  Before everyone starts screaming “red flag” at me – I’ve got it.  I know.  But that’s just it – I really do know and understand.  And I still want what I can’t have. 

Life does that to you at times – throws something at you, tantalizes you with it, then pulls it away.  Life can be cruel in that regard.  But if you can find a way to enjoy it – to love it and to find the beauty in it for the time you have it in your life, then that cruelty turns to joy and everything is somehow worth it.

That’s what I’m trying to do.  While I’m waiting.  Extract the beauty, the joy, the little moments that feed the dream.  I’ve sold myself in a way.  I’m allowing myself to be fulfilled only part time.  When the moon is right and the stars align for a short breathe of life.  Those moments are far and few – but when they come, they fill me up like I haven’t been filled in years.  At that moment everything is worth it.

Recent events told me that those moments were going to come even farther apart.  And I thought I’d come to terms with that.  As long as I don’t see him, I’m fine.  But last night – out of the blue, I saw him.  It was completely unexpected.  I wasn’t at my best – but I could still maintain the game.  I can be the perfect friend.  It’s what I do best.  Be there – when someone needs me.  And I was, and I heard about her.  and how she told him the same words he told me 2 months ago.  And I saw him struggle with the concept – yet hold out for the possibilities that come with those words.  I saw him grasp at straws that really weren’t there.

I saw me.

Are you aware…

sometimes…

I wonder why I have fallen for you like I have.  What did you say?  Or do? What inner part of me did you touch with whatever you used to reach into my soul and grab me?  You are not who I saw coming into my life.  but you’re here no matter how far you may be at times. And I’m lost -

What did I do?  What can I do to get you to see it’s me?  I’m the one?  Maybe not now, maybe not today – but I’m the one.  Everyone sees it – and I know you do too.  But to admit it?  To allow yourself the ability to let me in – no, you aren’t willing to do that.

At least not today.

Maybe tomorrow?  Maybe it won’t be too late? Maybe we’ll both still be here? 

Oh God.

I think I’m …

no.

I refuse to say it today.

Not until you are ready.

and you say it first.

I wonder if I can wait that long.

stress

days of frustration

only compound

the stress as it bends

and shapes

my fibers into a

abstract artist rendering

of sanity

while wondering where

time and patience

and peace

come in and take over

once the drama of daylight

fades away

into the darkness of

tomorrow

til tomorrow

Leaving

is so hard at times

with wanting to see you

yet knowing that timing

and circumstances

don’t always work in my favor

It’s hard to say goodbye

even for a few days

when I don’t know what

I’m leaving

or what I’m returning to

when all I want

is a clearcut understanding

of my path

with or without you

I just want to understand.

Travel diary – 7 Feb 09

What the hell was I thinking when I told John I’d sleep with him in a heartbeat – I know he already knew that, but to put it in writing – not so sure if I should have done that.  but at the time it seemed like the right thing.  Honest.  That’s what it was.  and in between all his dance steps and hem-haws – he said it was getting harder to keep things in perspective – to not move forward then look back with regret.  So I told him I’m backing off.  His move.

I’m done dancing.

He knows what I want – that’s where the honesty came in.  That’s when I told him what I wanted – so he wouldn’t be confused.  So there you have it.

Either we move forward or I just ended any chance I have.  Really.  is that what I wanted?

No.

I want John.

I want to quit dancing.

But if dancing meant having John – if only part time, then maybe I should keep dancing.

But see – that’s just it.  I don’t even have him part time.  His offer of FWB never really existed.  He couldn’t cross a line with me.  And that line meant the difference between Friends and FWB.

so…what did I have?

A tease.  Pulling me in until I wanted it more than life – ten push me back.  The teasing kept me going – but for what?  To where?  Without the commitment we weren’t going anywhere.

But lunch yesterday spoke volumes.  We were relaxed, comfortable, flirted and even had a few of those “gazing into each others eyes” moments.  Afterwards he held my thigh and hand – so I stepped up and emailed him to get together when I got home – just for naked fun (his words) and that’s when he back-peddled.

and I backed off and he said – no don’t – we’re fine – there are just things “I” can’t do.  Well me neither.  I have my wants and I want John.  And I can’t keep playing.

Except maybe I can.  because I don’t want anyone else.  Which means I’m screwed.  Unless a miracle happens and he gives it up and gives in.

But my chances are better if I played the lottery.  Because there’s something else blocking him and that’s the unknown factor – his ace – my Achilles ankle.  I may have just thrown away my chances because I lack patience.  Because I couldn’t leave it alone.  Because I wanted more.

Instead I’ll probably wind up alone.  No different tomorrow than where i was yesterday or am today.

And in the end – I might have lost the best friend I’ve made since moving to Texas.

forgive me John.

travel diary part 2

So now I’m on a plane listening to my ipod – and John just sits on my brain – a little remorse, a little sad, a little melancholy…

But…

there’s hope.  Maybe it’s not as over as I suppose it is.  Maybe there’s that slim glimmer of hope – that shred that keeps my heart alive and pumping.  The need for fulfillment and love.  The need and want that is John.

It has been a lifetime since anyone has captured my heart the way he has.  Just one other man besides Mike – and that was another Mike – a man who was so far out of reach that I never ached through my fantasies.  Dreamed yes?  longed for and desired? yes.  But to ache? No.

I do for john.  Everything seems to center around my heart and solar plexes with him.  Maybe because I know his touch, his lips, his caresses – maybe it’s because he showed me what it means to be alive and a woman.  Whatever it is – it’s all consuming.  I don’t know how I’m going to be on this cruise because he sneaks up and grabs hold of my braincells when I least expect it.  He has no idea what he does to me.  and I can probably never tell him because to do so is to admit need and vulnerability to and for a man that doesn’t believe in forever – or anything remotely resembling long lasting relationships.

And he doesn’t want me which confuses the hell out of me.  He enjoys me, my company, my touch, my response, my sexuality, my abilities, but me as a package?  no just a conglomeration of all my bits and pieces no matter how many he enjoys – he doesn’t long for them, desire them, dream of them.  No matter how hard it may be getting for him to give me what I WANT, (whatever he means by that – because he wants it too) and maintain control – he doesn’t see the culmination equate need, want, desire – relationship material.

I’m everything – I’m all of it – the total package and he can’t see what’s right in front of him.

travel diary part 3 – saturday night

So here we are – 1st night into our cruise and I’m going to bed at 8pm California time.  I’ve already dropped and destroyed my camera and had to buy a new one – $180 later. Ouch.  We’ll see how this goes.  Dinner was great. Beth and I are having a blast and I can’t get John out of my head.  I want to call him, to talk to him – to share my fun with him.  I didn’t expect that.  Now I don’t know what to do emotionally.

I wish he was here – Oh Hell – I’m lost.

Maybe I have fallen in love.

Shit.

Now what I had planned.

and I want to check my email, but I know he hasn’t  emailed me so what’s the point.  god I wish John care as much as I do.

I’ll probably never know.

And that’s a bitch.

travel diary part 4 – and then I just gave up

Sunday morning -

We called it an early night – all all I could think of was John and different scenarios of his ultimate choice – all of them lead toward me which…

I don’t know what does that say about me and my confidence and why am I so confident?  Because I’m not.

I see couples walking and holding hands, enjoying each other, yet…are they? Is John right?  Do we just soar then burn out and regret what we’ve done?  Is that the Epiphany?  He’s truly afraid he’s going to damage our friendship?  I could see it but only if one of us couldn’t let it go if we fizzled out.  but what if we don’t fizzle out?  What if we soar and continue to soar?  what if we – together – manage to find that formula that allows us to continue indefinitely?  what if we are meant to be?  and because of his fear of regrets we never become what we should?

what if it’s me who is delusional?  I’ve made it all up – he’s not who I need at this time in my life – he doesn’t make my pulse race and my heart sing?

who am I kidding – I wouldn’t be on a cruise with him capturing all my thoughts if he wasn’t what I want and need right now.

So now we go back to what I’ve said before leaving.  what i want and what I would do – and not really knowing his reaction – this time all I have is what he’s told me in the past:

I’m special – he wants friendship, because friends last longer and we’re going to be around each other for quite a while

We have chemistry

He enjoys my company

and…here’s the biggie…

I’m not who he’s attracted to.

This is what I have to remember.  He’s not attracted to me.

I need to let it go.  Because no matter what else we have between us, he isn’t attracted to me and because of this – he never will be.  No matter what happens, he will never love me.

and THERE is the regret.

And so it begins…

the end. 

I knew it was coming.  I was in over my head and probably made every mistake known to man.

At least this man.

Not counting his failures at committing to anything remotely resembling a relationship.

No.

It wasn’t meant to be.  Not today.  Maybe not tomorrow.

But, I think it will happen one day.  There is too much between us.  A connection. A Karma.  A soul thing.

We will find our paths to together – someday, in the future. But until then, I’m on my own and he’s searching every site he can access via his computer.

I wish him luck – but not in finding his “perfect” woman.  I wish him luck in finding himself.  Once he does, the perfect woman will find him.  She may already have.  But we may never know.

Good Luck John.

Good Luck Terri.

May you both find peace.

I’m back

It’s been a while – but really? Has anything changed?

No.

I’m still single, though I’m living in Austin now and not some sad little town on the outskirts.

I’m still broke – and wondering if I should really get that second job and live my life on no sleep, but knowing my bills are paid.

I’m still in love with someone who sees me only as a friend.

And I’m still not dating anyone.

Yep. Nothing has changed.

no wonder I haven’t written…

A birthday, a promised massage and an ex-husband

My day started with a text from my teenage son asking when our next free Sunday and/or weekend was. My reply…this sunday was free as is the second weekend in December…why?

He had called his father and asked to see him. His father said yes.

This is huge. My ex lives 100 miles away – he moved closer (from Washington to Texas) so he could see his son. The last time he saw him was in February. This is extremely painful for me – I don’t doubt it’s painful for my son. He needs to know his father isn’t the drunk he had been for the last 6 years of my marriage. He needs to know his father is a viable human being who has the potential of greatness to offer a boy quickly becoming a man.

He just needs to know his father.

And Sunday…my ex will appear on my doorstep for the first time in over a year – and spend the day with his son.

I’m scared shitless.

I’m afraid he won’t show. I’m afraid he’ll come back into my life. I’m afraid I’m going to need him like I did for nearly 25 years. I’m afraid it’s all going to come back and haunt me. I’m afraid he won’t be affected. I’m afraid he’ll break my son’s heart.

So…I’ve emailed my friend. The only man (other than my son) who means something to me right now. He’s a dad. He’s divorced. What does he think? Now I wait. wait to hear from him…because I need to hear from him.

He’s my rock. My security. My strength. And he doesn’t even know it.

But he did remember I have a birthday coming up. That surprised me. The man who reminds me periodically that we can’t date – we won’t date because “friendship lasts longer than relationships.” The man who can’t remember one day from the next, remembered my birthday.

Then he offered me a massage – he’s says because he’s cheap. Which he is. But I don’t think that’s why. He wants to give me a wonderful evening. Yet, I can’t imagine a wonderful evening with his hands all over my body and us not having sex. But that’s what it’ll be. No sex.

And I’m not sure I can handle that either.

Because I want nothing more than a relationship with this man. I don’t care if it works out in the long run – how would we know that going in? I was in a relationship for 25 and it ended…but there were times when it was wonderful.

so…why can’t we have wonderful times…like we are doing and have been doing – just add a little sex to the mix? Is that really such a bad thing between two grown adults??? I’d like it. I’m pretty sure he’d like it. He doesn’t want a LTR with anyone so what’s the big deal? I believe it’s the perfect definition of “friends with benefits.”

So…I’m going to lie naked on a table, be oiled down, and have his hands all over me – and I’m not supposed to feel anything?

Good God help me.

when?

I can’t imagine

not having you in my life

in my arms

in my psyche

you fill me with your being

and i wish you

allowed me to fill you

in the same way

with the same essense

you give to me

that you take

freely

while I wonder around

wanting

and waiting

and

wishing

you were mine.

I’m Fat – there. I’ve said it outloud.

So…I think I had an epiphany last night on why I don’t lose weight.

Yes, it’s emotional…I’ve always known that. But what I didn’t realize is that it’s a wonderful excuse on not dating.

I’ve complained that men seem to be attracted to me – until they realize I’m about 70 pounds overweight. Then nothing. They’re gone. I shudder to think of myself naked with a man. Even I find the idea disgusting – how can I expect them to want to love me?

I have fantasies of incredible passion – but I’m thinner in those dreams. I’m not beautiful – but it’s okay to be naked. Yet the reality is – I’m not okay with being naked. I’m shy and withdrawn – which allows any man to pull away.

I’ve always been the best friend, the confidente, the buddy, the girl-next-door and it’s still that way. I’ve been single for 3 years – and really, only one true date. And though he is the closest friend I have, we aren’t a couple. He makes excuses on why we aren’t dating – and all his excuses make sense. But deep down inside – I’m sure it’s because I’m fat.

And being fat feeds into my insecurity. Dating is terrifying and difficult. And if I’m fat – I can avoid it.

Yet I’m lonely.

And I want a man in my life.

One that doesn’t care what I look like – one that loves me for who I am. But I’m not willing to do the same. I want someone who takes care of themselves – not necessarily fit and trim, but not fat and sloppy. Double standards. Not fair.

So…I need to move forward and stop hiding behind my weight. I need to lose it – or be lonely forever.

The time is now.

Good God, I’m terrified.