Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Well, I'll start.
I have officially graduated college. After starting 6 years ago at a small community college in a suburb of San Diego, I have finally earned my degree at a major university in Seattle. I have a habit of downplaying my accomplishments because I know there's always someone who has overcome more and gone farther. I tend to make my big milestones into small pebbles.
I've promised not to do that this time.
Returning to college as an adult is very difficult. I had to relearn how to study and re-prioritize my life. I also had to try to overcome my fear of failure (I never actually managed this). I was married when I started school, but went through a divorce, two major interstate moves, unemployment woes, and holding several jobs while attending classes. My grades dropped dramatically during the divorce and this fractured my confidence. I came close to dropping out of school despite my student loan debt load and time I had already put in. I collapsed. Completely.
I fell into an emotional and mental pit that was deep and dark and lonely. I had to call on friends to keep me alive........literally. I locked myself in my room on more than one occasion because I was making plans to have the cats taken care of because I didn't plan to stick around in this life. It was scary. It was real.
Now, I'm the most strong and confident woman I've ever been. I crawled out of that place in my life, applied myself, regained my confidence, fought with myself........I made it. :-) My GPA isn't what it should be but I'm learning to live with that. I finished with great grades in my major, though. I can take comfort in that. I have done something no one else in my family has done and what I didn't think I could do for a while. I have learned a lot about myself and what I'm passionate about. My major was difficult and my life was difficult.............and it was all for the best.
It's been over six years. Six years that I wouldn't trade for anything...........okay, parts of it I would trade. *wink*
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Olbermann: Gay marriage is a question of love
Finally tonight as promised, a Special Comment on the passage, last week, of Proposition Eight in California, which rescinded the right of same-sex couples to marry, and tilted the balance on this issue, from coast to coast.
Some parameters, as preface. This isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics, and this isn't really just about Prop-8. And I don't have a personal investment in this: I'm not gay, I had to strain to think of one member of even my very extended family who is, I have no personal stories of close friends or colleagues fighting the prejudice that still pervades their lives.
And yet to me this vote is horrible. Horrible. Because this isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics. This is about the human heart, and if that sounds corny, so be it.
If you voted for this Proposition or support those who did or the sentiment they expressed, I have some questions, because, truly, I do not understand. Why does this matter to you? What is it to you? In a time of impermanence and fly-by-night relationships, these people over here want the same chance at permanence and happiness that is your option. They don't want to deny you yours. They don't want to take anything away from you. They want what you want—a chance to be a little less alone in the world.
Only now you are saying to them—no. You can't have it on these terms. Maybe something similar. If they behave. If they don't cause too much trouble. You'll even give them all the same legal rights—even as you're taking away the legal right, which they already had. A world around them, still anchored in love and marriage, and you are saying, no, you can't marry. What if somebody passed a law that said you couldn't marry?
I keep hearing this term "re-defining" marriage. If this country hadn't re-defined marriage, black people still couldn't marry white people. Sixteen states had laws on the books which made that illegal in 1967. 1967.
The parents of the President-Elect of the United States couldn't have married in nearly one third of the states of the country their son grew up to lead. But it's worse than that. If this country had not "re-defined" marriage, some black people still couldn't marry black people. It is one of the most overlooked and cruelest parts of our sad story of slavery. Marriages were not legally recognized, if the people were slaves. Since slaves were property, they could not legally be husband and wife, or mother and child. Their marriage vows were different: not "Until Death, Do You Part," but "Until Death or Distance, Do You Part." Marriages among slaves were not legally recognized.
You know, just like marriages today in California are not legally recognized, if the people are gay.
And uncountable in our history are the number of men and women, forced by society into marrying the opposite sex, in sham marriages, or marriages of convenience, or just marriages of not knowing, centuries of men and women who have lived their lives in shame and unhappiness, and who have, through a lie to themselves or others, broken countless other lives, of spouses and children, all because we said a man couldn't marry another man, or a woman couldn't marry another woman. The sanctity of marriage.
How many marriages like that have there been and how on earth do they increase the "sanctity" of marriage rather than render the term, meaningless?
What is this, to you? Nobody is asking you to embrace their expression of love. But don't you, as human beings, have to embrace... that love? The world is barren enough.
It is stacked against love, and against hope, and against those very few and precious emotions that enable us to go forward. Your marriage only stands a 50-50 chance of lasting, no matter how much you feel and how hard you work.
And here are people overjoyed at the prospect of just that chance, and that work, just for the hope of having that feeling. With so much hate in the world, with so much meaningless division, and people pitted against people for no good reason, this is what your religion tells you to do? With your experience of life and this world and all its sadnesses, this is what your conscience tells you to do?
With your knowledge that life, with endless vigor, seems to tilt the playing field on which we all live, in favor of unhappiness and hate... this is what your heart tells you to do? You want to sanctify marriage? You want to honor your God and the universal love you believe he represents? Then Spread happiness—this tiny, symbolic, semantical grain of happiness—share it with all those who seek it. Quote me anything from your religious leader or book of choice telling you to stand against this. And then tell me how you can believe both that statement and another statement, another one which reads only "do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
You are asked now, by your country, and perhaps by your creator, to stand on one side or another. You are asked now to stand, not on a question of politics, not on a question of religion, not on a question of gay or straight. You are asked now to stand, on a question of love. All you need do is stand, and let the tiny ember of love meet its own fate.
You don't have to help it, you don't have it applaud it, you don't have to fight for it. Just don't put it out. Just don't extinguish it. Because while it may at first look like that love is between two people you don't know and you don't understand and maybe you don't even want to know. It is, in fact, the ember of your love, for your fellow person just because this is the only world we have. And the other guy counts, too.
This is the second time in ten days I find myself concluding by turning to, of all things, the closing plea for mercy by Clarence Darrow in a murder trial.
But what he said, fits what is really at the heart of this:"I was reading last night of the aspiration of the old Persian poet, Omar-Khayyam," he told the judge. It appealed to me as the highest that I can vision. I wish it was in my heart, and I wish it was in the hearts of all: So I be written in the Book of Love; I do not care about that Book above. Erase my name, or write it as you will, So I be written in the Book of Love."
Thursday, November 6, 2008
I'm an addict.
I'm addicted to the high I get from ingesting news coverage from around the world.
News about our elections and President Elect Obama.
It has been so long since the world has said to us "Welcome America. Have a seat."
It has been so long since I could look at one of the leaders of this country and smile.
It has been so long since good news has graced our media.
It has been so long since progress was made (granted we still have a long way to go.......Prop 8 passed and needs to be overturned for starters)
It has been so long since America has had a leader of any kind who stirred passion and action out of our collective apathy.
It has been so long since the people of this country have risen up and joined forces to effect change.
It has been so long since the American people dared to hope for something better.
This wave of cheers and smiles and pride has been a drug to me. One that I don't want to give up. I am bathing in the fix I get and wake up in the morning jonesing for more.............I'm printing speeches, saving video, hunting for pictures, emailing articles.........desperately trying to preserve this moment so I have record of the day when it all turned around. I want to have solid, tangible displays to show in 50 years when a random schoolchild asks me "Where were you when.........."
Young man, I was beaming and crying tears of joy. Let me show you why................
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
I'm more than willing to go to the brink again and again, as long as it comes in the end. That is all I care about.
Come change, come.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
I'm actually bursting with pride right now.
It's been a while since I felt this way about my country of birth. The actions of the past 8 years have left me very disillusioned with the U.S and I couldn't remember a time when I had some national pride.
Well, tonight the memories are starting to come back. As I watch history unfold I can't help but smile. Not just because the candidate I voted for and supported is on his way to the White House as the first African American president.............but because there is a rare unity in this country at this very moment. Black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, young, old, men, women.....all actually coming together for a common cause. Now, there are those who are in the other camp. You can see them in the McCain shots.......white, cowboy hats, angry, lip full of chew.....maybe I exaggerate, but the Reps are overwhelmingly white. :-) I'm envious of those at the Obama celebration in Chicago. Just, wow!
We are sitting on the lip of history. We are kissing it. We are loving and caressing it. We are enjoying it. We are America! Breathe it in. Let it spread throughout you. Let yourself smile. Let that heart flutter. Give hope reign. Believe again.
Be.................love, hope, peace, unity
Saturday, November 1, 2008
One thing I've never liked is how stressed out and maxed out people make themselves over gift-giving. It's gone WAY beyond "thoughtful" to "keeping up with the Joneses". Who can give the most and most expensive. Time with family and friends has taken a back burner to shopping, arguing for higher credit limits, waiting in line for the newest gadget from China, and knocking people over to get the last talking stuffed animal on the shelf.
My ex-husband was a pro at all of this. My married Christmases were obscene. The money spent on all the useless crap could have fed a country. Most of it ends up stored away, broken, neglected, or given away. It made me extremely uncomfortable, but he'd throw a fit when I mentioned it and accused me of trying to take the fun out of his holidays. Whatev.
Since my divorce I've been on a crusade for "stuff-free" holidays. No more stuff. Let's take back the warm fuzzies!!!!!! I've been able to spend more time making jams, baking yummies, being crafty, going out for drinks and appetizers with friends........no mall time. No waiting in lines. No credit card debt build up.
Some may say "that just means you're lazy and don't care enough to shop for the perfect gift". Wrong. I can personalize my gifts. I can spend time with people. I can make them smile or go "yummmmm". Conversely I don't want stuff from others. I just want their love. It's harder than hell to get this through my parents' heads. LOL I guess if I lived closer to them and could do dinners and game nights, they would be easier to sway. I really, really do miss the family.
Anyway, I can't wait for classes to be over with so I can start the merriment. Spiced apple cider in the slow cooker. Cookies, fudge, and candies just waiting to adorn baskets. Jams setting. "Christmas Vacation" in the DVD player. Bing Crosby crooning from the radio.
Man, I love this time of year. :-)
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Now it's time to have fun with the food budget! Most people dread cutting back in this regard, but I think it can be made exciting. This is an opportunity to get creative. Find ways to make those budget meat cuts into gourmet..........or at least into soothing comfort food. I'm also trying to get rid of the wheat in my diet and that adds an extra layer of difficulty. But, hey, anything to take time away from homework. :-)
Today in the crock pot I put:
1/2 lb. cubed steak, cut into bite sized portions
1 onion, sliced
1/2 package sliced mushrooms
1 can cream of celery soup (which I had cream of mushroom, but oh well)
1 can diced stewed tomatoes
1 package brown gravy mix
frozen green beans
salt and pepper
It's gonna cook all day and then I'll put it over some brown rice.
Hopefully it's good. *wink*
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The first thing I should really do is acknowledge something. I have to do this because, as you know, my daughter has struggled with addictions and I have been adamant with her that she do everything in her power (and mine) to kick her addictions and say no to her demons. After this week of work/client hell, I've had to take a step back and do some self examinations of my own regarding my own ugly little monster. I am going to own it, right here and now, with every cyber person reading this as my witness.
I AM ADDICTED TO SUGAR.
Every kind, every place, every where. We've been using it all week at work as a coping tool. Someone, at some point, decided that it would be a brilliant idea to bring industrial sized bins of Laffy Taffy to the front desk and the sugar inebriation has been continuous ever since. I decided on my own, as I began to notice that my pants were beginning to feel a bit snugger, that I would do a little research about the effects that all of this Laffy Taffy was having on my body. It turns out, (well duh) that the amounts of sugar that my body was adapting to consuming was having effects comparable to heroin, albeit in a smaller way. Yes, it is true, I have been drugging myself to cope with the demands of my job, and my drug of choice is SUGAR.
I decided that if I had the expectation of my daughter to kick her habits, then I could reasonably expect myself to get a handle on this. So, Thursday at work, I did my very best to stay away from everything that had anything to do with the evil white stuff. I watched as my coworkers collectively reduced that bin of loveliness to about half of it's original contents. (Seriously, in a tough week, the three of us can go through 2 of those 2 pound tubs. What is that, 15 or so Laffy Taffy's in a day per person? I do have to point out though that the jokes on those little death bombs are half of the fun.) Anyway, by the end of the day I had a monstrous headache and the shakes and by time I got home I was just jonesing for a fix. I ran to the store and grabbed the biggest piece of animal protein I could find and consumed it in hopes that it would satisfy the demands of my addicted cells. Nada. I craved a glass of white wine ( yep - alcohol is mostly sugar). Friday, I once again resisted until halfway through the day. I put a rubber band around my wrist and snapped myself every time I thought about my demon of choice.
Towards the end of the day, headache throbbing, I confided my in my co-worker and shared my shameful secret. She (a heavy smoker) laughed and shared her philosophy on kicking addictions with me, in summary it being that she doesn't believe in quitting anything cold turkey but feels that in my extreme case that a gradual decline would be more appropriate.
Of course, I caved and sighed with relief, anticipating the end of my headache. Quick Girl, pass the Laffy Taffy....
Saturday, October 4, 2008
I would like experience!
I've been kicking around the idea of a solo vacation. Small. Short. Inexpensive. I've never been to the East Coast and find the idea of a visit to Maine or Vermont or DC or Philly appealing. I can do what I want and see what I want and eat what I want. Be on my own schedule. I haven't started checking prices and weather conditions for June yet. This is an idea still in the early stages. I know people in NYC and CT so they may be figured into my plans.
I'm really digging this concept. It's been a while since I've traveled more than a couple of hours outside of Seattle and I'm due for some fun. I also need to restore some of the confidence and fearlessness I had before my marriage. I'm NOT gonna become an agoraphobic like my mother. *wink*
Saturday, September 27, 2008
However, I enjoy being the object of attention once in a while. I don't know how I know this because it just doesn't happen. Take today for example...........I had to run errands and I was feeling unusually good about myself. When I left my apartment I had a spring in my step and a gleam in my eye. Today of all days I was gonna catch someone's attention, dammit! With confidence I went to the mall, the bank, and the grocery store.
Not ONE head turned! No "hi" from anyone. Not even a smile.
I haven't been on a date in ages because I'm just never asked. No one asks for my number (unless you count the creepy druggie at the bus stop). No one says they would like to get to know me.
It's worse when I go out with friends. My friends are all gorgeous. I'm the token ugly, fat friend that tags along to make them feel even better. They dance and flirt and get drinks bought for them. I sit back and try not to look bitter and extremely unhappy.
I'm so done. Why even try?
So, I'm eating a big plate of spaghetti. Fuck it! Not like I have to try and look decent for anyone.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
One of my personal heroes for many years has been Queen Rania of Jordan. This woman is intelligent, passionate, poised, focused...............and beautiful, but that doesn't make her my hero. :-)
I went of Slate.com just now and saw that she is keeping an online diary for them (if only for a short time). In it she talks about her work to provide educational opportunities for girls who have fallen through society's cracks. This is something she has been focused on since she was elevated to queen so many years ago. On top of this she's a wife, mother, religious role-model, speaker, ambassador.....the ultimate in female multi-tasking.
Anyway, if you need an introduction to her.............
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Taking a moment to vent. Let me clarify though, I am not unhappy, not at all. Life for me is pretty fantastic, with blips of not-so-fantastic sometimes. Mostly fantastic though.
OK, so to preface this, I will set up the scenario. We have Mr. A (some would say that the a stands for Ass, some would say Awesome. you can decide for yourself) So Mr. A and I have something of a history, let's say that for the most part he is a friend of mine, but during the times that I do not regard him as a friend, the former name usually applies. Mr. A has a history of carrying on in relationships with females that he (in his words) is 'not that into'. This past summer he did just that, got involved with Ms. U (unknown, meaning I know next to nothing about her). Ms U. happens to have 3 small children under the age of 8. So Mr. A and Ms. U have a lovely summer together, integrating their children, creating a family unit, all-the-while Mr. A proclaiming his usual... 'I'm just not that into her'. Right? Right.
So last week, Mr. A phones me and laments the end of his relationship with Ms. U. Sad, really. no, I really do mean that. What a huge waste of time and effort spent creating relationships with delicate little souls (kids) who love unconditionally and have a hard time understanding when grownups decide to part ways. He went on and on on the ins and outs of why he knew from the beginning that they were not a match and how he ended it all for that very reason, blah blah blah. He even went so far as to say that he was so distraught at how easy is had seemed for her to be dumped by him that he just couldn't bring himself to spend time with his son, and could I just handle that for another week or so? (Oh, I forgot to mention that we share a son).
So at this point, I was biting my tongue as what I really wanted to say is, OK Mr. A (Ass), you are so self-centered and egotistical that not only did you carry on for months in a relationship with a woman that you are 'not that into' and involve our son and her little darlings, but you just can't seem to swallow the fact that she is not completely distraught over the fact that she may have lost the only chance in her life to have her mind messed with by you and possibly suffer more emotional damage in the long run if she tries to hang on to a man that is 'just not that into her'? My God man, get over yourself.
OK, so to the point of my story. This weekend, according to Mr. A, was supposed to have been the time that he needed to nurse his damaged ego and get back into single man fighting shape so he could, magically by Monday, be back into top parenting mode. I need to call him about some visitation switches I would like to make, which in the past have been very easy to negotiate - although I have to admit it is usually me that is the flexible one. So today I make the call, Hey Mr. A, how are you, how was your weekend, hope you are well, etc. Hey you don't mind if we switch our weekends do you? It seems that many of the things that I'd like our son to participate in are during the weekends he is with Mr. A.
Well. Get this.
Mr. Ass, er... I mean A, says why? He then goes on to say that that this just doesn't work for him and that he needs to know my reasoning. What the... I mean, hmmm. Anyway, long frustrating conversation later, Mr. A tells me that he has RECONSIDERED his position with Ms. U and that her kids are on the same visitation schedule with our son, and that he is not currently willing to make any changes with me.
Hold on to my chair while I express myself on this one. Essentially, he is telling me (but obviously not in the same words) that his EGO is so large and inflated that he cannot handle the rejection he feels from a woman that he has admitted repeatedly he does not love. HE DUMPED HER, and the sheer fact that she is not crushed by losing the shining glow of his presence in her life is just too much for him to handle. So - in a nutshell, he is patching things up with her so he can double his efforts, make her fall in love with someone that he is not, further involve all of the little munchkins, and get a 'do-over' when he is ready to dump her again with the hope that she will be adequately crushed and emotionally distraught enough to satisfy his overblown need for hero-worship.
That's it. In an overblown, grossly-enlarged, sick sick nutshell. Classic Mr. A.
*sigh* All of that effort. Seriously, half of it channeled it some introspective self-examination could make a huge difference. Or not. All I know is that I love my son more that I love myself, and that makes all of the difference to me when I have to ask myself important relationship questions.
Take a lesson Mr. A.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
There's a guy at work who has several bibles on his desk and he takes one of them to the lunchroom with him everyday. He's a nice enough guy, but he makes me uncomfortable for some reason............even before I saw all the bibles.
Now, while eating lunch and reading my own work of fiction, he keeps starting conversations with me and those conversations lead to apocalyptic predictions.
Example after example of news stories of family killing family. Weather. Natural disasters.
"The world has never been like this. These events are now worldwide".
Have you EVER cracked a history book?
Ever read a Greek tragedy? Kids and parents sleep with and kill each other all the time. And you can bet the Greeks didn't have a corner on the market.
Ever read stories and histories from other cultures around the world? Lots and lots of evidence of insane weather. Today's hurricanes are not isolated in the historical record.
Ever heard of Vesuvius or Krakatoa? Those puppies caused natural mayhem long before you came along and started predicting doom and gloom.
We hear about stuff right after it happens. The world seems insane because we are in such an information driven world. Think, buddy!!!! Good gawd!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
So, for some elusive reason I have this wierd 60 day thing. It isn't really a 'thing', but more like something that I just sort of realized one day and went, oh. OH. At risk of making Mandy even more sick to her stomach than she already is, I'll go into a bit of detail. About 2 years ago I had a stupid breakup with a stupid man (who was a closet gay by the way, hehehe...). Yes, you heard me right, and it was . Anyway, the whole thing just didn't feel right to me and I decided at some point to just break it off cleanly and walk away. For some reason I turned introspective about my past and present relationship patterns and came to the realization that, for me, a romantic relationship with anyone but Mr. Right In Every Way Right Down to the Shape of His Toenails has a life span of about 60 days.
I have become so aware of this phenomenon that at this point in my life when the 60 day mark approaches I can just about guarantee that I will have had at least one freak out before I meet (or more likely run from) the deadline.
So, to my point. Tonight, for my current probationer, marks 59 & 1/2 days. Last night was my first real scare in this whole probationary process. Dom pulled some of her usual stuff, you know, meltdown... tantrum... I hate everything about everything kind of nonsense, which with Dom is usually amplified at about 50+ the normal power of your average teenager girl drama. Really and truly, I do not exadurate this. This is a testing moment for me, I think to myself... do I call Mr. Potentially Right In Every Way Right Down to the Shape of His Toenails? It is an ideal time to lean on him and see what kind of earth shattering super powers he really possesses. Or do I give in to the little voice that says, Bridget, you know there is a strong possibility that if he has any wet mop in him at all he will cave and fold and take this opportunity to bow out of this potential train wreck with the Domster and convey his condolences to the survivors? *whew*
Well, I called. Or he called. Or we called. I do not recall. We did a lot of calling.
I was frightened, but resolute. If he caves, he caves, I thought to myself. If he gets squishy, it's inevitable that he may not be able to handlle Dom's brand of intensity. A few dozen pints of pistachio ice cream will have me well on the mend. Well, he wasn't a wet mop at all, not even a little damp. No sign of wishy-washyness anywhere. Hmmm. Mmmm. Well, honestly, I knew in my heart that he wouldn't bend.
Good job Mr. PRIEWDTTSOHT. 60+ days, here I come.............
Monday, September 15, 2008
Tonight is one of those nights when my thoughts are varied and voluminous. I'm relaxed with a beautiful glass of wine, Soft Chenin Blanc, perfectly mellow and slightly sweet; a lovely mixed salad with nuts and beries, and Josh Groban softly crooning Italian love in my ear.
So many things are changing and evolving in my life right now. My job is morphing at a rapid rate and it is almost all I can do to catch my breath in the day to day flurry as I race to keep up a steady pace with the evolution. My children are both entering phases in their lives that are filled with change and new experiences. Little Tag is not so little anymore. I remember a time when he was so filled with with cute funny little musings of wonderment that I was texting or calling Mandy on a daily basis with the newest latest tidbit that he had come up with. He is now on the edge of worrying about what makes a boy 'cool' and what doesn't, and tries daily to reconcile how kisses and loves to his mom fit in to that equation. Dominique is a gorgeous, intelligent, insightful young woman of 16. I am shocked and amazed at the depth of her spirit every day of my life. She is also stubborn, insecure, and thoughtless at times. A typical teen with a twist, that is my Dom. Fun as hell, but damn, oftentimes a force to be reconned with - for good or bad.
As for me, I am in a very comfortable place with myself. I find that the older I get and the more I get to know myself, the less I care about other's opinions and thoughts on why Bridget is or isn't what they think she should be. I found myself in a conversation with Trevor (ex husband) earlier this summer, and, of course, we somehow ended up discussing our individual situations and where we each felt that we were induvidually compared to where we were maybe a year or even two years ago. (He is still, to this day, very secretive about his personal life and when discussing his plans with me he will say Tag and I are doing such and such, instead of Tag and Misty and I.... As if he is trying to shield me from ultimate rejection or pain or some such nonsense.) He was being his usual secretive self and I just told him... Trev. Please. It is not necessary, I am in a very emotionally, physically and psychologically healthy place - don't feel like you have to shield me or hide your life from me, honestly. Stop saying, 'OK' when I ask you how you are doing. If you are good, say good. If you are great, say great. It has, of course, not changed him any, but both Mandy and I know how inportant it is for me to just get my 2 cents in.
My relationship with Mandy, this thing has grown and mutured into this lovely, multi-fauceted gem that shines infinetely, even when dropped in the mud and covered with all sorts of creepy unmentionables. Everyone with real, no I mean REAL relationships knows (or maybe not) exactly what I am talking about. There is not one thing in my life that I feel like I couldn't give her complete exposure to and at no time do I ever feel like I have one smidgen of fear of anything, anything, anything... I have complete trust that this girl will give it to me straight as if I were looking into the mirror, saying - Bridget, tell it like it is. I can always count on her to shoot me up with the cleanest, purest, most honestly comical intelligence that I could ever wish for myself. Honestly, if by some cruel twist of fate I lose out on the new relationship that I am currently immershed in, I may have to switch teams and just give myself over to that bettter brighter version of myself. ;)
Lastly for tonight, but certainly not least, my new and exciting relationship. There are so many things that I would like to say that would just be mushy gushy and potentially ruinous to this beautifully well rounded confection thus far. I will spare you all of that (for tonight anyhow) and just give you a taste of the sauce that will flavor this dish tonight. This strong confident woman, prideful as she is, has to admit that there is potential that she has met her match. I am the first to snicker at all of the cliche'd notions and canned romantic crap that every little girl's dreams are made of. I have lived enough of life and dated enough pretty men to know that, for most of us, those types of romantic fluffy-fluff ideas are mostly that - fluffy-fluff. I am a real woman, with real hopes and desires for myself, and that last thing that I have wanted to do for a very long time is to share those desires with a man who could just potantially throw a wrench into it all and screw it all up. (I spared you an F bomb, though I really really wanted to use it) I am typically that girl who runs at the first red flag or finds a red flag where there is only truly maybe a yellow one or quite possibly light orange. Anyway. Three reasons why this man has potential for permanency with me. And really, take this at face value, because it truly is a miracle to me (although completely easy) that I am in a position to admit these things to myself.
#1. Week after week I am not bored, restless, or looking for an out.
#2. I have been unable to find anything that is scary to me, or even potentially scary about this man. (And believe me, I am an absolute expert at finding any little thing that would justify lacing up my Nike's.)
#3. I can spew romantic gobbledy-gook, day after day, night after night, and mean it every time. It never gets old, it just gets better.
Honorable mention (you knew I couldn't just walk away at 3, right?)
#4. He loves to play. No, really, play - like as in wrestle, tickle, bite, kiss, torture, and the like.
#5. He has blue eyes that a girl could get lost in. I mean, floating in a sea of genuine sincerity, sparkly kind lovey dovey, oh gosh anyway.
#6. He is a total manly-man. Athletic, strong, broad shouldered raw, sexy, soft, affectionate, real, kind. OK, you get the picture.
Anyway, spaghetti salad. My thoughts tonight; they are long and voluminous and filled with little tidbits of this and that, all jumbled together into just the mix that you crave sometimes in a cold lovely satisfying way but also warm and spicy if you prefer to nuke them.
Sheesh, give this girl a computer and an open forum and God help us all. = P
Sunday, September 14, 2008
But, there are these rare times when I feel really, really, really lonely. Bridget is in the throes of a new and fantastic relationship. I'm so thrilled for her because the guy sounds so perfect for her. She's giddy, happy, secure...............I've never felt these things for anyone. Never had true love. Never felt that someone just completed me and made life so much richer with their presence.
That's okay...............most of the time..............
But not today. It seems that everything around me is screaming "your life is crap because you don't have this elusive presence". Shows, books, movies, people on the street. It's everywhere and I'm really being affected by it. It would be wonderful to have someone to cuddle up to me and tell me how wonderful they think I am.........how they want me around forever.............how they are so lucky to find me..............and I feel all these things for them.
Or, maybe it's just PMS.
That's it........hormones! I'll snap out of it soon. :-)
Saturday, September 13, 2008
I set this up as an experiment with Bridget and me. We talked about sharing a journal to preserve out lives for posterity, but never got it off the ground.
Sit back, grab a drink, and enjoy the ride. Most of the time it's smooth and a little boring, but at times it can get rather bumpy. :-)