Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
I attended an amazing 2-day workshop last week here in Seattle (Celebrating Men, Satisfying Women), and I have to tell y'all, it totally changed my life. Like forever.
I have so much more to say about all of this, but I just don't have the words yet. So for now, I just want to say this out loud:
I've laid down my sword.
Not to mention myriad assortment of knives, whips, chains, railroad spikes, sharp tongue, sarcasm, bad attitude, hurt, disappointment, anger, rage, entitlement, etc.
What I've learned is that I cannot possibly have my hands (or my heart) OPEN to all the amazing things that men are (and they are wonderful), let alone be open to the all the amazing things that love can be, if I am clutching these razor-sharp-death-inducing-blades-of-steel.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Being a single mom on Mother's Day kinda sucks.
Also, I really wish my mom was here. Because if she was, I'd so be sitting outside on the patio with her right now. And we'd totally be drinking ice-cold-frothy-licious root beer, or maybe her ultimate favorite, root beer floats. Mmmm! (Okay, I'd probably be drinking a vodka gimlet, but I do still love root beer floats, thanks mom!). Mom would probably have some ridiculous white hat and ginormous "Jackie O" shades on. We'd just chill and chit chat, enjoying the (ahem) rare Seattle sunshine, and we'd watch Dexy play with her bubble blowing contraption. And then we'd make something awesome to eat (because my mom was a great cook) and she'd argue with me about how I was making it "wrong" or something equally stubborn and opinionated. And then later, we'd watch the sunset from the front porch and she'd yap at the neighbors, asking them all sorts of personal questions (which they would of course be compelled to answer gleefully). And after Dexy was in bed, she and I would snuggle up and watch a "shoot 'em up" movie (her favorite) until she fell asleep too, and then I'd tuck a blanket around her nice and tight, kiss her on the forehead, and I'd go to bed a happy, contented and loved mama.
Yeah, that would pretty much rock.
Me & my brother with mom, circa 1970.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Ever wonder how you be able to say "Hi. How are ya?" with a genuine smile if you happen to run into them on the street, in a cafe, or at the grocery store? Will the dreadful sick-to-my-stomach-I'm-surely-going-to-retch-now feeling that you might see them out & about ever cease? Will there come a point when just hearing about them in passing from a mutual friend or family member stops making you feel like your heart has been violently ripped out of your chest (for the umpteenth time)?
I'm just curious. Because this has kinda sucked enough already.