Holy Hogmanay!

Wait. What? 

I said... Holy friggin' Hogmanay Batman! Can't you hear?

It's the last day of the year... How the hell did that happen? In a matter of hours, this fine (*cough*) 2010 shall soon fade away in a draught cider & food induced haze, sneaked ciggies in the car park (*cough*), fireworks at midnight, and the laughter of sugar-crazed children wafting up from the basement of our friends' West Seattle home. Thank the heavens too that the kids won't have to be cooped up inside with all the adults this year, as it's been sunny and clear for the past few days here in Seattle. For all I care, they can run about like mad little bunnies outside in the crisp 20-something degree air.  

Bundle up! Whee! And Happy New Year, you little maniacs!

By the way,  Hogmanay is a Scottish tradition. We used to play a fun game of the same name at my childhood friends New Years Eve bashes back in CA. But they're Irish/German so who knows where the heck they got it? We just liked the sound of it. It's funny. Especially when you're drunk. Just sayin'.

Some day, I'd love to travel back to Edinburgh and participate in the 4-day Hogmanay celebrations there. That would be awesome. I loved Edinburgh when I was there a 1,000 years ago (okay, it was actually 1989 and I was 22 years old, which is almost 1,000 years ago). I have to also say, there are very few things that get me half as riled up as a Scotsman in a kilt (*cough*), or a dozen Highland pipes blaring mournful tunes across verdant fields. It stokes a fire in me people. FIRE.

Ah, but I digress. It's New Year's Eve my friends. And that means it's time to bid this past year adieu and move forward into 2011. I'm ready. Are you? 

This has been an interesting year, to say the least. My job-search has been a series of ups and downs in the last 2 months since I began my search in earnest, but I'm actually hopeful that I'll land an awesome job sooner rather than later. I can't allow myself to believe otherwise. Why would I? That's not how I roll. Dexy is well and a typical crazy 4 and 1/2 year old. Her dad is settling in to a life in Seattle, though I suspect he's not settling in too well with the cold. HaHa. The house is holding together. My friends are awesome. I still love it here as much as ever. This city is pretty much my version of heaven on earth.

And so is with hope that I wish you a wonderful New Year ahead. May it be all you wish for, and more. May it be prosperous, fun, adventurous, filled with love and laughter, and most of all, may it hold a PEACEFUL outcome for all.

Meanwhile, I lovingly (and smirking-ly) provide the following for all those of you who don't actually know the lyrics yet want to sing it at the top of your lungs this very night without looking (too) foolish... Cheers! See y'all in 2011!

*******************************************************

Auld Lang Syne

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?

CHORUS:

For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

we'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

And surely you’ll buy your pint cup!
and surely I’ll buy mine!
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since days of auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand my trusty friend!
And give us a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

Twas the Night Before Christmas...

Not a creature was stirring, not even our little mouse... Happy Christmas Everyone!

All I want for Christmas is...

I just lurves me some pork. Ham in particular. My pretend husband, Mr. Tony Bourdain has it right, piggies are one of the most perfect foods. And what's not to like? Ham, bacon, sausage, prosciutto, roast pork loin, ham hocks (for homemade split pea soup), pork rinds, pulled pork, pork bellies, pâté de campagne, Rillettes, pork chops and applesauce...  

* d r o o l *

So hey, dear Santa! Can I have a lovely glazed ham for Christmas dinner please? I promise I'll be good. No really, I will. Oh, while you're at it, I'd also love some cranberry relish, mashed potatoes, sweet corn casserole, some yummy greens (braised spinach with bacon perhaps, or fresh green beans?), pecan pie... you get the idea. I'll leave the Trophy cupcakes and milk by the fire place. Thanks in advance. Love forever and ever, Me.

P.S. Not to be a bother, but a little help w/ the gift wrapping would be most excellent as well. Thanks a million!

Visions of Sugar Plums. Or Some Such Nonsense.

Today would have been my dad's 86th birthday. I'm really missing him, and my mom as well, especially since she was the Queen of making the holidays totally AWESOME (and I'm so not). Yeah, yeah. I'm feeling the usual sense of loss and grief that comes with missing my family this time of year. No surprises there right? But to be honest, it's never been a particularly joyful time for me, even when they were alive. I've always had these little-girl-like sugar plum visions for a Norman Rockwell-esque holiday, but most of the time it was more like The Simpsons. That said, I still manage to have many fond memories of a zillion wondrous and magical Christmas mornings (thanks Mom, I know that was ALL your doing).

Before I get too morose, let's just say it's that super special time of year when I get all wistful for my Christmas Past. Wait. How did I get on the subject of Christmas anyway? Oy. Anyhoo, I went poking around in my office closet earlier today and I found some old, and not so terrible, pictures where we actually look like a (kinda) happy family.

My dad and I may not always have seen eye to eye, but he was still my hero and I was cuckoo crazy about him. I hope somehow he knows that now. Happy birthday dad. I miss you.

Mom, Dad and Me (vacation in FL circa 1983/84)

Xmas in CA (Dad, Brother Bri, Mom and Me circa 1994)

Dad and Me - Sept 1972

Dad and Grandpa 1925

 

Happy Christmas

Best. Christmas. Song. Ever. 
(for this old punk anyway)


"So happy christmas 
I love you baby 
I can see a better time 
Where all our dreams come true..."

Holiday Greetings Post(al)

Whoa! It's holiday time again. And it's going to get away from me if I don't get my arse in gear. Our second in Seattle. The fifth for Dexy. And this year, her daddy is here with us, so I actually get to include his name on the cards & gifts for OUR family/friends. How is it possible that my greatest wish has finally come true? Lucky me, lucky Dexy!

For most of my adult life, I've faithfully sent out holiday cards each year by the dozens, if not hundreds. I enjoy receiving them too of course, but mostly I just really like the idea of letting the people I love most know that I'm thinking of them, even if it's only once a year. 

Since becoming a mom, I've done photo cards on-line at Shutterfly.com because it's a great way to let everyone see how much my daughter has grown (from pudgy baby, to toddler and now preschooler) ...and this year will be no exception because as usual, they have the best selection of photo cards, calendars, etc. to choose from. IMMHO.

Anyhoo, the biggest dilemma I always have, other than picking the perfect photo/s, is which card style to order. 5x7, 4x8, flat or folded, pix of Dexy only, or all of us together, matte or glossy, etc.? Making things even more complicated is finding a card that is cool (since I'm not a very traditional kinda gal) and also one that is holiday neutral (since I'm Jew-ish but most of the folks I send cards to aren't).

Here is the card I sent Dexy's first year:

I'm really excited by all the available choices Shutterfly has this year! I've got it narrowed it down to these three styles; Mod Ornaments, Love and Laughter or Fa LaLa Christmas. 

Which card do YOU like?

I need to make my decision toute de suite if I'm going to get them to the post in time. 

Help!

This post is sponsored by Shutterfly. Click here for more information on how to win 50 FREE holiday cards at Shutterfly. Please be sure to reference Clever Girls 1000 (see original post on Greeblemonkey). Thanks!

Attention [insert store of choice here] Shoppers!

This is something I've chosen to do for the last 3 years... to NOT get sucked into the mass shopping hysteria of Black Friday (or Cyber Monday for that matter).

Instead, I'm going to spend time w/ my daughter and her dad. Put a log on the fire. Eat some leftover turkey and pumpkin pie. Watch a movie, or three, on the telly. Snuggle. Laugh. Enjoy the view from my window. And if we're not still experiencing the brrrrrr-ly sub-zero temps here in Seattle by then, maybe we'll even take a walk around the neighborhood to see if anyone has gotten their Xmas lights up yet. I just <3 Xmas lights!

How about you? How will you "celebrate" the beginning of the holiday shopping season?

'Nuff Said.

Spooky Sprites!

Halloween 2010 -- This year we had a potluck bash at our house, starting early enough for everyone to enjoy their food and drink before heading out w/ the little ones for loot collection, errrr, I mean Trick or Treating. Since it was a school night too, and most of my friends have kids in grade school, it was important to be home and tucked in by 8pm. A good time was had by all. And gosh, the kids sure looked cute!

Undead Undead Undead

'Nuff Said. Happy Halloween y'all!

Chas Music Picks - For Friday Oct 29th

Bauhaus - Bela Lugosi's Dead

From Wiki: Together for only six weeks, Bauhaus entered the studio for the first time at Beck Studios in Wellingborough to record a demo. The band recorded five songs; one of the tracks from the session, "Bela Lugosi's Dead", running more than nine minutes, was released as the group's debut single in August 1979 on Small Wonder Records as Bauhaus (the 1919 abandoned).

Warts and Veins

Sharp-Shinned Hawk vs. Northern Flicker

Two Weeks

It's been almost two weeks since Dexy's daddy moved up to Seattle from Las Vegas. We're settling in nicely. At least I think we are. Mostly, I feel like Dexy and I have exhaled for the first time in months, if not years. And I'm definitely noticing a change in her with regard to having Daddy/Man Energy in the house, which IMO, is excellent. She needed this. And so did I.

Also cool... for the first time in over a year, Dexy is back in her own bed, in her own room, all night long, without anymore of the crying/screaming/hysteria. It took about a week of sleepless nights & sheer misery for ALL of us to get to this place, but her dad and I are committed and we're sticking to our guns, and we ain't giving in, no matter what.

We eat our meals together as a family, usually at the dinner table (whoa!). We take walks, attend kid birthday parties, shop, share preschool pick ups and drop offs, take turns reading the bedtime stories & getting her dressed/undressed/bathed. Stuff I've been doing solo for four + years (except when her dad was here for his monthly visit), and I'm just so stinkin' glad I don't have to do it alone anymore.

To have someone to share this stuff with, not to mention watch and experience all the milestones, growth, and the language/writing/thinking development, etc. that marks Dexy's latest journey from preschooler to Kindergartner (which will be next fall - GASP!), just rocks. 

Added bonus? If I need to run out the door to grab eggs at the Farmer's Market, or want to chit-chat with a neighbor, or go out for dinner/drinks with my gal pals, or take a walk, etc. I can! The freedom in that, in ALL of it, is tremendous.

I'm grateful. I'm blessed. And for the first time, in a long time, I'm happy.

Yay me!

National Ransom

I just <3 me some E.C. But it kind of sucks when your favorite musician in the whole wide world (not to mention your daughter's namesake) is such a bloody prolific songwriter. Because frankly, I can't keep up with all the music my husband, errrr I mean Rock G-d, creates. But I try. I really do. And this one looks AWESOME (you can hear a clip on Shawn Stewart's blog). Duh. Of course it does.

On the flip side, there's some good news. It doesn't drop until Nov 2nd, so I still have some time to save my duckets. Squeeeee!

National Ransom

Elvis Costello / Produced by T Bone Burnett

I Heart Autumn

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes

I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test.

Changes - David Bowie

It's been five (5!) years this month since Dexy's daddy and I, you know, like, made her. Five years of ups and downs as a couple (five years of ups and downs as a woman for that matter). But *GASP!* at the end of this month, we'll not only be living in the same city/state for the first time ever, but in the same house.

Wow.

There are myriad reasons why this is a big damn deal. Some of which are... how will this pan out for a 43+ year old broad like me, who has never actually lived with a man (other than college roommates) and how will this pan out for our daughter? He's been married before. I've never even been proposed to. How do I share this home I've spent the last 2 years creating alone, in a city I really love, but that he's not necessarily 100% sold on? How will our work schedules mesh? How will we navigate co-parenting? How will we move in rhythm with each other, on a day-to-day basis, when we've gotten used to seeing each other for only 2-3 days once a month?

One of the biggest questions though is... how will I now define myself? 

Despite my being with J for most of these past five years, we've never actually lived in the same city/state, so I've always identified myself as a single mom. There are myriad reasons for that too, but I'm not going to discuss them here.

In any case, the reality of it was, for me, that I was doing the parenting thing by myself. I didn't have any help from family members (my parents were dead before Dexy was two) and very little help from friends. I've been solely responsible for her daily care; housing, school tuition, clothes, food, diapers, toys, books, bathing, soothing, entertainment, travel, love, discipline, etc.

By saying that, in no way do I mean to diminish J's role as a dad. He's been absolutely great with her. And they cuckoo crazy LOVE each other, which is awesome. The bigger issue here is me. I've not always been the best at letting him just be himself. I've often been judgmental, resentful, petty, a nag, and even a downright bitch. Why? Because I felt entitled to it. Because I felt like I was doing all the hard work, while he got to be the awesome, cool, lovable, visiting dad.

But all that's about to change. I don't get to be the long suffering single mom anymore. I get to be one half of a parenting partnership. And one half of a committed relationship. In the same state. Same town. Same house.

I'm scared to death. But I'm excited too. Because, what if this is going to actually turn out great? What if the OLD definition was only an illusion, and this NEW and EVOLVING definition is the truth? What if this will be an amazing next chapter in ALL our lives? What if this is just the beginning of a life I've always wanted? What if I have the choice, starting right now, to just be happy?

That wouldn't be so bad, right?

Nope. It sure wouldn't.

Put a cork in it.

Favorite Things - The Getty

One of my favorite places on earth is The Getty Center in Los Angeles, CA.

I was going through some old pics this morning and came across some that I took on my last visit there. Sharing a few of them with you below; can you see why I love it so? Depending on the light, time of day/year, weather, etc. there is an endless array of interest for the eye (& camera lens) to take in. And I'm not talking about the art that's on exhibit.

It's the architecture and landscape/garden design that inspires me most.

Quiet Please!

Dudes, sometimes I just want need it to be QUIET!

For me, one of the hardest things about being a single parent is how noisy it can be.

Now I know what y'all will say, that ALL kids are noisy and ALL parents want peace/quiet, so what does being a single parent have to do with anything? But you're just going to have to trust me on this one, it's totally worse for those of us doing this parenting thing solo. Or at least it is for this single mama.

Whenever I really need some down time, or I'm trying to have a phone conversation, work in my office, plan dinner, or ponder the 568 other Mom Stuff related items in my head, that's precisely the moment when my kid needs to be right on top of me.

Frankly, it's already pretty noisy in my head even without all the Mom Stuff. And sometimes I just need it to stop. And when it doesn't stop, my temper flares, and then my temperature rises, and then I get so angry I want to scream. And more often than not, I do end up screaming.

Which isn't right and it isn't fair, because let's face it, a four year old just doesn't get the concept of Mommy-Really-Needs-a-Break-Right-Now-Or-Else-She's-Gonna-Lose-What's-Left-of-Her-Freakin'-Mind. 

I know she just wants my attention - and she wants it now. I get that. The Good Mommy in me really wants to give it to her too, but that mommy is trapped inside my very loud and chaotic brain and that mommy's voice of reason can't possibly be heard above all that bloody racket, so then the Mean Mommy wins and the screaming party begins.

The obvious response of course is to walk away from the noisy situation before it escalates to the point of screaming, counting to three, consequences, threats, "time outs", crying, etc. (which hello? just creates more noise!), but 90% of the time I can't walk away because I'm here by myself (i.e. there's no one to hand her off to so I can go calm the eff down).

I have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. No way to get away from the questions or the requests for food, bathroom assistance, books, TV, toys, tea parties, boo-boo fixes and kisses, etc. No way to get away, if even only for a moment, from this sweet, beautiful and most perfect little creature who is following me all over the house.

And I know that sounds awful and harsh. It probably makes me a monster. But if I don't find a quiet place, and soon, my head might actually explode & fly off into outer space, never to be seen again.

I swear to gawd officer, that crazy woman's head just POPPED right off her neck and exploded into a zillion teeny pieces! Look, there's what's left of her in that bloody gurgling pool of ooze on the sidewalk. See? Ewwwwwww!

And then where would my kid be?

Orphaned. Duh.

So, please pass me the duct tape. It's quiet time.

Mr. Good Enough is Actually Perfectly Awesome

I was over on Ms. Single Mama's blog the other day and saw a reference to this book:

Do NOT be fooled by this title!

And of course, the title totally made me cringe. But I bought it anyway. And now I'm more than 1/2 way through it, and much like the PAX workshops I've been attending since May, this book is changing my life. Not just incrementally. But like, monumentally.

Cool right?

So I'm sharing it with you my 41 readers.

P.S. You're welcome.

;-)

Target Ain't People

Blogging Blues

Why is blogging SO hard sometimes? I'm no Dooce or @Neilochka - nor would I want to be (what they & bloggers like them do is a full time job and frankly, I'm just not that clever y'all) - but I'd like to offer up something a tad more interesting or inspiring than just pictures of Dexy, or some sad sack whiny wah wah wah about how I miss my parents, or the occasional cryptic post about my single motherhood & dating travails, or my life altering experience/s at a PAX workshop.

Which brings me to the Skitch screen shot of my Twitter account page.

I know a LOT of people that don't "get" Twitter. But then I don't get their love for Facebook either, so I guess we're even. It's cool. To each their own right? For me though, Twitter is the perfect social media site to express myself on. I can go there whenever I want. Or not at all. And I totally don't feel like a bad slacker if I avoid it for a few hours, or GASP! a few days. 

That's not the case with my blog however. I feel all kinds of bad if I avoid posting here, and I don't know why because this kind of writing isn't really my forté any more anyway (P.S. I used to love writing once; have kept journals since I was 9, majored in History and minor in English Lit and Communications at UofA, edited ginormous NIH/CDC research grant applications for my PhD/MD/MPH bosses at the Az Cancer Center and College of Medicine, and of course I adore the very craft of books/poems/plays, etc.).

So what the hell happened? Why do the short bursts of thought, aka streams of consciousness, that one can engage in on Twitter (no matter how lame the content by the way) work better for my mommy-addled brain?

I have all kinds of great ideas for posts. Well, maybe not all kinds, but some. Problem is, I can never retain the ideas long enough to get them from my brain to here, or to even maintain the energy required to get excited about them either. Poof! They're gone in a flash. Or I'm off to something else more pressing, like wiping Dexy's butt. Woohoo.

I have no idea where I'm going with this. I know, I talk too much. Guess I just wanted to share it with you. I need some kind of an outlet for creative expression. Peace and quiet would be nice too. And some colder fall-like weather. And maybe a pony. Ooooh, look! Something shiny. Wait. What?

I digress. I find myself longing for said creative outlet. Craving it. Will go nutso without it. I get stressed and all cranky-pantsed when I haven't had so much as a smidge of creative or intellectual or book-ish in my day-to-day. Just ask anyone who knows me. Especially Dexy's daddy. He's practically an expert on my supreme cranky-pantsness.

I used to draw/paint. Now I do photography (quite poorly btw - compared to some of you amazing bloggers out there in BloggerLand). I used to play music. Now I fawn over musicians and cool radio stations like KEXP. I used to read 3 to 4 books at a time, consuming them within a few hours, or at most, a few days. Now I read e-books on my iPhone Kindle app - in the dark, while my kid is sleeping. I go to art museums, book signings and the occasional concert - when I can manage the $12 - $15 an hour babysitting fees (yes, you read that right you non-single parents you!). I check out other(better) bloggers from the comfort of my couch or home office. 

And of course, I tweet. Like a mad woman.

What can I say? It works for me.

So, I hope you'll keep coming here. All 40 (41)* of you. Or, you could cruise on over to Twitter and say howdy. You'll certainly have a better chance of catching me in real time. Goodness knows, I'm a lot more succinct there. I have to be. It's 140 characters (or less). Or else.

--------------------------

*Psssst. I have over 2,000 followers on Twitter & more than 34,000 tweets. See? I'm WAY more prolific there. Or I work harder on it there, or something.

Missing My Joanie Baloney

Today my mom would have been 81. She passed away in July 2007 after suffering from Alzheimer's for over a decade. And I know I've said it before a gazillion times, but there isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss her, or have an impulse to call her for some serious Mommy Advice (parenting is hard dudes, and my mom was SO smart about Mommy Stuff!). Mostly, I wish I could give her a big hug & just hold onto one of her teeny little hands...

We didn't always see eye to eye. Frankly, I was a HUGE pain in the ass, for a very long time (teen angst that bled well into my late twenties). By the time I woke up and got my attitude in check, she was already getting sick and there was SO much I missed in terms of a loving and informative relationship with her. What a shame, b/c of course I have a million questions I'd loved to have asked. As a young woman. As a new mother. And she would have actually answered my questions now. Really, I don't blame her for being secretive and/or cryptic about her life Before There Was a Me. When I was younger, I so often didn't deserve her trust. And now, now that I so desperately wish I had answers to those questions, there is no one left to answer them.

I love you and miss you Joanie Baloney. Say hey to Grandma Pink for me. I know you two are watching over me and Dexy. Thank you for that. Happy birthday mama.



Mom and I in Paris, 1989/90


Mom and Dexy, summer of 2006

Flip. Flop.

Amid Life's Crises: One Of Our Own

Amid Life's Crises: One Of Our Own: "Thursday's HNT was an emotional one for me. One of our own, Boo (formerly Boo(duh)) - a fellow parent, blogger and HNT-er - a dear..."

The above post (click on link for more info) seriously made me gasp, and then it broke my heart. Even if you can only give a dollar, or send an email expressing your condolences, or say a prayer... will you? I can't even imagine. I just can't. A mother should NEVER have to experience something like this. Not ever. My prayers and thoughts are with Boo and her family.

Summer Sunshine and Sprinklers

Yes, we DO get sunshine in Seattle. These were taken on a hot July afternoon... a few days after the requisite last day of crap "summer" weather (which for those of you not in the know, is usually any time after July 4th).

Pink on a Grey Day

Happy 4th of July!

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness... That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness." (The Declaration of Independence, adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4, 1776)

Lest we forget what today is really all about... Freedom from tyranny. Life. Liberty. Happiness. Equality. Fair representation. All the good & righteous stuff the Founding Fathers wanted for our fledgling nation.

Let's also try to remember that there are THOUSANDS of young men and women fighting for those very tenets overseas right now, men and women that can't be with their families, and whose families are really missing them something awful, especially on days like today. There are also many families who have paid the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom/s. Please don't forget them today, okay?

Here's wishing you and yours a happy Independence Day! I hope you're enjoying a warm summer afternoon BBQ with all the people you love. Dexy and I are going to go stuff ourselves silly on grilled meat, potato salad, frosty beverages, etc. at my friend Susan & Steve's house. No, it's not officially summer in Seattle yet. Apparently that doesn't actually happen (historically) until July 5th. But 80-degree days will be here by Tuesday, and meanwhile, I think I see a little, teeny tiny bit of the sun peeking out behind those clouds. 

Enjoy!

Oh. My. God.

The Marrying Kind

Remember this post I wrote about marriage back in August of 2008? It's okay if you don't, because (pun intended), I do. Realizing that about myself was a huge damn deal for me... but here we are almost 2 years later & I'm still trying to work out what the heck it all means.

One of the things I heard loud and clear at the PAX workshop I attended back in mid-May, is that the number one reason a man will ask a woman to marry him is that he thinks he is the guy who can make her most happy. Not one of the guys, but the guy. If he thinks for even one second that he cannot win at this task (make her happy), he will not expend one ounce of his energy to even ask her. Because remember, for guys, winning and scoring points is kind of the very make up of their DNA. 

Yeah, he may date her indefinitely. He may share a home with her. He may provide for her in small ways financially, emotionally, or physically. He may even have kids with her. But he'll never make her his wife if she's made it abundantly clear that he can't possibly make her happy.

Whoa. That's kind of huge, right?

So that got me to thinking about all the ways in which I convey my UN-happiness -- not just with the men in my life, but with everyone. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm never happy, or that I don't express sincere gratitude and joy for all the wonderful things in my life (and believe me people, I totally recognize that there's loads of stuff in my life that's awesome and wonderful and perfect), it's just that I so often have tempered my state of happiness with a backhanded comment or judgment that pretty much negated the very happiness I was trying to convey in the first place.

Again. Whoa.

Note: I really hate it when I peel away another layer from this crazy onion that is me. It's so G-d damned annoying to discover there is more shite I have to look at, work on, discard, and "gah!", keep DIGGING for.

I'm just thinking out loud here. You know, trying to make an observation about my experience... I do know how to have a long-term relationship (my longest being 8 years), so that's not my "problem". However, there clearly is a reason why I've never even lived with a man, let alone been married to one. Right? So it follows that there's gotta be a reason why I've never even been asked to do either of those things.

I don't want to beat myself up about this, nor do I want to have a judgment about the men I dated for years and years who never asked; I just want to notice that there is was a pattern. And now that I've noticed, I'd also like to make the subtle shift and learn to focus on putting the happy back into my happiness.

This has nothing to do with finding or keeping a man. I am no longer worried about my ability to do that. I don't know why I've spent the last 20+ years telling myself that I couldn't trust or be fully honest with men, or why I justified my Supreme Bitchiness, that they somehow deserved it because they were all the enemy, or worse, telling myself that there was something horrifically wrong with ME, and then all the ways in which I proceeded to hide my real self (the soft/mushy/girlie self) from every man that ever crossed my path by being a straight up monster.

WTF was that all about? When did I decide that it wasn't okay to just be a girl &/or to be vulnerable and open? Why not just celebrate all the awesome things that men are, instead of comparing them (or myself) to some ridiculous notion of the Ideal Woman who lives in my head? P.S. the Ideal Woman is a total evil & self-sabotaging bitch and she needs to get the heck out of my damn head.

Men are not hairy women. They're just men. Glorious, innocent, spectacular, perfect.

I honestly don't know anymore if I'll ever get married. The good news is that for today, I'm becoming kind of okay with that. But I'll also admit that someday, I'd at least like to find out what it's like to be the marrying kind.

And that my friends, is 100% on me.

One Stormy June Afternoon

Paralyzed

Why is it that the simplest of tasks; from paying bills before they come due, to returning an item to the store within a few days of making the decision that I don't really want it (or need another size, color, unbroken version, etc.), to returning a phone call or email within 24-48 hours of receiving it, to folding or putting away the seemingly endless piles of laundry, to making myself some lunch, or getting up from my computer to pee, etc. all seem so painfully difficult to handle? 

What am I really avoiding when I find myself paralyzed by the minutia of my daily life? And why?

If you have any ideas, please let me know. Because it's starting to get on my last nerve.

I Heart Spring

Gotta Love Seattle

Laying Down My Sword

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.

Just sayin'.

Stay tuned.