Tears and Spew

I have lost my very best friend – She’s been replaced by tears and SPEW.

SPEW …not to be confused with The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (S.P.E.W.).

No, it’s SPEW…The Saddest Person in the Entire World.

This poor soul is in my life, and I’m required to be friends with her. I don’t even know how to help her. She used to be my best friend.

She’s the kind of person who doesn’t necessarily have a bucket list, because she just does everything…at least, she used to.

I’ve seen her every day for the last several months…and she’s been sad every day of that period, possibly longer than that, if I really think about it, but I’m not sure I noticed it quite the way I notice her now. She’s exceptionally good at hiding pain.

I’ve seen her crying as she walks down the street. I hear sobs occasionally.

She often has tears running down her face, and sometimes I don’t think she notices. They’ve just become part of her daily life.

It’s really hard being friends with her now. She doesn’t complain, doesn’t whine. I can’t even say that she feels sorry for herself. Other than sadness, I don’t think she feels anything?

How do I know she is truly SPEW (The Saddest Person in the Entire World)?

  • one word makes her cry
  • a breeze on her face makes her cry
  • lifting weights makes her cry
  • being around people makes her cry
  • being alone makes her feel nothing or less
  • dreams make her cry
  • nightmares haunt her dreams – and make her cry

SPEW used to be the kind of person that everyone went to for advice on every subject. She was always rational and objective, seeing both sides of the problem and drawing up 2 sensible options, helping her friends see logical and simple solutions.

She thought outside the box with creativity and imagination. She didn’t necessarily care what people thought, and she preferred to be a little outrageous, a little bit beyond the boundary of “age appropriate” or normal.

But I haven’t seen that in a long time…

She never asks for help. She has tried in the past, just as an exercise, asking for help in areas where she didn’t need it, but simply for the sake of doing it – knowing that asking for help is important for one’s emotional well-being.

…and men like to be needed. So she would strategically offer up an area where she “needed help,” just to provide balance in a friendship or relationship.

She always prided herself on being strong and independent, infallible, and dependable.

But I’ve seen her waver on this…ineptly seeking assistance (she doesn’t really know how) and sounding like the craziest person ever.

She went to talk to a trainer at the gym, signed up for a 60-day program, and as she told her story, she stifled her tears. They talked and the conversation turned to the science of it, which gave her a glimmer of joy – science rules –

…but then a few days later, when she worked on the homework he had given her, she knew she needed to ask for more help. She requested a pricing list and a budget. I was there when she asked this:

“Sadly, I don’t want fun. I want hard, painful, leave-all-my-shit-on-the-floor kind of training that taps into all my dark and twisty places. Let me know because I think you can get me there. I don’t want fun right now. I have deep pain that only pain will cure, if that makes sense.”

She cried and confessed that it sounded crazy. I assured her that asking for help is not crazy and something that she shouldn’t feel ashamed about, if that was her hang-up.

SPEW finally asked one of her other closest friends what therapy was like and if she found it beneficial. Her friend said, “Yes.”

SPEW asked, “Well, did you get strategies? Did you learn to recognize triggers and how to overcome them?”

“It was very helpful to talk to someone who’s objective,” her friend responded. “I couldn’t talk to my friends – they would always take my side. I wasn’t in it long enough to get to strategies, but I probably would have. We just talked about what I was feeling.”

SPEW said, “I talk to myself so much that I think ‘talking’ might be a waste. And I know myself, ” she added. “I sugar-coat things and make everything I do look easy and funny to stuff the pain,” and as she spoke, her eyes filled with tears.

Her friend said, “Well you can’t do that. You have to be honest or it’s not going to work.”

When SPEW heard the answer, she started to cry.

  • watching football makes her cry
  • seeing pictures makes her cry
  • music makes her cry

When she’s not crying, she’s numb, no hopes, no dreams, no joy, no fun, no future, no motivation, no inspiration.

SPEW has been sad before but only when she was stuck in something she didn’t belong…with someone she didn’t belong with…but that’s not where she is right now, so she’s not just sad, but she’s very confused about why she’s so sad.

After her previous traumatic breakup, she felt more fear than she did “sadness.”

But I told her that maybe all this sadness is carried from that experience – and that it has been stuffed down inside her and it needs to come out.

She says that logically, she has no reason to be sad. She has a great job that allows her consistent salary, benefits, working from home, and a free schedule. Shouldn’t that be enough?

Yes, she lost something, but she understands the reasons, and it makes perfect sense.

The loss was for perfectly good, sound reasons. The rational logical math of it all adds up to the right answer for everyone involved.

But are feelings ever logical?

“What if you just tell him what you’re feeling,” I asked.

“I can’t,” she said. “That’s so selfish and narcissistic of me to feel sad about this. What am I to them anyway? I wasn’t anything but a space filler.”

“That’s not true,” I replied. “You know that is NOT logical or even remotely true.”

“But for him and his boy…” she trailed off, and the tears started again. “He wanted to make it work on a different path from me, and I would be in the way. He said it.”

What do you say to that? I want to kick her and hug her…and then kick her again.

“I have to be grateful that they were in my life and that I was a positive influence in theirs,” she added, and the tears flowed heavily, followed by a choking sob, and then stifling into just tears, with no facial expression…just tears…

She’s not the boy’s mom, but she misses him. She lost her friend – and so enter me, who has gone through the same, but with no answers for her.

Do I need to give her an answer?

She’s tried making new friends. She’s tried just being herself in social media – and the saddest part of all, since I’m friends with her on Facebook, that’s where she feels the safest and the “happiest,” if you define that “fake fun” as happy.

She has been going through the motions of a life, pretending to be happy…but I’ve been watching her not be able to pretend anymore. SPEW hasn’t been able to cover it up.

She has tiny breakthroughs…she thinks…but the littlest things stir it up.

Now, she feels overwhelming sadness, oppressive grief, devastating heartbreak…She feels like a failure in everything she does but then rationalizes how stupid that is because she IS smart and funny and really good at what she does.

Seeing SPEW and being with her every day breaks my own heart. Hearing her speak brings tears to my own eyes and brings up my own shit.

Watching her move hurts me.

Not long ago, when she was my best friend before she became SPEW, she did cartwheels, ran around the yard, slid down the slide, swung on the swings, hung upside-down, played on the monkey bars, did handstands, jumped on the trampoline, and wrestled with the boys.

She hiked, ran, laughed and enjoyed life.

I can’t even imagine her doing those things or being like that the way she is now. I cannot remember seeing her smile…really smile. And she used to be known for her smile. That was a magnet for people.

She is worried that she might be a little crazy too, like seriously damaged. In her attempt to make friends, she was doing ok, but now pushes people away.

She has traveled to visit family – thinking that maybe that will fill the void. Perhaps her feelings for the others are just misplaced because she’s not anchored to family. But that actually made her sadder.

She’s concerned about her “dark and twisty” place – and that pain there keeps the pain out of her “real life.” …like a ying-yang thing…like balance.

What do you say to that? 

Because she is missing an anchor, we formulated a game plan to bring forth her inner OCD – have her create her own anchor, so she’s not tethered to a person or a situation outside herself – but give her a home-base in herself so she can return to society as a normal sane person.

We went shopping on Amazon together for journals and calendars that she needed for work, and she and I agreed that maybe she isn’t writing enough down. So we took the notebooks and went through her goals.

Her personal goals and dreams consisted of work and exercise. I noted that she didn’t hope to meet a man or have a relationship. I made that curious observation after she finished brainstorming. She didn’t realize that she hadn’t.

She took the first “official” journal and began answering the “Questions for Self-Discovery” which included:

  • “What do you most value in life?”
  • “Who do you aspire to be in this world?”
  • “What are you most passionate about?”
  • “When do you feel most like yourself?”

Her answer to the last question crushed my soul: She said, “I don’t remember,” and we both sobbed at this. 

Since we are establishing a routine for her that requires consistency, commitment (in small doses), and structure, I also explained that despite the daily tears that flow for no reason at all, maybe she isn’t crying enough…

…maybe she needs regular routine scheduled bouts of whaling, sobbing, and crying until there’s nothing left…

…and then maybe those regular routine scheduled bouts of  whaling, sobbing, and crying will gradually become regular routine scheduled bouts of peace, meditation, and smiling…

…and then maybe the random tears for no reason will be replaced with random smiles and laughter for no reason – the way it used to be.

…and maybe she can return to  doing cartwheels, running around the yard, sliding down the slide, swinging on the swings, hanging upside-down, playing on the monkey bars, doing handstands, jumping on the trampoline, and wrestling with the boys…

…and then hike, run, laugh and enjoy life.

…and then maybe we can add some new dreams to her list.




Year of the Yang Fire Monkey


The beginning of the end started with an email newsletter about the Chinese New Year…YEAR OF THE YANG FIRE MONKEY…

Interestingly enough, I was born in the year of the monkey, and I’m a yang fire person:

“A Yang Fire type person is honest, open-hearted, optimistic, radiates joy, hope, warmth and love. However, they can sometimes be fierce, quick tempered, straight-forward speakers who say exactly what they feel or is on their minds, without much filter. A Yang Fire person feels their emotions deeply both good and bad. In general, a person born in a Yang Fire year will be noticed; often the center of attention.”

I found this fascinating and I reached out to the author, who explained the following:

The Monkey is one of the 3 animals forming a dangerous configuration or clash called “Three Penalty.” This includes the Monkey, the Tiger, and the Snake and together they will generate strong fire elements.

People with this clash may make dramatic changes (such as a job change or move). These can be quite positive opportunities, too! This year it is recommended that a person with a clash carries the pendant of a Snake which will help deflect the Monkey and, therefore, minimizing the negative influence of the clash.

The Monkey resides in the Southwest and is the seasonal birth of the water element. The image is the sun setting in the west and the water helps to temper the fire.

The Monkey is also known as a ‘Traveling Horse.’ This year will bring more opportunities to travel and is good for tourism/hospitality.

Given the set of circumstances both professionally and personally, I took her recommendation to wear a snake pendant.

The pendant arrived at the end of my sickness…and with it, transformed everything.

My health turned the corner…

I consulted with the author to do more work. She said I was coming into great fortune, and that I would meet my mate this year (which caused me to pause, since CA and I were still dating)…I had 2 places to move my bed for good luck:

I could move the head of my bed to the East wall, facing west. This would lead to discovering my mate more quickly.

I felt like vomiting, so I asked what my other option was.

She said I could the head of my bed to the South wall, facing north, in the Southwest corner of the room. This was the wall of financial good fortune.

I chose that wall!

I went through the apartment and slowly applied everything she recommended, except for the water features…my fear being feeding the water when I’m gone…I might have to get over that fear sooner rather than later.

Zombies In The Land Of Confusion

For the record, I have never watched “The Walking Dead.” I would probably like it if I gave it a fair chance. I tried to watch it yesterday, but I couldn’t get into it. I guess it was just too “real” and not enough escapism fantasy for me.

I did watch Warm Bodies – I enjoyed that very much. I have seen it at least 10 times.


I’ve been absent from my beloved blog, and I apologize…more to myself really than to you. You probably just forgot about it 🙂

I need it for mySELF, especially after having experienced what I have experienced this last year. It was gruesome to watch… the slow insidious disease that ravaged this land.

I must’ve dreamed a thousand dreams
Been haunted by a million screams
But I can hear the marching feet
They’re moving into the street.


We thought we were safe from the apocalypse…that we were protected by the fortress we built and the measures we took to arm ourselves against the attack.

However, the Zombies marched in and launched full-scale war. They saw an opportunity…a weakness in our defense…a crack that they could penetrate, and without hesitation, they infiltrated the fortress of awesome.

It wasn’t really a fortress…more like a bubble…but it’s my story.

The attack came on two battlefields: Personal and Career. They knew how strong we were together…and if they could get both of us, the Apocalypse would be just THAT much closer to leaving no survivors in humanity…no one to rock the boat.

The Initial Infiltration

The day I felt “unsafe” for the first time in “Tales of The Extroverted Dominant Submissive Introvert” was the day of the initial attack.

And the Zombie fuckers took over his body – I didn’t know Zombies did that. I expected to see the haunted eyes, the dead skin, the corpse-like lethargy…

But the Zombies do not look like corpses outwardly. They blend very well with the general population.

It’s more like Invasion of the Body Snatchers or Shape-Shifters from Fringe.

As you’ll recall (and if not, then please read Tales Of The Extroverted Dominant Submissive Introvert), my spidey sense was shifted into high alert. I sensed danger, recognized it, protected myself against it the best way I could, and I addressed it the only way a very confused girl could address it…with wit and a text.

After I texted him, informing him that I wanted to slap him, we had a chance to talk.

In that conversation, he said to me, “Have faith in us. Have faith in our friendship.”

I didn’t have a reason to believe that his brain had been taken over…I didn’t know I was speaking to a Zombie who was looking to destroy me…

We went to Mexico and attended the 2015 season opener of the Arizona Cardinals, which was so much fun.

When I went to visit him the following week, his house had been literally destroyed.

“Oh my God! What happened?” I asked him. I thought there had been a water leak or something.

His mattress was in the living room on the floor, carpet was ripped up, closet doors lying around, and the beloved weight room was now in pieces in the kitchen.

“Didn’t I tell you?” he said. “I’m changing everything.”

He hadn’t said anything to me about it.

When the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken


Just 2 months previous to this, we had spent a couple of weekends and solid weeks organizing and sorting everything in the house, from the garage to the sheds to the playroom…movies, tools and toys.

All of the organizing we had done…destroyed in one week!

As he described his plan, he spoke with manic animation, and I clearly saw “crazy” in his eyes.

I was stunned.

“Have faith in our friendship…” echoed in my head. It was the one straw I grasped even though I knew that there was something “off.”

Things continued like this for months. I was only invited to watch football once last fall – and it was more out of guilt since it was Thanksgiving Day and my birthday, and I said that I didn’t want to be alone that day.

He explained to me that he wouldn’t sleep for 3 days in a row…

He was forgetting things, lots of things…like events, conversations, people…so much so that Youngest noticed too.

What’s in your head?
In your head?
Zombie, zombie, zombie

“What’s up with him? He can’t remember anything,” she said to me after all of us went to breakfast one day.

He would get excited to show me progress on the very slow remodel, and then he would pause and look at me quizzically with one eyebrow cocked, and then say…“Well I guess I can trust you…” and then continue to show me what it was…


He literally forgot who I was!!!

…and in those months that followed, we had dwindling time together and lengthy gaps in anything meaningful…

…and then he would show up again, apologizing for being “busy, busy, busy” and being buried in work and not sleeping…and in that moment when he did show up, everything was almost right.

You beg me to go
Then making me stay
Why do you hurt me so bad?
It would help me to know,
Do I stand in your way?
Or am I the best thing you’ve had?

– Pat Benatar

“Have faith in us. Have faith in our friendship,” he said…and I did…until

Enter The Corporate Machine Of Madness

At the same time, the Zombies had split us up in a different battle altogether – They developed an alliance with the Corporate Machine of Madness, led by Lord Business (of course)…and each of us had to face our own separate fights and lead teams against this enemy.

If we didn’t win, the world would be trapped in Darkness, just like Joe Versus The Volcano…marching in the mud to American Panascope, “Home of the rectal probe.”

Who the fuck would want to work there and live like that??? 


This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we’re given
Use them and let’s start trying
To make it a place worth living in.


It was because of this battle that I had such strong faith in our friendship. I needed that safety net…to know that there was another fighting the fight to make the world a better place.

I also know what it takes to build a successful career. I’ve done it 3 times. And it takes focus, perseverance, long hours, dedication, and organization. There isn’t always a day off.

…so realistically, I expected gaps.

He went to work at his new company, and I went to work for mine.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to survive working for a company…I had worked for myself most of my life.

There was a reason that the Universe needed me there…

When I discovered this job, I sincerely thought I had found something that hadn’t fallen victim to the Madness, but as the days went on, blending into one another, and I learned more about myself, my resolve, and the inner workings of this machine, I knew that it was too late…that this company had already been taken over by the Zombies.

I was unsure if I had any true fellowship outside of the Madness. I had hoped that I did…

The Universe sent me alliances in the most mysterious of ways, and of course, it wasn’t who or what I expected them to be.

It started with transportation. In order to march into the Madness day in and day out, I had to drive 30 miles one way.

I might as well have been marching in the mud with Joe!

One fateful day in October, the car had had enough. It just died. I didn’t know at the time that this seemingly insurmountable obstacle was actually the turning point in my favor!

This event allowed me to fully let go of the career that I kept me anchored for longer than a year. I could now legitimately say, “I’m done,” and refer everyone to other hands.

I began to carpool and work more from home. As I did, I began a widespread audible campaign in the form of Webinars, full of my rebellious energy, philosophy, and spirit, looking for people who weren’t fully enslaved by the Zombies to dig in and fight the fight.

…and for those who would listen, I taught them how to stay one step ahead…who the true leaders were…and where to go for messages from the underground! This sparked my happiness and my “fight” – I found my voice and my confidence.

Lord Business discovered my channel and how influential it had become.

…On February 12th, I spent the evening with Deadpool, my spirit animal, and Lord Business retaliated and struck a near-death blow to shut me up…the next day I was struck down by the virus… a virus so powerful that I was in bed for nearly 2 weeks.

I was weak and alone, unable to speak, coughing until I cried, fevered, and weak (worth saying twice).

…and the man once known as Captain Amazing texted me to get together, forgetting that I was sick…

Memories are just where you laid them
Drag the waters till the depths give up their dead
What did you expect to find
Was there something you left behind
Don’t you remember
Anything I said?

I told him how sick I was…He asked if I wanted company, and he came over. We lay on the floor and watched 2 movies.

After the movies were done, and I was coughing up a lung, he said, “You don’t look that sick to me,” gave me a hug, and went home.

Being strong is a blessing and a curse!

In hindsight, the Zombie that was possessing him must have known that the virus was not going to kill me and that I was escaping the Madness.

Two weeks later, the Universe sent me the next alliance … the one that would change everything…

Steve walks warily down the street
With the brim pulled way down low
Ain’t no sound but the sound of his feet
Machine guns ready to go
Are you ready? Hey are you ready for this?
Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?

– Queen


Escaping the Land Of Confusion

Let’s remember New Year 2016…a weekend of hope… and please refer to cosmic forces that may or may not have played a role in what was to come in Year Of The Yang Fire Monkey…I still wear my snake charm.

As we transition into a new year, let us all be free from suffering.

In February, I was struck down by illness, and in March, as I was gathering my strength and my snake charm was working for me, my alliance walked in.

I received a Facebook message from Steve: “We are thinking of hiring marketing director and your name keeps running around in my head. I was just curious how you are and how your J-O-B is going :)”

…to which I replied: “Make me an offer.”

And he did!! It was the career of my dreams and my escape from the Corporate Machine of Madness. Travel, writing, taking on challenges, making my own schedule…everything I had been fighting for.

I accepted the offer and told “the man once known as Captain Amazing” about it. He seemed truly happy for me. He apologized again for being absent and explained that he had also been offered something…the lead role in a play! It was a musical with a Motown theme for a religious holiday, and he had been in rehearsals.

I had to see this!!!

He invited me to dinner and drinks, and he asked me if I was dating anybody.


He must have assumed that in his lengthy absences, I decided to move on. ???????

“No, why would I do that?” I asked. “I don’t want anything more than what is…actually what was before you got so busy. There isn’t anybody who can give me that. You’re the only man I’ve been with for more than 2 years!”

He asked me what I would do if he met someone else but that he wasn’t looking … he didn’t want anything either…


“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t worry about such things until it becomes a reality.”

“Fair enough,” he said.

I asked about the play.

He was hesitant to let me attend, concerned about the potential social conflict among audience members and anything awkward that might arise if HLB were to see me there, run up to me, hug me, want to sit with me, want to come to my house and play…etc.

I assured him that I was not going to cause him trouble. I just wanted to see him on the stage, especially after he showed me his costume!

The night of the play arrived around mid April, and I had a very uneasy feeling which led to ambivalence about going. Youngest didn’t want to go. So I was going to attend alone.

I decided this play was about more than me and anything discomfort I might feel if I were to run into HLB’s mom or other family members.

Have faith in our friendship.

I entered the auditorium and found my place in the back row along the aisle, so I was out of the way but still had a view to take pictures and video.

The irony of that vantage point is not lost on me.

He found me and came and talked to me — He thanked me for coming and said how much it meant to him.  That definitely made me feel better about going.

As I observed the crowd, an eerie sick-like feeling came over me, and as I sat with this nausea, my heart sank.

“I don’t want to be here,” I thought.

He was so happy being there with all these people, and I was squirming, feeling the oppressive weight of Zombies everywhere, breathing down my neck, so close they might see me. I needed to escape.

I knew in that moment that if he wanted that…that suburban apocalyptic day-in-day-out, tract housing and cookie-cutter life, I couldn’t do it.

The people were lovely as individuals…as a collective, they were sheep. And I say that with love – It’s a whole different post to sort out the myriad of thoughts, philosophies, and emotions I felt sitting there.

The one truth I knew – I didn’t belong there. I had been going to soccer games with him and HLB, and I took video and pictures…but I always felt like an auntie…


But that earlier conversation haunted me during the next several weeks…even as he made plans with Youngest and me for a weekly summer get-together for games…

“Are you dating anybody,” he asked – repeated over and over in my head….

He invited me to breakfast and to sync our calendars, but when I arrived, he had already filled his summer schedule with travel…and made plans without including me…

I remember long ago –
Ooh when the sun was shining
Yes and the stars were bright
All through the night
And the sound of your laughter
As I held you tight
So long ago –

We went to see the opening of Captain America Civil War (how ironic), and then I had to leave town in May for 10 days. While I was gone, I knew…saw his demise in a dream I had…felt the cataclysmic shock.

After I returned, he met me out for dinner and told me that he was thinking about returning to the Zombies and living that life. He hadn’t made a complete decision.

I knew…I had been preparing for this…

I told him how weak he was. He was the one man who I thought was brave, strong, and who had my back as much as I had his.

Ooh Superman where are you now
When everything’s gone wrong somehow
The men of steel, the men of power
Are losing control by the hour.

So the zombies claimed another victim, one I didn’t expect to go. He just didn’t have any fight left. He was rendered weak and helpless in the battle against the Corporate Machine Of Madness.

I went ahead and made a decision on my side. I took 2 toys and my toothbrush, the only things I kept in his house.

I hugged him in the doorway, cried a little as I did, and walked to my car. I didn’t look back.

Out of the doorway the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat
Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
And another one gone, and another one gone
Another one bites the dust

Captain Amazing is no more, succumbed to the advances of the Zombies. My small team of superheroes couldn’t save him.

It was gruesome to watch… the slow insidious disease that overtook him until his brain was gone.

In Warm Bodies, I learned that when the Zombies eat brains, they are able to see memories and feel feelings…

Which zombies ate the memories of me? I’ll never know. But I know they’re gone.

I have armed myself for battle — knowing that somewhere, there are Zombies trying to bring me down —

…but are there heroes looking to form an alliance??

I fear I won’t recognize an enemy from a friend.

Truth is: Bullshit women will cry over how they want things to be, rather than accepting and responding to how things actually are.

I will not be that bullshit woman!

But I’m ready, yes, I’m ready for you
I’m standing on my own two feet
Out of the doorway the bullets rip
Repeating to the sound of the beat

What A Real Man Says And Does


A REAL MAN is almost as rare as a unicorn….I’m a unicorn, and there is only one of me…

How would I know what a real man says and does? After all, I’ve only known 2 real men in my life – Those 2 Real Men set the bar quite high.


Sidebar: I began this post in July – since then I’ve added a 3rd – see below. 


One is my brother, so my sister-in-law knows what I’m talking about. He’s a great man. He has recently moved away from our area, and this has shaken me up more than I realized it would. I don’t need to say this just because he is my brother.


The other walked into my life in the most unexpected and extraordinary manner, and we remain faithful friends in our labeless friendship/datingship/relationship type thing, whatever you want to call it.


I avoid putting any male on a pedestal, especially when that status hasn’t been earned.


Many have tried, but they failed at some fundamentals.


A woman (or man, no judgment) cannot just order a REAL MAN and have one delivered…You’ll end up with DiGiorno, and that’s not the Italian you really want to wake up next to.

It’s not delivery. It’s DiGiorno.®.

Once you have tasted

A REAL MAN gives you a coat to wear when you’re both going outside to the patio to visit before bed, and he doesn’t just hand it to you – He helps you into it and wraps you up like burrito, making sure you are warm.


A REAL MAN makes sure everyone is sleeping and comfortable, and he comes to find you, asleep on the couch – and he lies with you all night.


A REAL MAN finds your face in the dark and kisses you before you go to sleep.


A REAL MAN plays with you. And when you text him to schedule a session, he makes time for you.


A REAL MAN allows and expects you to be yourself, even if you’re silly.


A REAL MAN is much happier when you’re happier…and he tells you that!


A REAL MAN  assures you that you cannot fuck up with him 🙂


He still has a lot of catching up to do on “life” because the stress at work and in his personal life is so incredibly all-consuming – It is like the Blob, just taking over everything.


He is constantly fighting the Blob and the work stress – and hopefully soon, life can get back to normal… but the Blob has been around for 6 months.


I have noticed how stress affects this man. He is like me in soooooo many ways.


When the stress becomes too much, the fortress goes up – and all energies go into defending against the enemy and strategically planning the counterattack.


As long as I know that it’s happening, I’m okay with it.


He is a REAL MAN, defending his honor, truth, right to protect and serve himself and his tribe.


The Blob has been all-consuming…sad for me…a house remodel, a new position for me with ridiculously early hours, and more work for both of us:


There hasn’t been a night on the patio in a very long time…sleep-overs are once a month, if I’m lucky…and it’s sad.


Very recently, after I started this post, a 3rd man entered my life. Fortunately for me, Mr. V has stepped in to shine as a REAL MAN in other ways for me.


Champion of hard work and leadership, Mr. V has been my biggest fan during my career shift. Where others have talked the talk, Mr. V has walked the walk.


It’s hard to say if I’ve been burying myself in work BECAUSE of all of the chaos in Captain Amazing’s world or if the chaos in his world has escalated because of my work.


When I recognized that this imbalance between work and personal was not satisfying to me and leaving me empty, Mr. V and I had several awesome talks about what I could do – and that my happiness was of utmost importance.


Never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life.


Two enormous opportunities happened at work simultaneously, all thanks to Mr. V and the encouragement to go for it.


A promotion, a “show” and full-time work-at-home-once-again status (Dreams come true!)


It’s time to put all the pieces back together to further dominate this dream.


I immediately walked across the street and signed up for Lifetime again!


The sales gal asked me what my goal is: “Do you want to tone, lose weight, get in shape…”


I said, “Well, if we are going to be open and real here, I want to pose in a centerfold by my next birthday.” 


She said, “Yess!!! I’m putting that down. You could go do that right now. That’s the best answer I’ve ever had.”


She had a training minion with her – He was gorgeous and learning the software and the sales, and he chimed in and volunteered to be my bodyguard. 🙂




I’m thankful in so many ways. I have a great life, and as always, I’m surrounded by guys I adore – I’m fortunate also that I have REAL MEN in my life too ❤


2016 – He loves me!

Ahhhh, a New Year has begun!


I love the new year and change. It’s possibly because I’m a commitment-phobe, and change prevents me from digging in and anchoring myself.


Here’s the interesting thing: My body has been stuck (anchored??) – glued to an ever present “protecting me from myself” moment – and I haven’t been able to figure out from what…I certainly have not picked a man before myself, nor have I morphed into a zombie, although I have had a 15 shades of zombie eclipse my life from time to time during the last 6 months.


What are my symptoms? Basically I just haven’t felt like I looked like myself, and I haven’t felt like myself either.

body image 1

I’ve been feeling like something is definitely missing. And fun…what’s that? I can only remember “fun” as a vague memory. It’s like “fun” is dangled in front of me as a tease, and I have to chase it down, beg for it.


I haven’t really been as dedicated to my fitness in the maniacal nature that I have been in the past.


I’ve been bored – uninspired…like it’s a job…a chore. Not unlike sex during the zombie apocalypse.


And yes, trail mix is my enemy and Jack Daniels has become my friend with benefits when I’m out with my best-friend-with-benefits/intimate partner/toy…and as much as I would love to chalk up this feeling of aging to AGING, I know it’s more of a spiritual disconnection.


The thing is – I got my career on a full-speed course to dreaminess. I get to write! Although it hasn’t been for me. I get to do marketing! Although it hasn’t been for me. I get to go earn income and be important. Although it’s someone else’s schedule.


I see a pattern emerging.


Tony Robbins mentions this too – You work on one area of your life, like career, then another piece of your life, like your body, then starts to lag, and you go over there and work on that part…and then you work on your relationship…and round and round it goes.


Here’s the thing: My body and I have been fighting lately – in a really nasty passive-aggressive bitchy way.


I’ve been trying to find the solution – What will make you happy, Body? What can I do?


Body replied: “Well, you haven’t been taking care of me.”


I said: “But I joined Orange Theory – I added more movement for you and a stand-up desk at work so you’re not sitting all the time.”


Body said: “That’s not what I need – You know what we both need.”


I said: “But Body, when the car broke, I started walking to get a ride to work, and I woke up even earlier to get more done – And I get out of work on time…”


Body said: “Um, listen to yourself, you idiot! And you come home and keep working. And you’re tired and don’t go to bed…So I’m not budging. And you’re not going to enjoy anything. And I’m going to ruin any good time you could possibly have with your precious Captain Amazing”… (said in a snarky tone and [insert evil laugh here])…


So I proceeded to double my intense workouts – “I’ll make you budge, Body.”


I woke up an hour earlier so I could get more done. I ignored the fact that I wasn’t getting to see Captain Amazing as much (I don’t like to admit that I miss him).


And Body held true to her threat…although I still enjoyed Captain Amazing when I got to see him, but I was slightly inhibited…a little more self-conscious because Body and I were fighting.


I dismissed the fact that I was burning myself out because I accomplished what I wanted to accomplish.


But slowly, the battle between Body and me started crossing the line, and the damage spilled over into my Soul – who thankfully had the good sense to play mediator, requested a truce and long hard look at a workable solution between my Body and me.


I searched and researched – I tried self-administered vitamin injections, I’ve gone vegan 80% of the time, and I’ve hired a personal trainer. I ride my bike or walk to get most places.


But the truth is, in my quest to establish my new career, I did the one thing I didn’t think I would ever do again…


I’ve put myself LAST – AGAIN – Ugh! Does this cycle ever end????


Funny – I’ve been on this healing journey for so long that it has become my lifestyle. But here’s the trick, I’d like to stop the part of the lifestyle where I get stuck – AGAIN.


Everyone on life’s journey has to check in with themselves and has to monitor themselves. The healing is never complete and nobody else can heal you. You have to heal yourself – and seek the guidance of other like-minded people who “challenge” you to stay on the path.


I guess that’s actually why “The Goddess of Healing” has stayed with me – because I’m always healing myself.


It’s a dance, and eventually the practiced steps start to make sense, to the point where the lag isn’t so damaging. And so that when a huge change rolls in, like the one I experienced in 2015, it doesn’t end up knocking you down quite so hard and for quite as long.


Even now, I see signs of discontent with myself, and I still search outside myself for the answer – and the moment I sit down and look within, the answer is so simple.


This time it was simply that I haven’t been paying myself first (putting myself first) and I haven’t been playing outside. I caught it before I completely broke up with myself.


I do believe I can quickly undo this damage.


How did I come upon all of this?


Well, I spent the New Year with Captain Amazing and Happiest Little Boy in Mexico with some other friends. It was a platonic weekend, because Captain Amazing and I go hard when we go at it, and when in mixed company, well there is just no way we can keep it quiet or quick, which is fine with me.


I spent soooo much time with HLB which was sooo awesome and yummy! That kid is a delight to be around. And I think he enjoyed himself too. We were nearly inseparable, except for the little story mentioned below.


We played in the sand, went on the swing, went up and down the stairs many times, watched the sunrise, tickled each other. He “went up top” which something he only does with his dad (he climbed up my back and sat behind my head with his legs wrapped around my neck). We ran away from sharks. We spent several morning hours together, just the two of us, while the rest of the house slept.


Those were important spiritual moments – and the other one, which was an equally bonding moment, was spending January 1st at the ocean alone with my music and moving my body.


It all felt so great. In my little beach workout, I ended up traveling 6.13 miles walking, running, and lunging.


When I returned, everyone was watching Twilight – but what I really needed was some sunshine. I took myself upstairs to the balcony, and I lay myself on the tile and just listened to some comedy right there on the ground, with the sun hitting my face. BLISS!


I always forget that’s an option to ground myself – Just lie on the ground.


Anyway, after about 45 minutes, HLB came up looking for me. He said, “Mindy, you didn’t listen to me.”


I said, “Well what did you say?” As he walked up the stairs and turned the corner to see me lying on the floor, he started laughing.


“Hey, why are you on the floor?” he asked giggling, and as he did, he ran up and jumped on me.


“Oh,UGH!” I laughed as he pinned me to the ground.


“Come play with me,” he said. The two of us went downstairs and played The Good Dinosaur game.


We had snacks and played some more.


The next day, he and I both got up at 6am and drank coffee and ate breakfast together. We watched the sun come up and we got dressed to go down to the ocean and dig in the sand. We played in silence for about 45 minutes or so, until our noses were running and our hands were freezing.


It was time to go up and wake up his dad, and we ran from the sharks that were chasing us from the ocean – We ran up the hill to the castle! And as we went through the door, I said, “Wake up your dad with your cold hands,” and we both inserted an evil laugh there!


Over the course of the morning, packing up our things for our return home, HLB grabbed me and said, “I want a hug and a kiss.” I picked him up, and he said, as he squeezed my neck, “I love you.”


Holy shit!


Now, my rule about saying “I love you” is this: I don’t say it first. It doesn’t matter how old the boy is.


I also haven’t heard that from a male person who truly meant it in probably 15 years. I distinctly remember the last time – The day Youngest was born. And I don’t think that it was really directed at me but rather to the situation.


Sure, there have been a few moments where a dude has uttered it, but I really think the feeling was mistaken…especially since I have felt what it is like to feel the Earth move with someone who isn’t desperate for my energy or wanting to possess me.


Now, truth is, I have to say that I truly love this boy – When love songs talk about that “missing piece” – that soulmate that searches for another soulmate – that would describe this kid and me. This boy has rocked my world!


I said it back without hesitation, “I love you too,” and I kissed him back. He hugged me tighter, and I knew he understood, and I knew it was the right thing to say to this special little man because it was the truth for both of us in that moment.


Holy shit! What do I do now? It’s like a Romeo & Juliet kind of situation. I never expected to ever be in this kind of scenario, much less love it so much that I am at a loss.


So how do I fix this? Is there anything to fix? …my body…my balance…

The Body heals with PLAY…
The Mind heals with LAUGHTER…
The Soul heals with JOY…

I determined that the hours I’ve been dedicating to everyone else are the issue. It’s not my job and it’s not the work I do. That’s a huge relief. So the solution is simple – Just ask to change my hours. I happen to be at a perfect transition for that.


I just have to ask for what I need and how I can make that happen so I am taking care of myself. And that’s really it – It’s the simple, simple dance that is incredibly challenging and easy at the same time – The challenging part is staying the course despite all that I have habituated over a lifetime.



Next up: Captain Amazing finds his groove…

Dream Managing Part 1


I’m sitting on the edge of a deeply skewed reality (delusion technically) while facing an illusion, a dream…A list of them really.


I’ve known for the last year that THIS LAST YEAR was pivotal in making me whole. I’ve known for the last many years, really since the night I “died” in October 2007 that I’ve been broken.


Not just broken in half, like I originally thought. I’ve been shattered into a thousand pieces.


I created the delusion of happiness for my survival so that I could put myself back together. But it’s like putting together a hollow chocolate bunny.


It’s that I don’t have substance or depth – I just haven’t been COMPLETE or whole. And I’ve lived in that skewed reality for soooooo long that I don’t remember anymore what it’s like to be a whole person – and that scares me.


Two weeks ago, we sat in the Dream Room at my awesome work place. To call it “work” doesn’t really capture what this place is and what we do. It’s like Disneyland for business – and nerds 🙂 We have a Dream Room – nuff said.


My team had a dream session with our dream manager: Goal – to dream…and to dream BIG…get outside our comfort zones…then reconvene 2 weeks later with a list of dreams so we can take the next steps to making them come true. #WishUponAStar


I started making my list, and anytime a certain dream made me uncomfortable (i.e. “that’ll never happen”) I wrote it down. Prior to last Friday, October 29, my list looked like this:

  • Youngest, Middlest, and Oldest to be able to travel with me and to be able to come to Rocky Point with Captain Amazing and me.
  • Make $100,000 annually and keep growing that until (see the third item).
  • Fix my shoulder.
  • Create the business that Captain Amazing and I always talk about – and that business earns over $13,000,000 in revenue annually and ultimately monthly.
  • Captain Amazing manages my wealth, and it earns enough money from his mad skills that I don’t have to work anymore, but I still want to because I love what I do.
  • Walk The Camino – Round Trip
  • Plan, attend, lead other retreats worldwide.
  • New Car that I OWN – and 1 for Middlest and 1 for Youngest …Plus a fun car that I own…no payments…and someone I can rely upon to handle all of the maintenance on it so that I don’t have to worry about that stuff.
  • Play tennis again consistently.
  • Employee of the month.
  • A new position at work created for me 🙂
  • Write, publish, and sell my books –
  • A “Personal Team” – in which it’s a family but without the traditional headaches of a family – Completely new invention of what a “family” is and what a “couple” is:  with a new house with a “man cave” and “woman cave” for private time for the adults…further defined as the blog has been laid out (See My Radical Views of Relationships, Voices And Other Things In My Mouth)
    • House on a beach (beaches)
    • House on a lake North to escape the summer heat.
  • Bodyfat percent of 18% because I lift weights appropriately, do an appropriate amount of cardio, have a personal trainer that I see every day, and a personal chef who plans out my food so I don’t have to do it.
    • True Confession: Pose in Playboy when I turn 50 (I wrote that gem down when I was 18) – Although I’d like to do that the first time at age 47 and then be a recurring guest.
  • Spend more social time with people that I like on a consistent basis.
  • Restore my neural pathways to undo traumatic damage.
  • Equine therapy (although I think I’d be really outstanding at this)
  • Skydiving
  • Travel the world – seeking adventure, but also writing about it, podcasting about it. Maybe for a whole year (depends on the formation of the PERSONAL TEAM and how the Monthly Revenue shakes out – because I want them on these journeys)…
  • Retreats – this has been a recurrent dream that is currently in negotiation with one of my clients. I tried to get that off the ground as a business, but I was in “desperation” mode, and dreams don’t come true in “desperation” mode.
  • Plan more vacation and more time off so that I can have more of a life.
  • Continue to add to this list
  • Be a public speaker – Ted Talk and Wisdom 2.0 – More importantly, The Moth.
  • Go to Turkey for Maya’s detox program – Attend her certification in Kundalini Yoga.
  • Go to a 4-week intensive fitness, yoga, mega healthy retreat.
  • Go to Bali and write with Mastin Kipp
  • The winning lottery ticket for the carpool duo.

I put some of the things in motion as I was writing them down. Ironically last Friday, my car broke, to the point that it may be totaled. I think the trauma was internalized.

Captain Amazing rescued me – so good!

I’m now carpooling to work, spending quality time with someone I like very much, and with whom I can have elevated discussion.

I am close to picking up enough clients to satisfy the extra $50,000 I need to hit the $100,000 annual, so now I’m growing that.

I did reach out to my tennis coach, but I had to cancel that lesson. Regrouping on that one.

And then…I found out that I’d been nominated for employee of the month – While I didn’t win ultimately, the magical list is doing it’s thing.

…to be continued…


One Girl’s Misadventure Seeking Self-Value

…And Inadvertently Ending Up In A Scene From…

This story required me to create the category “WTF???”

Even when I told Captain Amazing the story, he said, “That’s frickin’ hilarious.”

He was a bit quicker on the uptake than I was, but he’s a man…nuff said.

I was writing all morning about my foray into my low self-value, when my friend and neighbor, Mr. Golfer, texted me.

Mr. Golfer is 20 years my junior and has had a crush on me since he was 19 years old. It’s kind of like that song Stacy’s Mom by Fountains Of Wayne, except he was never a friend of my daughter’s, so the reference here is just that I guess I’ve got it going on!

We met when we both took a workout class together for other pro golfers in the area. Tennis and golf have similar ranges of movement, tennis being superior since we swing both ways…

I’m referring to the backhand and forehand…geesh 🙂

Since that class, he has requested to hire me multiple times, and he texts me every few months…with a “Heyy” or “‘Sup.”

The times he tried to hire me, he lacked money…perhaps thought I would give my services away for free…or worse…in exchange for (???!!!!)

…He’s invited me to go on tour with him…and the conversation always seemed to turn to my legs and ass, which I am happy that they look good enough for someone that young to be interested…

And one time, 4 or 5 years ago, he did show up for a massage, displayed his erection under the sheet when he flipped over, which I ignored and completed my job (without a hand or a blow).

He then claimed that he didn’t have the money to pay and needed to get cash. Needless to say, he took off without returning.

During a particularly low time in my life a few years ago, he asked me out – as in he wanted to date me. I established all the ground rules, and he told me I could teach him things about being a “real man.”

I actually considered it for a few minutes, and I ultimately declined his request.

I told him, “I just don’t want to teach anyone right now. I want someone who knows what he’s doing so I can turn my brain off.”

He said he understood and appreciated my honesty and my response, because most girls just don’t say anything at all.

…and he has continued to reach out every couple of months.

One time, he was texting me while I was at Captain Amazing’s house. I shared the exchange with CA.

Mr. Golfer actually asked me for a hand job. CA and I laughed our asses off.

The Measurements Of Persistence & Insistence

The last time he texted me a couple of months ago, he said he had money and that he was very serious about getting in shape and improving his golf game because he was starting to make some money and was on tour for long stretches of time.

I believe in people and their ability to change. And since he’d been incredibly young, I had to give him the benefit of a doubt that he would outgrow this overtly over-sexualized phase, so I prepared a schedule for him and calculations.

However, when I sent him the invoice to pay, he didn’t…and I decided he still lacked some maturity, and he wasn’t really serious.

So on Saturday morning, I had been writing about owning my value, declaring it, establishing it, and not settling for less than what I declare that value to be, and it was time to go to the gym.

I was listening to music on my walk home when my text went off.

Mr. Golfer: “Hey I just got back again! Are you free for a massage today?”

I replied: “No, I have my day scheduled, and I’m working. How long are you in town?”

Mr. Golfer: “About a week, then I leave for 2 and then back…traveling so much…Hope all is well…Have you been lifting a lot too?”

I replied about working and working out and the commute to work. He said he hoped to see me soon and that he was glad everything was going well.

The years have improved his conversational skills slightly … elevating them from Heyyy and ‘Sup…

I said something about changing my workouts to get my body and workouts the way I want them.

He said: “I bet you look great, as always…those tennis legs and ass…Haha.”

I said: “Thanks!! Well- my calves look great.”

He said: “I wanna see” followed by the heart eyes and the kiss emojis. …He added, “You’re off tomorrow? Start back up Monday?”

I told him that I was indeed not driving into work…He said that he’s been earning extra cash so he could do the training schedule I set up last time we talked about it.

I asked if he could pay with a credit card. He said he preferred cash because he had been setting it aside for me. He told me I could come by and grab a deposit of cash today, since we are neighbors. We confirmed the price at $300 for 3 sessions.

There was a bit of schedule discussion, and then he returned the conversation back to coming over to collect the money.

He said: “Ok – when do you wanna stop by? I want you to take a look real quick of my problem areas I’m having, and I’ll give you the money and then we will be ready to get this show on the road…Then I can go practice.”

He asked me if I had a tape measure. I said yes and asked him if he had the money. He said yes.

My Spidey-Sense and I considered that he might pull a double cross:

A) He wouldn’t have any money at all.
B) …that when the tape measure was out, he was going to say, “Measure this!” and pull his problem area out of his shorts.

Would he really think this would play out like the opening scene of a porn video?

No, certainly NOBODY is THAT stupid!

I’ll admit it – I was curious about what he would really do if I showed up at his place for the money, although I did hope that this was a legit business exchange.

I placed a wager with my Spidey-Sense – $1 – Game On!

I have had views into people’s computers, and what I have seen is…well….interesting. There are some habits I have seen, some searches, and some sites that are actually pulled up.

One person opened a browser window and said, “Oops, I was watching a movie earlier. You caught me.” 

I said, “Well it could have been worse. It could have been a more adult-type video…and FYI, I don’t judge. This is like…Vegas…”

We both laughed. However, later with someone else, the porn search was on every browser…not that I care because I really don’t. It’s between them and their computer. I seriously don’t judge.

Interestingly, the San Fernando Valley is the Porn Capital of the world, producing 90% of the world’s pornographic films, and Utah leads the states in the US in most per capita consumption of porn.

It’s a worldwide $97 Billion dollar industry, and the people of the United States spend $13.6 Billion dollars on porn.

So you do the math…

Someone you know is watching porn, probably right now – just saying. 

Of course, there is the position that it creates unrealistic expectations when it comes to sex – TRUTH –

…but Captain Amazing and I talk about it: “Wow, how is that physically possible?” I will ask, and I will point out how impressive some of those acts are – and we will analyze the physics and the positioning.

I am not intimated by that, however, because we are just so much better than the videos – we both noted that, just saying.

The unrealistic and sometimes absurd sexual acts aside, the writing is absolutely ridiculously hilarious, which probably lends itself to more of the unrealistic expectations….as you’ll soon see. #foreshadowing

I told Mr. Golfer that I was sweaty from my workout and didn’t really want to be seen, and he said his place was a mess and he just showered and asked me not to judge.

I pivoted the conversation back to the schedule. Perhaps the schedule wouldn’t work for him, and I could avoid this whole exchange with integrity, with boundaries, and without guilt.

I told him my only available time to train in the gym this week would be Tuesday and Thursday at 4:30am…I added, “You can decline because I know that’s insane.”

He said: “I can try…you just gotta wake me up….I’ll leave the door unlocked on those days so you can get me out of bed at 4 LOL.”

I said: “How am I supposed to do that? Pour ice on your head?”

He said: “Careful…I sleep naked.”


My Spidey-Sense and I continued our side-bet conversation. I decided this could be at worst worth a story and I could kick his ass if he tried anything, so I maintained my wager with my inner voice. I told him I was on my way.

He said: “Ok. I’m brushing my teeth. I’ll just be ready to be measured…is that fine? Boxers is fine?”

“Oh Brother…” I thought….and boxers? Really? 

I told him he could throw a pair of shorts on…that wouldn’t affect the measurements…“I don’t think THAT is one of your problem areas,” I said.

He said: “Lol we will see. I’m in shorts, no shirt.”

I paused. Does he really have the money? At best, I am charging full price and will get cash, and I defeat my Spidey-Sense in the side-bet. At worst, I get a story.

I made one last attempt to add some time into the equation…I tried to claim a phone call…I asked him to meet me downstairs.

He said: “Just come up real quick so I can get to practice. I’m not wearing socks.”

I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, he was just going to keep bothering me.

I arrived at his apartment, and to my great relief, he did, in fact, have his shorts on when he opened the door.

I remained completely professional as I walked in. We talked about his pain, his swing, his body fat. I took his waist measurement, asked for his height, and we chatted a bit more about the schedule. I had been there approximately 3 minutes.

He said he was going to go in the other room to get me the money, and he went into the bathroom and closed the door, as if he it was in some secret hiding place. He was there for a few minutes and I was taking notes, standing in the kitchen.

NOTE: When I was telling Captain Amazing the story, it was at this point, when he said, “Oh no.”

Mr. Golfer walked back out and over to me. He stood next to me and smacked my ass.

???!!!! WTF???

…and in a split second pulled down his shorts, and asked me to take another measurement.

!!!!!!!!!!!! Again WTF???

I didn’t look down but could see in my peripheral vision that he rubbing his cock.


I said, “No,” and I put my pen in my notebook, with my measuring tape, and I headed toward the door. “I’m out,” I said.

He said, “Wait…let me just jerk off for you.”


Let me just take this moment to say – Guys, why would that be something that we gals would really want to see, especially when we don’t know you that well?

How does your jerking off in front of me benefit me in any way? Seriously…I’d really like to know the logic.

What did he expect my response to be?

“Oh well in that case, let me stick around. I’ll pull up a chair – Show me what you’ve got!”

Now that I think about it, that’s exactly what I should have done – and then when he was done, I would say:

“That’s it?? That’s all you got…I’m not impressed.”

Story-Worthy Dominance

I opened the door, and left…and I actually felt a little scared for approximately 2 seconds, not gonna lie – like he was going to chase me down with his pants around his ankles and whack me with the weapon in his hands, or worse, hose me down which was somewhat plausible, since that’s what he wanted to do.

And I was a bit angry because I lost the bet to my Spidey-Sense.

He immediately texted me.

“Don’t be mad,” he said. “I need to give you the money. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.” 

I thought about my response. I could fly off the handle and tell him what a turd he is…I truly think he needs maturity and some therapy…that’s stating the obvious. I actually felt sorry for him.

But I’m writing about it!!! 🙂

I said, “Look, just lay out the expectation. Don’t bring me over under false pretenses. Were you really expecting the opening scene of a porn video? If you’re just looking for sex, let me tell you what my dude tells anybody who speaks of hitting on me…”

I’m not worried about you hitting on my girl. She will break you. – Captain Amazing

He apologized again.

Then my head went into the ass-kicking movie montage – my bucket-list fantasy of kicking the shit out of a dude who pulls any unsolicited funny business with me.

I could be…

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider


Terminator 2


Black Widow in Iron Man 2

black widow kick

black widow mace

… culminating with The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.

dragon tattoo

I thought about getting some rope from CA that we aren’t going to use and teaching this guy a lesson.

I lectured Mr. Golfer on boundaries and reminded him that he owed me money and he needed to get his shit together. He said he would do as I say and said, “Yes Ma’am” a couple of times.

That’s better!

As cool as it would be to kick his ass, I explored what I know about dominance and submission and the psychology of this situation – He is definitely attracted to my take-charge, confident, take-no-shit, dominant side of my personality – that’s the card I show so this kind of crap doesn’t happen.

So to tell him about all the ways I could torture him with the tools I have and the things I know would have only fueled his self-pleasure to a crescendo, and I would prefer to deflate his moment.

That said, he needed to know his place…

“You WILL do as I say ALWAYS,” I said.

He agreed, “I will do whatever you say.”

That’s better!

I let the incident fade as I sat here to type out the details – Definitely one for the record books because that honestly has never happened to me “real life” before.

It’s been offered online, but in person has a much different overtone.

I’ve had people ask me if I will miss doing massage and training…I suppose there are parts that I will miss.

…and then again, “Nope, not at all.”

And I paid my Spidey-Sense $1 for the bet.

A Surviving Working Girl’s Self-SWOT Analysis

Where Confidence Collides With Self-Devaluation

I had my first review with my new employer. This is my first “real” job in a “real” adult-type career that I’ve ever had in my life.

I have waited tables in regular restaurants and in a comedy club, managed both as well; worked as a directory assistance operator briefly; entered zip codes for the post office at night while I was pregnant with and after giving birth to my second baby; and then created my stay-at-home work as a medical transcriptionist, followed by my career as a trainer and massage therapist. And then, of course, the job of wife and mother, followed by ex-wife and single mother, followed by ?????????? Yikes – that’s a variety of jobs.

I don’t think waiting tables or managing a comedy club count as real careers. There’s too much flirting taking place while on the job and a lot of drinking after work.

Furthermore, it’s probably safe to say that any job where you collect a handout in the form of a tip as the major source of income is not really an “adult-type” career either – and I say that with gratitude and respect, having spent half of my working life making a living earning tips.

I’ve been seeking to determine where my low self-value lies, which is different from confidence and self-esteem. I’ve never been able to determine the price or worth of what I do or who I am because I have spent most of my life performing my best at what I do, and allowing other people to determine the value for that performance, which has amounted to the cash in their pockets.

And it’s probably more than that too…There are flecks of female mixed with the unicorn inside me.

Stereotypically speaking, we females are not taught to value ourselves with dollar amounts because we work domestically as wives and mothers, for which the value of those jobs is determined by the cash (and love unfortunately) in the husband’s pocket, and in my case, the pay was shitty in both areas, which required me to hustle for cash in other people’s pockets…strictly monetarily.

I didn’t have love or seek it elsewhere, which led to an entirely different level of poverty, my lack of intimacy.

And when that marriage fails – notice, I said “when,” – then what? Our appearance is a major factor in how we value ourselves, plus the handouts of cash and love in other people’s pockets, while we pick up the shattered pieces of self-esteem, self-worth, confidence… continue to work as mothers and ex-wives for which there is no longer any perceived value or compensation except as insults and court battles, plus earn an income where we are required to come up with a dollar figure to charge other people for our skill-set, talent, knowledge…things that we have only ever given away in exchange for cash, love, and lint in someone else’s pocket.

That’s a big AHA moment.

So it’s safe to say that I’m very damaged on a multitude of levels – focusing here on the value of my work. The real question now is – How do I repair the damage? Probably an even greater question might be: Was there ever a time when I was not damaged? 

“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.”
— Josephine Hart

Strength: The Value In An Ass Kicking

During my review, I sat across from The Skipper, my boss.

It’s funny really because he is nothing at all like The Skipper from Gilligan’s Island. He’s Italian and we use a lot of Mafia terminology when we speak about him and to him, but one day, I called him Skipper, and the name has just stuck for me.

He told me that I’m “kicking ASS!”


This job is challenging because I’ve gone from solo, paid-by-the-minute, self-enslaved, quasi-business owner, whose value has been determined by the cash and random lint in someone else’s pocket, to being a salaried member of a tight-knit team comprised of wonderful people, who share my core values (maybe express them slightly differently) and who are at least 15-20 years younger than me.

Age has nothing to do with anything really. It’s a silly insignificant number with less value than the cash and lint in my clients’ pockets and is more about perception.

But having more life experience outside of the building where I earn my income brings certain value, and I have trouble recognizing that.

Even more of a challenge is letting go of the “paid-by-the-minute” model of earning income, which has been all I have ever known.


I’ve been working myself to death, scheduling call after call after call, without a break, not even for lunch or for meetings or for random chit-chat, and leaving the followup to those calls for the weekends, without a break –

…because woven into my cellular structure is this: “I don’t get paid unless I’m working.”

Intellectually and logically speaking, I know this is bullshit. And I teach other people how to maximize their earning potential by shifting their products from an hourly-type model to a subscription-based, evergreen, repeatable, digital, do-the-work-once-and-automate-the-process model, so they can become rich.

I can and should do that for myself too. Therein lies the problem…I haven’t been. Why?  The truth is, when I do, I will be rich. So why am I putting it off? Do I really enjoy being a lint pickpocket? The answer is, “No, I do not.”


I had been basically paying myself nothing and working-by-the-minute so I can survive even when I’m working myself to death, and when I recognized what I was doing, I put some time off on the board.

I slowed down just a bit…stopped racing around like a lunatic. I took a couple of deep breaths and went outside. I went on some long walks, and I listened to some comedy…some very talented storytellers.

I did ask for some comedic suggestions – One FB friend asked back, “What kind do you like?”

…to which I replied, “The kind that makes me laugh.” …DUH!

During my review, The Skipper repeated himself and told me I was kicking ass (clearly my own). He then asked me to come up with a goal for myself that would benefit me and the team.

I said that I could teach the things that I know about websites, writing, marketing strategy, social media – all of my channels of shameless self-promotion that I utilized in order to maximize the number of pockets with cash and lint that walked through my door.

I also shared a moment of somewhat intimacy, where I explained this lack of self-value and how I continue to give myself away.

I explained the above, when I asked myself, “Why am I not following up with my products and putting it out there?”

It’s because the VALUE that I have placed on it (because I charge a low fee or give it away) is less than taking a break…because I have not put the appropriate price tag on what it is that I do to work on that project to reap the benefits of what I know and can teach. That requires confidence, which I seemingly have a ton of. Ironically, my confidence is a skill to survive not to thrive.

Furthermore, I had historically, prior to July, surrounded myself with people professionally who provided me with lint in exchange for me working my ass off on the behalf of the team – I speak this without blame because I allowed it and didn’t value my talent or skill-set, and didn’t have a number to give them. They opened their pockets and offered their lint.

Threat: Using Confidence In My EDC

Survivalists plan for catastrophes and should have their EDCs (every day carries) with them. My EDC is filled with confidence to use when I need it. That’s good, right? Um…

In my review, The Skipper also pointed out that I have a great deal of confidence and that can be intimating, as if I had been using it as a weapon.

Inside, I was laughing my ass off. My “confidence” is actually a survival skill. It comes from me having a chat with myself, where I say, “Self, you have two choices…these are the results…survive or die.”

Therefore, I am confident to survive. But I haven’t had value around that confidence. Such that, I will isolate myself because I don’t think anyone would benefit from what comes easy for me.

The things that come easily for me are things that I go into my EDC – for my survival.

I can feel that “flight or fight” going on inside me, and I’ve had panic attacks in the night and seriously disturbed sleep.

Sure I do too much – It’s to survive. But I think the sleep disturbance is telling me to shift from surviving to thriving because I’m in a position to do so, and anyone with post-traumatic stress could tell you that it’s really hard to adjust from surviving to thriving…the bed is uncomfortable…I wake up prepared for battle and think about it later.

The SWOT Smoothie

Somewhere on my self-damaging life’s journey, I mixed self-value, with “love” and with money – and put them all in a giant blender and created a nonsense myth-filled SWOT smoothie, the myth being that these are interdependent ingredients that I need in order to survive.

And now I’m slurping this smoothie with a straw and extracting the vital bits, separating them out, and putting the ingredients back where they belong.

Being a unicorn is awesome – I feel like my whole complete self as a unicorn. But it’s really unclear if there is an adult-type future in it either, whatever that means. I was told to have faith – and for the first time in my life, I do. It’s shaky sometimes, but that’s when I bravely pick up the phone and text CA, and then we talk or get together…schedule some sex.

That’s about all the cuddling and lovey stuff I can muster.  The result is fun and I can breathe again.

But I think the real key to making the shift from survivalist to thrivalist lies in declaring my value and not wavering. Because I no longer have to hustle for tips or bend over backwards to maximize the lint I can collect from people’s pockets.

It’s time to shift from damaged survivalist fixer-upper, most-of-the-time unicorn to full-fledged, rock-star, all-the-time unicorn.


Tales Of The Extroverted Dominant Submissive Introvert

I am an enigma wrapped in a mystery. I am an extroverted dominant submissive introvert. I should have a cape or a mask, secret identity, and go on undercover missions because I can disguise myself as either part of myself.

Since I am still in the most significant relationship/datingship/friendship thing of my life (without labels, of course, and no, it’s not a relationshit), I’m learning a lot about what makes me tick, and it scares the crap out of me!

For the first time in my history with this man, I felt unsafe for a moment, and I can finally articulate exactly what I want, in all its ambiguous clarity. 🙂

This might not end well…but the whole middle part is awesome!

Part 1: The Friendless Social Butterfly

The first part of the story started when Captain Amazing and I had our calendars out, discussing the next two weekends and how we would be spending our time.

He asked me if traveling to Mexico sounded good.

“YES PLEASE!” I said.

“Cool,” he said. “And we’ll come back Sunday and go to the Cardinals season opener.”

He then asked, “Do you have any friends you’d like to invite?”

I paused, thinking. There was an uncomfortable silence as he stared at me and I looked somewhere else, contemplating the question.

It’s one of those questions that scatters everything out of my brain, so there is nothing left in my head, and I have to spend a few minutes trying the coax my thoughts back into the room.

“…um…” I said.

Then he added (which was unavoidable), “…or do you have friends?”

I DO have friends, but not the way most other women have friends…I think…

I don’t actually have a regular “group” of friends. For my whole life, I have often selected one or two individuals from different social groups, and I float from group to group –

It’s important that I know a lot of people – not for me…for them. I introduce them to each other for dating reasons and business reasons, but it’s typically via an email introduction, and then I let them come together in their way. I’ve tried to co-mingle with the introductees, and I don’t care for it. There is too much responsibility for me to ensure the meeting goes well. My preferred part is simply the intro and leave everything else to them.

Even though I know many, many people, I often lose touch over time. Not because there are hurt feelings or dislike – It’s more of time constraints and growth in other areas. And I don’t let people get too close to me. The last time I did, they died.

I said, “No I guess not. I mean, I do have friends, but nobody right now that I’d want to spend an entire weekend out of town with.”

Although, he could invite anybody he wants, and I would be perfectly happy with that! I’m also perfectly happy just the two of us.

People often see me as completely, without a doubt, totally extroverted and brave because my personality attracts a lot of attention.

There is another side of me that stays at home, reads, writes, is extremely disciplined in exercise, and avoids attention. I love doing that – it gives me a competitive edge!

While I love my alone time, I am very, very outgoing. I can have a blast doing nothing all day OR hanging out with people all day. I love to do both. I’m often otherwise dedicated to my work, my alone time, my exercise, and to the people who are most important to me.

I am often quiet, but I love to talk. I enjoy the intimacy of hanging out one on one rather than in large groups, even though I’m not a very intimate person.

Small talk annoys me.  I avoid it. I don’t want to talk about how bad the weather is or what’s going on in the world. That said, I am completely happy chatting it up with friends and strangers.

I do put myself out there, live fairly fearlessly, and I have a great time when I do go out. But my time is precious, and I have a lot of necessities (exercise, kid-time, discipline) to squeeze into my day, and I still live inside my head (which is probably the scariest place). My thoughts are always analyzing situations and how I feel (which I keep to myself). I also don’t like to spend money on myself.

I am often perceived as a leader. I am driven to succeed, work long hours, do my best in everything, solve problems, and make systems more efficient, but I cannot manage people. I expect people to manage themselves and comply with the same rules I give myself.

What drives me? I’d love to say it’s for myself, my glory, my riches, but it actually isn’t. It’s for those in my very, very tiny inner circle. Without them, I am a lost soul with no direction. I need the leader that complements my nature. I am the dominant submissive – (play theme song)

All of these thoughts, behaviors, and attitudes around success require me to ‘turn it off’ in other areas. I strive to dominate most scenarios, not settle for being less than my best, but I don’t do it for me. It is to ensure that my inner circle is pleased.

…or is that how I dominate? (Insert evil laugh here)

It’s a very compelling question which leads me to part two of the story:

That Which Gives Me Strength Is Simultaneously My Kryptonite

The most significant back story required to really lay the foundation of what is to come below is the couple of times when the subject of living together had popped up – We had talked about talking about it twice, at length and in detail, both in the spring and in July, which resulted in his decision to never go down that road, even though he was the one who initiated the conversation.

The underlying current of thought for me consists of “who am I” and “what do I want” – two questions that I say I ask, but I really avoid because neither has a safe answer.

So, we were chilling in the pool, and Captain Amazing shared his new book collection – He decided that he’s going to try to figure himself out when it comes to relationships. He said that he is set in his ways and on a specific path…and isn’t going to change…

…Cool – he shouldn’t change…

His brilliant idea, as he described it, went something like this: That when he finds the right submissive girl, he will know how to take care of her without making a mess of everything else.

I’m paraphrasing – this is what my personal reality heard.


He went on to say that whomever he finds will need to not touch his money because he is on a specific path to savings, and would have to be great with his sons, especially HLB, and not want kids…


While I do appreciate that I am, indeed, the coolest chick on the planet and not quite a human because I’m a unicorn, I still am partly human/female, although maybe he didn’t know who he was talking to??? Sheer panic arose inside me for many reasons.

  1. Holy shit, I am not his first choice, not his best choice. Clearly, I need to step up my game! Shit!
  2. I don’t want him to “change.” Evolve – sure. Figure himself out – great. Change? No.
  3. I don’t want his money or anything from him. Shit! Why doesn’t he believe this?
  4. I am not the best choice for this boy??????? …as HLB was tightly gripped to my neck because we had been playing in the pool together, swimming with and away from the sharks and whales in the pool –  Shitty, shit, shit!

This might not end well…but the whole middle part is awesome!

Instantly, I felt like I had been thrown from a cliff. He continued to chat merrily about all the reading he’s been doing, staying up all night fascinated by this subject and by upgrading his internet.

But all I could do was stand there in the water, with my mouth agape, trying to collect my thoughts which hadn’t scattered unfortunately. Rather, they sat like cement blocks inside my gut.

HLB was done in the pool. He wanted to go take a nap.

“Come on Mindy,” he said. “I want to go inside.” 

He wanted me to take his swim wings off and give him his towel.

As the three of us walked into the house, I turned to Captain Amazing and said, “Let me know when you figure me out with all your reading. I’m probably inside those books – I’m kinda weird.” I tried to keep it light because I just didn’t know how to respond.

I did, however, recognize that it was mission critical that I say SOMETHING to at least initiate the conversation that probably should start out like: “What the fuck, Dude?????” 

He said, “I haven’t figured you out yet. You’re definitely agreeable. I am sure we’d find something to fight about – probably money, like someone bought something and that led to an argument…” He continued to somewhat ramble about this while he was getting HLB ready for a nap, and HLB then became the center of attention with a mini-meltdown because he was tired.

Instead, I dug deep to bring out the part of me that can detach from something uncomfortable or dangerous, so that I can internally analyze the situation before I make a decision on the best course of action.

…but my gut was flashing a big red DANGER sign, and I just couldn’t shake that something was not right.

We watched a movie and it was as enjoyable because he and I sat together, touching and I needed that so badly…to feel safe again.

But when the movie was over, he said, “Let’s go play with the modem.” So we went into his office and he started telling me all about how hackers can get into your internet.

He has very good reasons for his feeling unsafe – stemming from things that I cannot talk about. But I understand that from a logical point of view. He has every reason to feel threatened by the events that have unfolded and are continuing to unfold in his life.

However, I sat listening, as I often do, with my undivided and complete attention to every word, his body language, his intelligence, the speed of his speech, and the thoughts – and it reminded me of Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory, where Jerry’s manic paranoia is justifiable but delivered in an oh-so very over-the-top fashion.

…and for the second time in one day, I felt unsafe, although not for my own safety, …. for his.


I left him to do his work, and HLB woke up from his nap. We played and all was right with the world.

I went to check on CA, and he was in the dark room, lying on his bed prone. I sat next to him, and I rubbed his back while he expressed his frustration and rambled about the internet…and he said how tired he was, and he started to drift. I assured him that he could sleep, that he was safe, and that I could take care of all the kids.

I left him there, closed the door, and took care of all the kids…with cement in my gut.

The older kids played video games, and HLB and I played outside on the trampoline and on the jungle gym. We played baseball, soccer, and catch. We made “cupcakes” and did the dishes. I fixed dinner, and the kids and I had great conversation about sleep, laziness, Coke, food, video games, school – all the important stuff in kids’ lives.

Then HLB took a shower and I put his jammies on him, and he wanted to read. We tucked ourselves into his bed and read several books, until I fell into an uncomfortable sleep – too sad to cry – stomach hurting – heart breaking.

Youngest came in and said she was ready to leave, so we packed up our things, said very brief “goodnights,” and went home.

This man gives me strength and makes me weak. UGH!

It was time for the hard part – sleeping with Kryptonite in my gut.

Part 3 of the story –

How A Submissive Introvert Expresses What She Wants In A Quasi-Extroverted Dominant Fashion

I couldn’t sleep. My heart was racing, my thoughts were racing. I actually entertained the thought that I had internally “taken on” his exhaustion-induced quasi-manic episode so he could sleep.

I was so worried that I couldn’t even collect a coherent thought to write or to work or to move.

I texted him to try to initiate the conversation. Initiation is difficult for a submissive introvert. I have to call forth all of my extroverted dominance, but in this arena of feelings, asking for what I want and expressing myself feels like I’m both attacking and being attacked – and the one person who can keep me safe and talk about the situation logically with is the one person I have to face.

I don’t like those kinds of feelings and I am not “romantic” at all. I would prefer to be pinched or slapped or self-inflict some sort of torture (which is probably why I exercise the way I do) than to express heart-felt feelings. They are there, but I prefer they stay buried in a deep dark cave where no one will find them.

I told him I wanted to make sure he was okay and that I wanted to slap him and then have him inflict pain upon me until all these feelings went away.

He had no idea what I was talking about.

What do I want?  We met 2 years ago – My life changed that day. I knew it because of what I physically felt. But I also did not know to what level my life would change.

So what do I want? I mean really, really want? These are things he doesn’t know. He couldn’t have known because I haven’t known how to sum it up in a nice neat package until now. Maybe it’s time he gets to know me just a little bit better…

I’m like an iceberg. The smallest part of me is what you see.

All I want, whatever it looks like, is to crawl into his arms, wrap them around me, and have him protect me – to feel safe inside there.  I could live there forever. I don’t care what the outside of that cocoon looks like – marriage, living arrangements, finances – I don’t care about those things; they are meaningless to me. That’s why it’s so difficult to express what I want in terms that others would understand.

So my introverted submissive dominates that conversation – by saying nothing at all – even though that is the part of me with the strongest needs.

I want his protection around me…and the things that go with that: Sex, sleep, safety, and satisfaction (more sex too).

One of the first questions he ever asked me was “Do you feel safe? Do you trust me?” And my response then is the same as it is now: “I trust you with my life.”

When he first asked me that, we hadn’t had sex yet, and he still made me feel that way. He always has.

Whenever the world is off-kilter, I know that I can just hear his voice, see his face, touch his skin, and I feel infinitely better. That’s all I need. It’s all I have ever needed, like breathing.

I never want that to go away because I’ve never felt that with anyone until him. He is my rock – THE one man – who can provide that for me.

There is a submissive part of me who wants him to tell me what to do because he would do right by me, and I wouldn’t have to think so much. He’s better at those things than I am.

… and at the same time, I want to protect him and his boys – keep them safe – I want them to know that I won’t abandon them, just like I won’t abandon my own kids…and it’s more than a “want” – It is a need, like breathing.

…That I’m there and that I’m always striving to be the best for them, whatever that looks like – that I am enough because of who I am. And for someone like me, whose inner circle is microscopically tiny, that’s an entire world.

And I’m not going to take their things, their money, their other people – just like I wouldn’t do that to my own kids – They are my inner circle.

There are times in the night, and I don’t think he knows this – when he calls out to me, like a little boy with bad dreams. There are sounds he makes that sound like a small child. I wake up and look around, looking for one of the kids, but he is the only one there. I often wonder if he goes back to those times, in his boyhood, when he is seeking that safety…the same safety I need… and I offer it to him, unspoken, like breathing.

I made a pact – a commitment – a real one, although I’m the only witness to it. It has had more meaning, power, and promise than any other I have ever made (except for motherhood). It is simple: “I am here – I’ve got your back.”

…and in those moments when his sleep is disturbed, I whisper that: “I am here – I’m right here,” and I touch his back so he knows I have it. And he goes back to sleep, safe. I believe that he believes it, and I’m glad that he doesn’t know this part of himself – If he ever reads this, I hope that he forgets.

I need his dominance over me – I need his decision-making, take charge, we do things his way, like I need to breathe. But I also need my dominance to make my decisions, which are fewer, to take care of all the little details that are affected by his decisions – and that contribute to the whole.

And I also need him to sleep and trust that I will dominate that part, so he can recharge.

I need to submit but not get lost.

Who am I? I am the extroverted dominant strong submissive introverted fragile woman unicorn who needs this extroverted dominant strong intelligent man (even when his head is in his ass – I still have personality) and the boy inside him (and the one beside him) who need me when the world gets a little rough around the edges and they need a safe place to crash.

This might not end well…but the whole middle part is awesome!

Walk Of *135 Miles

* Results May Vary 🙂

I sat across the table from my “Navajo” Spirit-Guide for the second time as we entered phase 2 in preparation for my spirit-walkabout. We were at Jason’s Deli, where I was eating my leaves, seeds, veggies, and quinoa. He was showing me the Navajo ways of relationships – which I found fascinating considering that those are my ways as well, from a deep intuitive space. He was also teaching me how to walk in the world, on my journey. 

It’s a journey that I’m taking to fully exit the “old” ways and enter my new way of being, engaging and walking on the planet.

There are a few people who are not fans of this, one who is but also isn’t, and a few others who agree with me that I need to do this.

Captain Amazing is the one on the fence – not because he doesn’t believe in me but because when I hatched this plan, he and I were both under such insurmountable stress that I was shedding tears every time a breeze blew by my face, and he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

We were just trying to reach the promised land – of the career growth and life enhancement we both wanted for ourselves and each other but seemed to be blocked by many obstacles. 

And that stress has been enough to end any other friendship/datingship/relationship thing but not ours, although there have been some tears and awkward moments…However, through this experience, we have solidified our faith in our friendship/datingship/relationship thing, even though we are not any closer to defining it or labeling it for the outside world to understand, and even though there was a brief period BCC (Before Career Change) when we were talking about talking about it. 


Captain Amazing reluctantly loaned me his backpack and some gear to head out into the wilderness on my own.

“What’s he going to provide for you,” CA asked, referring to my “Navajo” Spirit Guide.

“Um, we are going to go over what food to bring, and he said I need a water filter,” I replied. I was too tired to think coherently while he was gearing me up. 

He just looked at me like I was an idiot and like he was worried about me and for me. 

The original plan was scattered, I’ll admit, and I was definitely winging it, so I could understand his concern. But I also knew I desperately needed to get outside, get away, find myself, be alone with myself, as if my life depended on it, which was ironic considering I’ve been incredibly lonely. 

Being in solitude and being lonely are two entirely different things. Loneliness occurs when there is no intention of being alone – and it can happen when you’re with people or not.

Oneness is intentional. 


He weighed the pack – 43 pounds. He said, “When we did the Grand Canyon, your pack was about 29.”

“I can handle it,” I said.

Again, he looked at me like I was an idiot and like he was worried about me and for me.

I knew that my Navajo Spirit-Guide was going to unload most of the pack anyway, especially once I got my hands on a water filter. However, I wanted CA to feel like he was “fixing” my problem because he’s a real man – and the realest man I’ve ever had. It is necessary that I honor his role in my life. 

“Don’t you have any girl friends you can do this with?” he asked with caring concern. 

“Nobody I know would do this, and I need to be alone. I’m not trying to be a hero or prove that I can “survive” with just a knife and matchstick out there,” I replied. “I’ll be smart.”


While trying to cure my loneliness, I had joined some Meet-Up groups so I could wander places with people, perhaps meet some people who are just as crazy as I am, so that when Captain Amazing is not available to play with me, like next week, I can still be social. 

I attended a few hikes, and then an invitation crossed my email which read “Tragedy” – UGH! Some members of one of my new hiking groups were struck by lightning in the Grand Canyon. 

The only thing I fear on my walkabout is the weather. 

I still hadn’t solidified a map or plan in my head as to how the whole adventure was going to shake down or what exactly I needed to give myself. 

I knew I needed to walk a lot of miles outside, without music or noise; to exercise beyond what I’ve been able to do in the last year; to sleep and rest; to journal — all to prepare myself mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and physically for my new challenge that starts on July 13th. 

And it is my final week to do it. 

I originally wanted to be out in the wilderness for a full 5 days. But I had too many things to do at home still…

So I modified the dates and my intentions. My spirit journey will begin a few days earlier than originally planned, with a 15-mile walk locally followed by a workout, rest, pool, journaling.

My days will continue in this manner for 6 days, when my Navajo Spirit-Guide will take me to the wilderness and begin the first phase of the ceremony. I will learn to make my own shelter; what plants I need to eat; where I need to go for water, rest, walking, solitude. On the final day, my Navajo Spirit-Guide will return for me and we will complete the ceremony. 

I will have designed my new Mandala – what defines me in my role on the planet and with my tribe and my community. I will have walked approximately 135 miles. 

I will have my perspective and my soul back.


It’s very difficult to end a relationship service business. These are people I have grown to know and care for over many years, many of whom I saw once a week or twice a month…and now I don’t see them. 

There are some I would like to remain seeing but with different roles – not as client/therapist, payer/payee – but as friends. 

My brother and his wife moved – the only family I had here in Arizona besides my kids – my son moved out; Middlest graduated from high school and is moving out next month. That’s a lot of “people” change.

In my attempts to step away from the massage business so I could grow into something bigger and better for my whole self, I encountered other like-minded people who wanted the same. It was exciting! I was willing to put myself out there to create joint ventures with them. But they are gone now too. 

My introspection has led me to this conclusion:
1) I have extraordinarily high expectations when it comes to work.
2) Perhaps I have not been as vested or as patient as I have believed myself to have been when working with others. 

I would love to “blame” the others for disappearing, but when two different ventures within the span of a year just crumble into dust, and the common denominator is ME, then I can only conclude the problem is with ME, not them. 

However, it is not easy saying, “You know, this just isn’t working. I need more help, more support, an equal partner, and I’m just not receiving that.” It’s even more difficult when I’m not even able to say those things because the other person is not available. 

I lead by example wherever I can; however, I’m a really shitty manager. I am wayyyy ok admitting that. I do too much. I have too many ideas and not enough boxes to put them in. I chase shiny objects. 

That’s probably why Happiest Little Boy and I get along so well and why we love each other soooooo much – we have the same attention span!

Nevertheless, I’m the queen, nay Goddess of Adaptation and making bad things work, which is a blessing and a curse, so I will persevere. 

To that end, I entered the arena of finding an established team to work with me, one that will pay me generously for my knowledge, skill set, and talents. And I found it. The inside of the building is as colorful and creative as me. It’s like Disneyland for marketing and software. 

I sat in the lobby waiting for my third interview to start. I watched my future teammates enter the building – Happy – and dressed casually (I don’t have to go shopping to work here!) – and they were happy. They smiled and greeted one another…

I found my work people and environment where I can be myself and be my driven self; hold myself accountable; and honor my competitive nature, my love of learning, teamwork, growth, opportunity, and creativity. 

And they have welcomed me to the team, to their culture.

Even better, my teammates are held accountable by someone else and by something else bigger than me (and NOT by me directly), so I don’t have to worry if someone is going to show up for me. If that person doesn’t, someone else will step in and be there. 

It will be quite a change for me to enter Corporate-Land, but I do believe the structure will cure me of my SOD (Shiny Object Syndrome) because I will create new adventures with and for each client I work with, so I can give away my ideas and yet get paid for them, and I won’t have to put them into boxes for myself. It’s really exciting. 

Day #1 in my new daily environment is July 13th.


I’ll be writing about this adventure and letting go of a lot of shiny objects. If you need a shiny object, I have one for you.