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I have lost my very best friend – She’s been replaced by tears and SPEW.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

 

 

 

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.

blob-eats

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.

miss_you_on__a_rock

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. 🙂

 

Done!

 

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 ❤

 

Dream Managing Part 1

Genie's_Lamp

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…

 

Radical Views Of Relationships

Aka – The Philosophical Evolution of Relationshits to Awesomeships.

I was having lunch with Mr. KC the other day.

So it was a business lunch, but he also asked me, or I may have offered up, my opinion on relationships, which in essence hasn’t changed much since he and I entertained each other. I’m just able to express it more clearly – articulate it effectively – with confidence.

Mr. KC asked: What is the difference between this and any other thing I’ve been in before? How is it that I can be fully self-expressed?

My philosophy takes up more than one post, and I have discussed this before, but I’ll do my best to summarize…

…because Captain Amazing and I have created something awesome, at least I think so. It definitely works for me.

I would love to see a radical change in how and why people enter into these things – I’ve assisted with online dating profiles and set friends up – but there has been something fundamentally missing.

I can lay out the principles and my opinions on relationships, but before undertaking anything, you have to have an intimate relationship with YOURSELF

Furthermore, you should have a mad, wildly passionate love affair with yourself, because you can’t really know what you want or how to ask for it if you don’t know who you are and what you truly love, what you are willing to experiment with, and how you communicate.

That all comes from a higher place – Not from a place of filling an empty hole with a warm body because society tells you that you should be striving for that.

Here is the brief checklist of the basic principles.

  • Friends first.
  • We want to be here.
  • Great sex, experimental, fun.
  • Safe environment to speak freely, no judgment.
  • Exit clause – if it is no longer fun, if it is boring, if there is drama or too much stress, we go back to the first principle (friends)* – Honor the exit as enlightened respectful adults.
  • No crazy, no drama.
  • No complacency, no obligation.

*Note this addendum: To pursue another, there must be life-enhancement – no backsliding.

What I want for me personally – Love, respect, and multiple orgasms – It’s really that simple.

I know who I am and what I want. I am not very interested in what other people think. But I’m asked the question a lot.

The secret to failure is to try to please everyone.

Please note, that I will only speak for myself – I won’t put words into Captain Amazing’s mouth or speak on his behalf.

But I can say that we have discussed all of the following, much of it before we entertained entertaining each other – and sealed it with a kiss, because as you know, if he sucked at kissing, he wasn’t going to be invited to my party.

My time is precious. How I spend my time and with whom I spend that time create the tapestry of my life.

My life is valuable. I want only the highest quality life…small doses of fineness are fine…But I will not settle for complacency.

Let me also say that even though it is not called a “relationship” – It is a very meaningful “thing” to me, and it enhances my life.

It’s not something I’m “in” because I’m bored or I have nothing better to do. I am emotionally, intellectually, and physically stimulated. (My physical stimulation pleases him greatly – so happy about that!!)

It is actually such an awesome “thing” that a word hasn’t yet been invented to describe it’s awesomeness. I’ve studied (well, briefly looked up) other languages to see if other people of the world have figured this out.

Curiously, the Latins (those who speak Latin) defined the terms the way I see them  –

The Latin word for love is amare and friend is amicus or amica – derivatives.

Relationship: affinitas…not so bad.

Marriage: matrimonium (even my kids say that sounds horrible – I know right??!!)

As I describe this “thing” – It has been understood by my audience to be meaningless, nonchalant, extremely casual, and “take-it-or-leave-it.”

Um…no it isn’t – at least not for me. I can honestly say that I am “all in,” whatever that means, whatever that looks like, without a timeline or an agenda.

The greatest hindrance to living is expectancy, which depends upon [tomorrow] and wastes today.

And if it were to end, I would be crushed – not gonna lie.

But I also don’t worry about that at all. That’s like missing somebody who is standing right in front me. I won’t waste my time fretting about something that may or may not happen.

So I’m “all in” regardless – because the alternative is not acceptable. I’m the best version of me because of this indescribable friendship – and I believe that he is worth it.

He is worth my time – I am also worth that time. One secret to success is the SELECTION – and expressing our unique capabilities (like my flexibility and stimulatability – I can make up words).

The “thing” is the byproduct of the time spent – and the quality of that time – on things that actually matter – not the quantity of time just to fill a void.

Another secret to success is selecting the proper boundaries and making adjustments. So the “thing” does not define us – we define it.

I don’t require proof that he exists in day-to-day life. Of course, I enjoy his company and I am very excited to get a note or a call from him, but I am not so insecure that I require him to say daily, “Hey look at me over here,” nor do I expect him to.

Therefore, we do not talk, text, or email every day – We have shit to do, careers, kids, and it’s ok. But when we do  – I appreciate that time and do not take it for granted.

I do not question the space – again I don’t fret over it – Do I expect or want him to put me above all other things in his life? HELL NO!! NEVER – that would be so horrible and dysfunctional. That’s addictive behavior.

I do send him funnies in his email though – mainly because he has a lot of stress and it makes me feel happy to do that – I like to make him laugh.

My intention is not attention. I would send him the funnies anonymously.

I’m not looking for or wanting co-dependency or a caretaker. I don’t need health insurance or a retirement plan to be provided to me by the man I’m spending my precious time with – I can provide those things for myself, thanks.

I respect his opinion and advice on these matters, however.

I don’t want to be somebody’s responsibility – and I don’t want to be responsible for a grown man.

Responsiveness – YES, but not responsibility for.

There is a huge difference – a fundamental shift in awareness – between the two. Even with raising kids, it should be that the responsibility for them as dependents is not permanent. As they grow, actions and behaviors become responsive to others rather than controlled by others.

Is it better to have someone forced to be in your life? Or is it better that he/she chooses to be in your life? 

So the way I see it, this is a higher-level of enlightened thinking and feeling – and it is more of an unconscious “dance.” While I don’t speak on his behalf, I obviously believe that his intentions are likewise…or it wouldn’t work.

Furthermore, it’s actually more powerful and more meaningful than the “run of the mill” relationshits being entertained and striven for these days, and certainly better than marriage, as evidenced by the cavalier manner that marriage or similar is entertained.

To me, marriage is meaningless and NOT the pinnacle of a successful friendship/datingship thing.

“Marriage” or similar is not truly living in the momentRather, it is existing in limbo, fearing that the other person may leave and preventing him/her from doing so, and actually preparing for their departure, while at the same time, shackling a label on the other person and essentially requiring that they do not live a life fulfilled outside of the union.

They form their purposes with a view to the distant future; yet postponement is the greatest waste of life; it deprives them of each day as it comes, it snatches from them the present by promising something hereafter.

I require and possess a trust and respect that most people need a piece of paper and a lawyer to enforce  –

If that future doesn’t come for them, they become disgruntled, take each other to court, feel their investment in that future was wasted – when really, if each moment together was spent in blissful harmony, there would be no reason to look beyond that moment –

There is nothing bigger or better than that present moment.

I know that this is a novel way of thinking because I’m having to explain it.

Can anything be sillier than the point of view of certain people—They keep themselves very busily engaged in order that they may be able to live better … they spend life [getting] ready to live.

,..and I’ve been accused of thinking very little of myself – as if I’m not worthy of marriage. On the contrary, I don’t think marriage is worthy of me.

 

 

quote material above from “On The Shortness of Life” by Lucius Seneca

 

 

From Sexcapades to Sweetcapades

Oh just a little bit sappy ❤

…and brief because sappy is just not my thing… On a scale from 1 to Even, I just can’t! #canteven

It’s important to note though – I’m a bit of a spiritual nomad. I haven’t found the root cause for my lack of roots, or more precisely, my aversion to roots…

However, I have found a tribe, so my struggle to use my wings and yet stay grounded is so very real. #thestruggleisreal

I taught myself to live in the very real, very present moment – at least what I consider real – which may be frosted with naivete and immaturity – but I really don’t care.

So each moment is a special little bubble – I rarely look ahead except in fantasy, not in reality, and certainly not when it comes to other people.

Typically my fantasies include me fighting bad guys or visiting faraway places –

My bucket list fantasy with a man, specifically Captain Amazing, is simply a sleep-all-day-sex-all-day sexcapade, which seems simple enough. It hasn’t happened in my lifetime yet, and I was married once.

…well it may have happened when I was married, but I didn’t appreciate life then, as I do now, so I don’t remember it.

I know now, since my true awakening, that each moment I encounter is absolutely precious – a sweetcapade of the highest order.

I spent another Sunday playing all day – I AM SO GRATEFUL! All kids, all fun, hanging upside down, climbing, headstands, cartwheels, chasing garbage trucks (that didn’t exist), running, spinning, laughing, dog-piling.

GRATEFUL, GRATEFUL, GRATEFUL.

My agenda or my goal or my hope or my dream, whatever you want to call it – Is to have my heart touched in such a way that I never forget how amazing this journey has been, how miraculous each moment truly is – I will always remember how I felt with them in my life.

And now I can add that I hope and dream that I will leave (or have already left) a lasting impression on these hearts too – so no matter what happens tomorrow, a year from now, or 10 years from now – they will always remember how they felt with me in their lives, in these moments.

These moments are brief – they are each a bubble filled with magic and happiness – And each one is so special to me.  And their smiles and curious gazes just fill my entire being with warmth and joy.

They may not remember my name years down the road – I don’t know how long we will get to play together –

But I will treat each day that I get to spend with them as the very special gift it is, knowing that the game might have to be called because of darkness, rain, lightning, thunder, or comfort.

I’m terrified and yet NOT because I’ve already won.

I WIN!!! ❤

Taylor Swift Range Of Emotions

Releasing of trapped emotions

Last night, I had the great pleasure of facing and releasing some trapped feelings – Taking down that heart wall –

These projects have to be successful, and I can only do that if I let go of shit. #letitgo

In collecting all of my writing that I’ve done over the last few years – and sorting through my Taylor Swift range of emotions, I stumbled across this “little gem.”

This is a combination of things – Random Notes Of Past Pain – and I don’t know who I was speaking to in the “Note To Somebody” – But I wrote a great quote!

My Body is a strong ally who protects me in ways that I cannot comprehend – who defends me when I’m not looking – but who is offended when I’m not listening.

Holy crap – I was some kind of sad. 😦

In a Daring Greatly fashion, I’ll just share all of this pain with cyberspace – and sing “Let It Go” – and then go for a run and/or sing while I run – That sounds more fun!

I’m leaving it raw and honest, just as I found it in my journal, with a few quotes from “New Girl” just to lighten it up a bit. I think as we let go of things, there has to be fun and funny, silly, and play – Not as a shield but as replacement.

Laughter is more powerful than sadness – I think we just forget that sometimes.

…and most of this pain is from a lifetime of self-image problems, judgments and violence against me, and the marriage and divorce – that I can tell you will NEVER happen again.

The economy stinks, bees are dying and movies are pretty much all sequels now.

If it resonates with you, I’d love to hear how it does:

~~ Two Years Ago or so

I’m finished fighting with My Body – I’m done – I’ve had enough. I understand that My Body is not the enemy; My Body is a strong ally who protects me in ways that I cannot comprehend – who defends me when I’m not looking – but who is offended when I’m not listening.

So many times in the past, My Mind has not trusted My Body. They are the siblings who are constantly bickering, and My Soul is caught in the middle.

In the drive across the bridge, I cried great heavy sobs… “I can’t live like this anymore.”

My attempts at healing have consisted of a lot of supplements, a lot of self-help and spiritual advice, a lot of exercise, a lot of avoidance, a lot of great conning, lack of follow-through, despair, and helplessness. I have kept myself so busy – no time to stop – because if I stopped, I would see how miserable I was, so sad and lonely and hurt and completely misunderstood.

I am the queen of great cons, after all. I can put on a great show- everyone is happy and having fun. And behind the curtain, I’m being kicked.

I then would burn out- ditch everything and everyone – in a coma of self-loathing and pity – and not wanting anybody to see that side because the only reason anybody ever liked me was because I made everything look easy, because I was fittest, funnest, smartest…I could inspire the masses, at least for a while.

And I didn’t have anything more than a superficial friend who could tell me all the wonderful things he/she thought about me so I could fill my empty tank with something good.

You know, sometimes I feel like I’ve never really felt love.

Because I spent so much of my life with a voice inside my head saying to me that if I’m not perfect, pretty, and popular, then I’m not only “nothing” – I’m less than nothing.

And if the praise drifted away, so did I.

 

–Note To Somebody

…I know, because I’ve been there myself.

I know you have to hit the bottom of the abyss and crawl out yourself. Nobody is going to do it for you.

I did that so many times in the last 5 years.

I have never told you much about the situation I found myself in before I met you and I may or may not- but to summarize, I was repeating history. I knew that the only way to get out was to pick myself up and get out.

Suffice to say, the last time I climbed out of the hell hole, I stayed out.

Why? Because I finally declared in all my agony and anguished heaving sobs that I couldn’t live like that anymore. I couldn’t take one more day of it.

This place is fancy and I don’t know which fork to kill myself with.

It’s a lonely place to be. Nobody knows what I have been through in the last 2 years  – because I hurt people and made mistakes. I own those privately and make my amends.

However, that has meant starting over YET AGAIN- How many times do I have to meet people and make new friends?

On the one hand, I owe you nothing. I really don’t and you know that. I’m also not interested in taking your pain for you or cleaning up any mess you’ve made in your destructive wake. Nor do I want to nurse you back to health.

I’m not sure why I feel compelled to offer you a hand or a shoulder or soup. I’ve always felt that way.

~~On A Lighter Note

So now that THAT’S out in the open – Geez –

Now you have to like my darkside too!

I got your text. When you’re going through a ‘Taylor Swift-like range of emotions,’ I should come over, right?

 

What’s In A Name

Last night, Captain Amazing and I went out for drinks. #whiskeyadventure

We had the best conversation that lasted until today.

When I write something that may hit a nerve with someone I care about, I do discuss it with him/her before it is read – and we talked about The Soapbox, and how I kind of threw him under the bus.

I also gave a few examples about how I think outside the box. I just think there is always more than one right way to do something, and I look for the best way for the people involved, rather than what would be considered “normal” or “status quo.”

Normal is just a setting on the dryer.

I’m working on a rather large project that he, my collaborator, and I are super excited about. I found this piece I wrote which really exemplifies my position on how I parent and how I move through life and the relationships/friendships/datingships (we need a new word!!) I’m in.

This story took place in July 2008. The marriage I was in ended in October 2007… divorce final in March/April 2008 … #math

…my kids were adjusting to the back-and-forth routine of divorce and living in two homes with two families. They were pretty young at the time: 7, 11, and 13.

When they would return to my house, they were so excited, running around like crazies, all three talking at the same time to catch me up on life.

Out of the habit created in the week before, one would go into the kitchen and then yell back at me, “Dad, can I have an apple? I mean ‘Mom.’”

This happened a lot, and I totally understood.

I would get their names mixed up all the time also – and end up naming the child I needed to talk to “whoever you are.”

One day in July 2008, they came home and told me that their dad was going to get married.

Oh joy.

When I asked them how they felt about it, they said they were excited, that they liked her. Then we would talk about them, change the subject to something more palatable for me.

The conversation would eventually return to their other home because they would remember something else that had happened.

These stories and talks were so painful for me at the time…

…so incredibly challenging to listen to because I still had fresh wounds from chewing my leg off. #escapefrommarriage

Occasionally, I would ask if we could talk about something else. I had to master this tactful but necessary question so that I could cope, just a bit, and so they wouldn’t feel like they had done something wrong.

As often as possible, and it’s easier now that they are older, I spend time one-on-one with each kid, especially if we are going to talk about something personal. It’s not Middlest’s business what Youngest has to say.

I consider feelings to be sacred and deeply personal, not something to be tattled to someone else somewhere else, like to dad at his house – like “Do you know that Youngest doesn’t like you?”

Anyway, after receiving the “blessed” news of a new family member, Youngest and I went to run errands (drive errands), which gave me a chance to talk to her one on one.

I drove the Suburban to the gas station, and as I approached the pump, I asked Youngest if she understood what this new marriage meant.

She said, “Oh yes, Mama. She’s really nice.”

I said, “Oh good. And can you talk to her?”

“Yes, we talk a lot,” she replied.

I arrived at the pump, turned the car off, and opened the car door. I turned toward my purse on the passenger’s seat to fetch my debit card, and I looked back at my sweet pumpkin, smiling at me. I smiled at her.

I asked, “Do you know that she’ll be your step-mom?”

I tried not to gag on the words.

She said, “Oh yes, Mama. Sometimes I call her ‘Mom’.”

Well, that did it, instantly. The tears ran down my face. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t expect her answer or my reaction. I felt so crushed. #thestruggleisreal

For a mom, being “replaced” is incredibly devastating.

I hurried to the pump and started the process. I didn’t want her to see me cry. But it was too late.

Then Youngest started crying because I was crying. I opened her door to hug her.

“Oh Mama, what’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” she sobbed. She looked terrified, as if she had stabbed me.

Unfortunately, that’s how I felt.

I tried so hard to swallow it, but I just couldn’t. One of my worst fears was teetering on the edge of reality.

I hugged her so tight, and we cried together.

I said, “I’m so sorry, honey. No, I’m not mad at you. But I am your Mom.”

We were both shaking from the sobs, and she said, “I know Mama. You’ll always be my Mom.”

I heard the “click” of the gas pump when it stopped pumping. I let go of her and said, “We’ll talk about this later. I’m sorry I got upset. I love you.”

I went to the handle at the tank and set it back on the pump. As I was screwing the cap back on the tank, I felt “screwed.”

And then I noticed how angry I was becoming because I had the following scene playing out in my head:

Mr. Ex, The New Woman, my three kids sitting around a table laughing, like they’re one big happy family…and then Youngest going to the refrigerator and calling back to them to ask “Mom can I have an apple?”…and then The New Woman being so flattered and feeling utterly wonderful that this child called her “Mom” that she didn’t correct her.

I thought that was a rather insidious con job to do a child – to just let her accidently call The New Woman “Mom” until it stuck.

That was my thought process anyway. #getagrip #momentsofnarcissism

We drove home, tears drying up. My emotions were a mixed bag of everything –

It’s absolutely exhausting feeling that way.

But when we returned home, I did go for a walk to clear my head.

While I was walking, I thought about our Wii. We had a lot of fun with that game. Sometimes, the most fun was creating the Mii characters – designing them and then naming them based on what they looked like.

We each had our own representation too and our own nicknames. Mine was “Red Hot Mama,” which the kids named me.

And then I remembered when Oldest was born and how his grandmother (Mr. Ex’s mom) declared what this child would call her – Nana – because she felt she was too young to be called “grandma.”

At that time, I thought that it should be the kid who gives the pet nickname to the relative – because they have a hard time pronouncing words – and then we can get a really cute name plus a great story about how “Aunt Christine” became “Beanie.”

As I reflected on those things, I had one of my genius ideas. #lightbulb

I hurried home and sat at the table with all three kids. We talked about what had happened at the gas station. I apologized for becoming upset.

Youngest said, “It’s ok, Mama.”

I said, “Well thank you. But let’s see if we can resolve this issue. I understand that going back and forth is hard and that sometimes you accidentally call me “Dad” just because you’ve been used to that for a week.”

Middlest said, “Yeah, and when we go over there, we call him ‘Mom’ by mistake.”

…hmmm just as I suspected…

I said, “Ok – yes, that’s hard. What is hard for me is that I’m your Mom. But I understand what is happening here.”

Then, I actually quoted Shakespeare:

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

I followed up by asking them, “So if I have a rose and I call it a dog, is it still a rose?”

They laughed and Middlest said, “Duh!”

Philosophy rules!

I said, “So I propose that we make a list of names to call me when you are here – anything. You name me. We’ll go over the lists and vote on what the best name for me is, and that’s what you’ll call me. Then, if you mistakenly call someone else my pet name, I will have every right to be upset.”

They loved my idea. I gave them pencils and paper, and they made their lists.

They chose “Mamacita.”

That little exercise did a few things:
1. We bonded over a rather challenging moment.
2. We got creative.
3. The new name gave them awareness in their speaking and environment, just a little bit.

Ultimately, they mastered the art of transition, and the name “Mamacita” dropped off, although it comes up from time to time.

I’m still “Red Hot Mama” when we play games, because I am still a Red Hot Mama.

The Soapbox

The Soapbox

I have to lay out the back story before I climb up on my soapbox…This is a story about adventure, relationships, and broken hearts.

I hope you like rants – cuz that’s kinda my thing.

soapbox

Part 1: Spunk & Sunshine

Youngest and I graced Captain Amazing with our presence a few nights ago so that I could begin my “Mission Organization” upon his home office and perform my nerd magic on a new computer that he bought many moons ago and hadn’t had time to set up yet.

I am a woman; therefore, I have the genetic capability of multitasking without the damaging side effects of ADD.

Youngest brought her chemistry homework, and Captain Amazing’s full engineering nerd came out – Clearly that’s his passion – To create and build things and be all “sciency.” #nerdgasm #macgyverlives

I don’t remember how the conversation shifted from the periodic table of elements and the formula for density to me and my personality, but the important part is this:

At one point, he asked Youngest if I’m always like this – Upbeat and positive, and “there’s a ray of sunshine – let’s go capture it” – something to that effect – in a light teasing tone.

I could pretend to be more like you and live on a sparkly rainbow and drive a unicorn around and just sing all the time.

To which Youngest did reply: “Yes, she’s always like that.”

I’m not gonna lie – I LOVED THAT!! I don’t care that they were kind of making fun of me – It was just so awesome to know that my kid recognizes and corroborates that I’m genuinely ME – all spunk and sunshine – even in the darkest of times…

…and even though I’m probably the most embarrassing person on the planet.

Part 2: The Playground Adventure

So yesterday morning was so crazy fun! I played so hard AGAIN with the Happiest Little Boy!!

First, he loves to look at my Ipad and see all of my pictures. I taught him how to use the camera, and he took a couple of selfies. These pictures – OMG – SO ADORABLE!! I could just eat him up!!

Note about pictures: I never did “family portraits” because there’s no personality in them. That’s not who people really are. I like to capture people in their genuine moments.

I’m not quite as skilled as my daughters – They snapchat constantly with amazing self-expression, but I’m learning to be fully present and kid-like without feeling self-conscious about what I look like when I’m being a goofball.

Anyway, I was itching to go do a few flips in the backyard, so I asked Captain Amazing if I could take HLB (Happiest Little Boy) outside and play.

It was a school and work day, and I don’t know all the rules of the morning routine. He said, “Yes.”

YASSSSS!!!!! #rocktheslide #monkeybarsforever

playground

So HLB and I went outside to play. WE HAD SO MUCH FUN!!! We slid down the slide, climbed up the slide, hung from the monkeybars, did somersaults, climbed the ladders …

I did a few flips on the “flip upside down bar” because that’s my thing.

Captain Amazing came out to check on us and said, “You’re fricking hilarious.”

I said, “What?? I’m just playing.”

…and then we heard the garbage truck, and HLB wanted to see it.

So I picked him up and he saw it – Ooooo it was so great!! …and we ran around and tried to chase it!

Who needs a gym when you have a toddler to play with??? Just saying!

Captain Amazing came out again, this time dressed and ready for work. He said it was time to come in and eat breakfast.

Awwww Rats!!

 

Part 3: The Food Fight – Standing On My Soapbox

The night previous, we had been rudely interrupted by an irrationally angry phone call about a guest list and a Halloween party.

The phone call was absolutely, without doubt, none of my f*ing business. And it still isn’t.

The details are not important but what is – BOUNDARIES!

Captain Amazing and I have a great analogy about boundaries – one that he taught me- Waffles and Spaghetti.

Men tend to think and behave more like waffles – with little boxes of boundaries within a boundary. Women tend to think and behave with emotional entanglements, the way spaghetti behaves.

The phone call was basically a truckload of spaghetti hurled at him with enormous velocity, such that I could hear the splat of marinara hit him in the face from the other room; the pasty stick of the pasta as it landed all over him, the walls, and the ceiling; and when he returned from the kitchen, he was covered head to toe in spaghetti.

food-fight-online-slot

Well I guess I can’t hide my crazy – Said the chick on the phone.

I felt so bad, and at the same time, I wondered where his boundaries went. I decided that what he really needed to do in that moment was:

1. Not accept the phone call because it wasn’t about his son.

OR

2. Take the phone call but arm himself with a giant waffle shield to deflect all of the spaghetti.

Capt-America waffle

The sad reality of a breakup when you have children is that you are tethered to that other adult forever in some capacity.

BUT, where do you establish boundaries around the relationship between the so-called adults?

When is the life of the ex none of your fucking business anymore because it doesn’t directly involve the kids?

That’s when it becomes tricky – and ultimately horribly sad –

It’s fascinating that I have such strong boundaries when I’m such a warm and loving and joyous person.

I’ve recently learned why – There’s a wall – and I’m taking it down, but I don’t want to end up being spaghetti….so I’m a little scared.

I don’t want to screw up what I have with you. You’re too important to me.

My opinion: When someone awesome enters my kids’ lives, I welcome it. If I have emotional baggage with regard to that – it’s my baggage, not my kids’ and not that awesome person’s.

…and narcissistic fucktardery is not welcome in my life.

I don’t understand why that’s not a universal concept.

Part 4: The Wall That Narcissistic Fucktards Built

That wall has been measured to be 91 miles thick – and it’s around my heart.

I have learned how to own certain emotional discomforts and be more than ok with them – EMBRACE them – so my kids can share their lives with me in passionate detail

– especially that portion of their lives that I’m not a part of –

Passionate detail is the language we speak.

They have a step-mom and they have half-sister. They love their half sister so much …

They share her pictures and what they’ve done with her – She is absolutely adorable. And the kids would love the two of us to meet someday. I would love that too.

That will never happen though –

My funness and free-spiritedness are threats to the unenlightened and to the narcissistic fucktards who think my behavior and my choice in friends is a direct threat to them, and that I choose my friends and my personality to irritate them.

That’s what a narcissistic fucktard does – they all do –

I have finally accepted that I can’t fix stupid.

Nevertheless, it’s kind of a lonely place to be…sitting here with a wall 91 miles thick around my heart.

I was looking at the calendar yesterday to schedule a launch party for something I’m involved in – There was Youngest’s birthday and my birthday, and I saw HLB’s birthday.

I thought to myself, “Oh I should keep that day open, so we can have a birthday party.”

…and then a few minutes later, I remembered the narcisstic fucktarderific spaghetti-laden phone call about a Halloween gathering and who was attending it –

I will not be invited or welcomed.

Puppy…In…A…Cup

…and that made me cry.

FUUUUUCCCCKKKKK 😦

I hate doors!

I’m always the one who loves more – even with boundaries – that’s my thing.

Basically I have two choices:

1. Choose to end up alone – be a single old lady flashing people on the street.

OR

2. Be creative – Throw a party for all of us on a different day, move through my discomfort, and change the world.

I’m picking option #2.

 

Quotes above are from New Girl.

The Fangirl

This last week week – From Saturday to Saturday – was highlighted by Celebrities, Events, Conspiracies, Alliances, And of course Sex (not in the traditional sense – although is there anything traditional about my sex???)…

Part 1: My Evening With Ira Glass

Saturday, October 11

I’m not sure how Ira will respond to being a featured guest on my blog – but he inspired me so much when I met him. #npr #serial #thisamericanlife #nerdalert

TRUTH: Before I met him, I didn’t know who he was – had never heard of him.

My friend texted me and said she wanted to ask me on a date. WOO HOO! I love dates! And she is a connoisseur of theater, and I welcome invitations to culture because I love culture. #truestory

So I said “yes” before I knew what it was that we were doing.

I was also invited to Brown Sugar’s “Fusion Supper Club” party that night. I texted him to ask how long the party was going to last.

He said, “As late as you want 🙂 “

Mmmm…ding dong…. I like that answer.  – I’ll do both events!

My date picked me up and off we went to spend an evening with a radio show celebrity.

The first man we met was the marketing guru for KJZZ, the local affiliate for NPR. Wow, talk about brown sugar! That man was gorgeous.

I wasn’t sure if that was who we were supposed to meet, but I enjoyed meeting him! And OH what a voice!!!! No wonder he is on radio.

KJZZ had a divine spread of gourmet appetizers out, so I selected a few vegetables (roasted red pepper from heaven) – and we found a vantage point on this private balcony overlooking the beautiful lights of the Mesa Center For Performing Arts.

mesa arts

A lady walked over to us and asked if we had met Ira yet. Nope –

She walked us over and there he was. I asked my friend if we were supposed to be fangirling. She wasn’t sure.

But the gal in front of us was – I thought she was going to swoon!

We approached Ira and stood next to him – He had a fine lady on both sides – An Ira sandwich!

He introduced himself to me, and we shook hands. I then introduced him to my friend – She was, after all, my date and the one who knew who he was!

We chatted for a while and had many photos taken, which I have been unable to hunt down.

TRUTH: He has the softest hands.

We were escorted to our choice seats near the front row of the stage.

The show was great! Now I know why he has been on the air for 17 years.

The stories hit me in such a way that I felt like my life would never be the same -The whole evening clicked and I had a glimpse of the awesomeness that lay ahead of me.

What was it about this man – One radio host and two dancers that spoke to me?

I think it was the construction of the show and the stories.

And in my post meet-and-greet stalking researching, I found the extremely recent clip from when he was on Jimmy Fallon #jimmyfallonfangirl  #ilovejimmyfallon

And they talked about his tweet that Shakespeare sucks…I had actually seen that tweet during my stalking researching.

I became a fan. #nerdfangirl

I won’t listen on regular radio, like in the car, because that’s not my thing – but a podcast is.

That led to the discovery of The Moth. My friend said that if I ever get on The Moth, she will travel to wherever I am telling my story and listen, even though she reads my blog and talks to me every week.

The butterfly is my spirit animal – Just saying –

Hmmmm….LIGHT BULB…maybe I’ll speak my stories, not just write them down….

Alas, I was fangirling so hard that I didn’t make it to Brown Sugar’s Fusion Supper Club – I asked him how I could make it up to him.

He said, “You’re creative. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Part 2: Conspiracies And Collaborations

Subsection A: Conspiracy Theory

So Mr. Julie McCoy is running in the NY Marathon November 2nd. I love to see my friends strive for achievements, especially when they are big bucket list deals. #goforit

Do or do not. There is no try.

He then sent me a “coupon” to register for the Phoenix Marathon on February 28, 2015, and volunteered himself to be my running coach. #shit

I’ve been on the fence about running a full. I’ve done 2 halves (that makes a full, right??) #math

Plus I’ve walked 60 miles 3 times…

I’m not gonna lie – I have been searching for a bit of spark to light my workout fire.

I do have vanity goals right now. However, vanity is not an event.

It’s not something I can high-five myself when I cross the finish line of “DAMN I LOOK HOT!”

The popular fitness culture has conspired against that opinion – with lots of “challenges” and “contests” and before-and-after pictures.

Let me just make this emphatic observation: Dieting is NOT a sport – It is not a test of wills – It is not something that you should win a prize for. It’s also not fun.

Sex IS a sport (read on). And I believe Captain Amazing has ordered my trophy for First-Place in my division – The Unicorn Division.

Sure, hitting that vanity goal CAN lead to sex – but it doesn’t sustain it.

Don’t get me wrong – the ultimate vanity carrot being dangled in front of me is the fact that I committed to dressing undressing as Mystique for Marvel Universe on March 7, 2015.

I envisioned my two choices at being Mystique: Average or Champion.

I choose Champion.

“Maybe I just need a running coach,” I thought. “…and I can just train myself.”

I’ve been wanting to hire a personal trainer (read on). But it’s hard to find someone who treats working out as fun – but who also doesn’t stand around and talk.

I don’t want to talk. I want to sweat and get my ass kicked.

I read the promo again for the marathon – looked at the calendar – remembered what I did to take my body-fat down to 16%.

I entered my information and clicked SUBMIT.

FFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKK!!!!! #wtf

What have I gotten myself into???

So THAT happened!

Subsection B: Retraction and Collaboration

Friday October 10

I had a conversation with Captain Amazing while I was driving him to the airport  – (holy shit – THAT happened) –

He is surrounded by some co-dependency that is none of my business but I did feel compelled to explain how I would NOT ask an ex for help.

He said, “So let’s say you get bored with me and we are not together anymore…You wouldn’t ask me for help?”

I said, “First, I can’t imagine being bored with you. Second, you and I are friends for life, so it’s kind of different. And third – No, I wouldn’t.”

It’s a condition I have – Extreme pride and independence –

Monday October 13

For the third October in a row, Mr. KC, a man whom I met and dated 2 years ago, returned to my life. He actually stayed in touch a lot more this year – Yay –

This time, however, he asked me for “help.”

Not for money or to borrow a car or for a place to live –

(if anyone were to ask me for those things, I’d help make a kick-ass sign and find the most marketable street corner for them to work -)

Rather – He asked for my creative expertise and in return, I would receive compensation. Fair enough.

Also he put an idea on the table about a collaboration, which would be inspirational to the world and extremely profitable for us, the way both of us envision it.

He asked me then what I would need – and I outlined the work I have done in building my empire –  in great detail – and highlighted a few of the missing pieces.

I then asked for his help –

Irony: A situation that is strange or funny because things happen in a way that seems to be the opposite of what you expected.

Let me just point out, he’s not technically an ex. We only dated for 4 months, so it doesn’t really count. And we have remained friends long after the sex ended.

I’m not even sure that we technically dated, but I don’t know what else to call it. I have trouble with labels.

I’ve written our story down – it’s good enough to be a movie –

I have to say that whatever it was, let’s call it “dating” – Dating him was like dating Brad Pitt – He’s somewhat of a celebrity and I was a total fangirl when I was with him. #fangirling #itsathing

At any rate, I must retract my earlier generalization about help from an ex – and further define that I will not ask for codependent help, like money or a car or a place to live.

I will not have codependency within a relationship and I certainly will not have it after.

 

Subsection C: Forging An Alliance

Thursday October 16

Somewhat in passing, Mr. Julie McCoy passed a website to me. He said, “You might like these guys.”

He then added that he needed my creativity with some of the nerd questions in the interview.

TRUTH: Second man this week who requested my creativity. BAM! That’s success RIGHT THERE!!!

I read the questions first – because doing things backwards is one of my special talents – and then clicked on the website link.

The choir of angels sang when I saw Dumbbells And DragonsMy people – More members to add to my tribe.

My fangirl state escalated quickly, from just checking you out, to full “I need you now!” 

I don’t want to date these guys, so I can be as crazy as all anything. – Hot Crazy Matrix be damned – #girlsarecrazy #fangirlalert

fangirl

I followed them on Twitter and then sent them a note on their page. Ken tweeted me back and then requested I send him an email so we could chat in more than 140 characters.

…and it all went downhill soaring from there…

The fangirl inside me told story after story, puns, nerd tales, and how much I needed to be part of their empire…and asked them what they needed to become HUGE, in a non-Viagra way.

..and I sent them here – To read about our Grand Canyon adventure – To read about sex and the zombie apocalypse #itsathing –

I told them I would love to be a regular recurring guest on their show – and they concur! Ken said he would have me on a bunch!

YESSSSSSSSS!!!

My answers to the interview questions are LEGEN – wait for it – DARY!

I have scripted a recurring performance. I’m so excited ❤

I think the ULTIMATE FANGIRL STATE is to be a fangirl of yourself.

 

Part 3: My Fangirls, Sex & My Personal Trainer

One of my female clients returned from her summer someplace cooler than hell, and she looked at me and said, “My God, you look amazing. How do you do it? Seriously, what are you doing?”

To which I replied, “Lots of really amazing sex!!”

She said, “Oh, that’s what I’m doing wrong.”

We both laughed, and I said, “I’m so sorry. Seriously, from the bottom of my heart, I am truly sorry.”

She said, “Me too.” And we laughed again!!

That conversation has been retold at parties – because one of her male friends, another client of mine – said I have become a legend and the envy of all the women in their community.

YOWZA – I have my own fangirls!!!

Another client returned for her appointment with me – She and her friends started a “blog club” – Like a book club, except they are reading my blog – Out loud – to each other.

#fangirls

I love it – These women in their 60s – saying “cock” out loud. It warms my heart!

…and now the pressure is really on – Committed to dressing undressing as Mystique, running a marathon, AND competing in my favorite sport to earn that trophy Captain Amazing is designing for me…

As I stated above, I have been wanting to hire a personal trainer.

…and then  my friend, Ms. Spa, sent me an intriguing email.

…about a pleasure personal trainer

#fangirl

Since I waste no time stalking researching people and things that I am passionate about – I checked it out and was in fangirl sex heaven – The choir of angels sang to me AGAIN!

I immediately contacted LELO and showed them my blog –

I have been ACCEPTED to represent and inspire women (couples) to take their sex to the next level!! Another collaboration this week –

I also “hired” my pleasure personal trainer – to make sure that I am at the top of my sport – the sport of champions –

I’ve named her Lola (she was a show girl) – and she treats working out as fun but also doesn’t stand around and talk. I sweat and get my ass kicked!

That trophy will be mine!!!

I’m also fangirling this toy >> LELO IDA << The diagrams – Oh Captain Amazing – my birthday is coming up!! ❤

Sunday October 19

A new week begins…Captain Amazing has returned from his vacation – Watch for the next epic story…I know, you’re on the edge of your seat…and probably a little nervous.

I have to go run 8 miles…

The Hangover

hangover

Tuesday

So Monday was rather suckish….for reasons that made me say “Holy Shit – what was that??!! What the fuck did I do???”

I was so hungover yesterday, and I hadn’t had anything to drink – and sadly, I had had no sex.

Yet, I felt that overwhelming need to apologize for having way too much fun, like I went on a drinking and sex bender –

–one of those one-night stands that you crawl home the next day, and a memory flashes before your eyes, requiring you to hold your head and scream out in pain, and you just want to die —

“OMG, what did I do to myself???”

I have discovered in recent years that I can develop a hangover from a variety of activities (living the “high” life) where drinking alcohol is not involved, like having great sex.

It had been a rare occurrence that I first experienced in November 2012, and it happened maybe 2 or 3 times with that guy.

It didn’t happen again until my adventures with Captain Amazing.

And since it’s happening fairly regularly, it’s quite…um…crazy…With physical cravings, shaking hands, dizziness, sweating, cloudy thinking, inability to walk…

What I learned this weekend – I can actually have kid hangover. #wtf

During the last 7 years of my post-marriage kid adventure, I did notice that I would be “sad” after a weekend with the kids – and at the same time, relieved because I could actually clean my dwelling and have some quiet time – I mean quiet – QUIET – QUIET!

My kids have only met 3 guys I have dated, one was fun and had 3 kids who were my kids’ ages (that was just a summer of fun and not a relationship) …

… and the other 2 were both total disasters – Those guys were not fun and were actually jealous of my relationships/friendships between my kids and me. So obviously NEXT – 

So now, my kids are older, and the 4 of us have a rather rigorous screening process when it comes to anyone hanging out with all of us.

He has to be somewhat nerdy, have an absolute love/obsession with superheroes and Marvel movies, and allow a lot of playing, sitting on the floor, being stupid, joking, speaking in a way that the so-called “normal” people would find offensive…

…OK, so check to all of the criteria above so far…

That’s not the issue – I am soooo over worrying about any guy who would be pissy with me spending quality time with my kids and question the manner in which I spend that time….

…so if we are all watching a movie, and my 13-year-old wants to sit on my lap on the floor, she is going to – no questions, no discussing this – It’s non-negotiable.

None of this was questioned – no pissiness – It was absolute BLISS!

So far, so good – Captain Amazing can hang with us.

However, with the exception of the one guy above, I have never dated someone with kids who were still kids…or whom I met…

~~~

Yep, I love my kids. They are awesome. They quote pop culture until it becomes the fabric of their language and then they produce spin-offs. All teens probably do it, but mine are very skilled. Except they sometimes cite the original source – and it ruins the moment. #ruiner

However, I don’t love ALL kids – For the same reasons above, not all can hang with us. A few can and do, and those that do – they are awesome.

The ones that don’t and can’t – well they haven’t been parented the way I parent or they lack the open-mindedness or thick skin or funness required of being a member of our tribe – and in either scenario, I can leave those kids.

And I have never, in my entire life, looked forward to spending time with kids other than my own and perhaps 1 or 2 of their friends (but not their friends by themselves)…

…until now…and I don’t know what to do.

~~

RELEVANT FUN FACTS ABOUT ME

Fact #1

I have unique boundaries. #duh

So there was a quasi-serious conversation that took place last Friday morning in bed, one in which I was instructed to not get “too attached.”

This is it – I have no hidden agenda – This is it! (I’m making a circle motion above myself)

There is no issue, since I am the queen goddess of commitment-phobia, although I’m not a love addict or love avoidant, and I’m definitely not a co-dependent.

However, I have been a love addict once in my life and definitely a love avoidant for the majority of my life, and I’m not afraid to admit that.

I do not want any man (or other adult) to be dependent upon me, nor do I want to ever be dependent on any man – EVER – for the rest of my life.

I do not want to be responsible for any man, and I don’t want any man to be responsible for me.

Fact #2

I love fun –

Fact #3

I am ALL IN.  

I live for moments – all kinds – I get sucked in and single-focused. I give each moment at least 100% of what I have to give in that moment.

Sometimes I’m tired, so my 100% is not as strong as other days, but I’m THERE – I’m ALL IN.

Fact #4

I follow directions, unless I’m rebelling or running away…Or I forget. #whatmemory

~

Sunday – Shiz Got Real

I invited one of his sons to walk my friend’s 5 dogs with Youngest and me. He said it sounded good and asked if he and his other son could join.

YES! Super fun!!

…It started at the park – and I asked Youngest to hold the leash of my assigned dog – and that was it. I was climbing the rock wall, taking the 2-year-old over the suspension bridge and onto the twisty slide…I swung on the monkey bars…

…and then it transitioned to football…and where I lost all sense of my senses…I played so hard that I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing…I lost track of time…

…I wrestled a 2-year-old – We ate Otterpops, played catch, colored on the chalkboard, raced cars, played HedBanz Game (BTW, I drew the unicorn card!!) and Legos, dive-bombed beanbag chairs, played in the backyard, and watched Captain America: The Winter Soldier .

…it went on all night…

The details are blurry – but it was the worst best binge – a playing spree – unrestrained indulgence…

I was ALL IN – 500% – until I was spent.

I paid for it yesterday. I thought I had nothing left in the tank – I was wrong – I was full of tears and regret…

regret

I spent my Monday incredibly hungover, crying, practicing the apology I felt I needed to make for having had way too much fun….and for the thing I don’t want to admit out loud to anyone EVER – #denial

Those were the boys I was looking for – and that is avoidance. #boycrazy

I can’t even write the real words down – I am the biggest idiot that ever lived! 

WTF did I do???!!

Do I miss my kids that much??? #struggleisreal

I guess I do. I hate to admit that. The saddest part is that I’ve had to spend the last 7 years with a leash around my heart because it hurts a lot when they leave…

…and I guess I’ve gotten used to it…that helpless emptiness…That having to be an adult because my kids aren’t around…

WTF did I do???!!

I have never experienced anything like this before. #shizgotreal

And I don’t even know how to apologize for feeling so shitty – I feel like I crushed the world, when all I did was crush myself.

I don’t even know if “shitty” is the right word – Maybe it’s growth?? Hurts so good?? Fear???

I laugh in the face of fear – HA HA HA!!!

How do I apologize when I am facing demons from my past – not even demons really – I think I actually slipped into a life I don’t have anymore, like I was in a hologram.

Wait a minute -I shouldn’t have to apologize for having fun and for being myself – even if it was 500% of myself – and showering kids with love and laughter and playing –

All kids deserve that, even the ones who don’t fit into my tribe. I deserve that too.

SO NOT SORRY! Here are 7 things we women should never be sorry about.

The best hangover remedy is more of what made you hungover in the first place! So let me just order up more play time – in all the ways I love to play 😉

Here are the 5 most common regrets that people have on their deathbed:

1.   I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
2.   I wish I didn’t work so hard.
3.   I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
4.   I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
5.   I wish that I had let myself be happier.

I don’t see anywhere on that list:
“I wish I had less sex” or
“I wish I hadn’t played so hard with great kids.”

So I might be ok after all…I just wish this hangover would end so I can get on with my life!!

Oh, and none of those will be my regrets on my deathbed. 

regret 2