I'm going to squish the last couple of months into one writing with some highlights and then look forward to some new stories and enlightenment for the coming year. Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed what I've experienced over the past couple of years, but I'll be straight with you, I'm slap wore out and tired of vagabond-ing. I'm ready to settle in to a life. There, I've said it.
Mujeres - My Mom and I took a trip to an island off of the Mexican coast called Isla Mujeres, Island of Women. Probably the best laugh we had was when we were shown to our room and there were 2 swans made of towels on the bed that appeared to be kissing and, get this, rose petals scattered over them and the bed. Now I knew this place probably catered to love bugs when I booked it and they told me there were no rooms with double beds, but COME ON - rose petals? Pre-coitus birds? Talk about rubbing the salt in the wound of a single gal. Then to add some jig to the jag, we went to get the massage that was included in the hotel package, and when I told them I really preferred NOT to have a couples massage with my MOTHER and requested a separate room, they told me there would be an extra charge. I think I said something to the tune of, "Come on, Mom. Let's go get rubbed down." We laughed a LOT on this trip and I will cherish the memory forever.
Muchachos - Unfortunately, I have no steamy stories of new hunks as I remain hunk-less. Actually, I've come to realize I've been too busy and preoccupied to even consider a new hunk until as of late. So this is about my Dad. I know "muchacho" means a young man in Spanish, but I don't know the word for older dude, so this will have to suffice. Let me preface this story with some info - my Dad is legally blind and can't hear a damn thing without his hearing aids. Poor man was dealt with some shitty cards, but he still golfs (and as I understand it, hit a hole-in-one the other day; I wasn't there to witness the feat, but I guess I'll have to go on faith), tools around on his golf cart and keeps up a great lawn. Nothing keeps him back. Anyway, his task while Mom and I were in Mexico was to dog sit the pipsqueaks. No big deal to those of us that can see and hear, right? Add into the equation that Wiley, my rescue pipsqueak, is slightly neurotic and considers everyone a stranger until he deems you otherwise. So getting him on his leash to go outside to do business was going to be a challenge for my Dad. But by God, they made it happen and had no issues. Guinness, however, the one we had no worry about, decided she was going to hide one day and my Dad spent an afternoon in panic thinking she had been carried off of the deck by a hawk. After asking Wiley where she was and getting no reply, he spent the rest of his afternoon with a flashlight looking under beds and finally found her nestled into a corner. She can be a real bitch sometimes. When we returned from our sunning and funning, Dad and dogs were fine. His dog sitting days are probably over, however.
Moving - It just sucks. I don't give a rat's ass if you hire movers or not, it is exponentially more painful than having a pap smear, mammogram and Brazilian wax combined. Times 2. And that's all I have to say about that subject.
Merriment - Here we are on Christmas and I am by myself due to getting sick. Thank LBJ (think The Hangover, not politics) for antibiotics and I'm on the mend, but I still missed out on seeing dear friends, my brother & family and what is always some of the most amazing time I ever have the pleasure of spending. I don't believe I've ever spent a Christmas Eve totally alone, but I did it yesterday and I'm still cruising this world, so I know it's do-able. (The pipsqueaks might be offended as they were my company, so don't tell them I wrote that.) But today, I've been invited to the Gaybors for a cookout on the new grill they bought one another and my beautiful daughter is coming over to eat leftovers with me, so all is definitely not lost. I refused to allow Christmas Eve to be a complete bust, so I baked a stuffed turkey, cooked green bean casserole and homemade gravy (there is NOTHING better than comfort food when you're sick or sad, or both). I listened to the music of the season, watched movies and allowed, once again, the combined 25 lbs. of dog that live here to take over the couch.
Is my life exactly full of all of the magic and fulfillment I desire? Honestly, no. But is what exists in the experiences and the people I am blessed to have filling it NOW enough to keep me hopeful and smiling? No doubt about it, yes. This is a Doing What I Know. Merry Christmas!
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Ships, Soap and Sunshine
Recently, I read a quote that was Shared on Facebook that disturbed me. The skinny of it was that too many people bail out of relationships - be they marriages, family or friends - when the person with whom we are in said relationship shows their true colors during their time of dire need, desperation and despair. And that we should "serve" and "be" with someone "in spite of their filthy heart." It then goes on to speak of Love being patient, kind and deliberate, sacrificial and so on. Then mentioned is recognizing the "darkness" in another person and not following your impulse to "jump ship". Okay, really?
Now I realize that this author's meaning and how he or she believes and relates to what they wrote is very personal and can be construed in many ways by different people. I get that. How we absorb and translate every writing is personal. For instance, I translate a "filthy heart" and "darkness" as attributes of a person I want nowhere near me. If I discover that an individual chooses not to and/or is incapable of putting some soap and water to their heart and chooses to stay in the dark and not find some sunlight, you're damn straight I'm jumping ship. That's like choosing to remain on a scurvy-invested vessel instead of hopping on a lifeboat and paddling away. No matter how difficult. We can only lend someone a bar of soap and a bucket of water so many times. We can lead another person to a patch of sun, but we cannot make them bathe in its light. We can try and teach our family member/friend/lover/spouse/fill-in-the-blank how to scrub and seek out the warm, sunny spots, but we cannot force them to believe they can do it on their own. I find it challenging enough to do this for myself every day.
The years have delivered me knowledge and realization, with much more to come, of course. What I do know is surrounding oneself with as much fabulous as you can muster and eliminating that which makes one feel non-fabulous as much as possible has had a tremendous impact within me and my outlook as it comes to this life. Have I jumped ship prematurely in the past? I'm sure I have. Will I do it in the future? I sure hope not. Has someone(s) chosen to haul off the Ship Laura? You betcha. But I'll tell you one thing, I'll fight a helluva battle before surrendering. This is a Doing What I Know.
Now I realize that this author's meaning and how he or she believes and relates to what they wrote is very personal and can be construed in many ways by different people. I get that. How we absorb and translate every writing is personal. For instance, I translate a "filthy heart" and "darkness" as attributes of a person I want nowhere near me. If I discover that an individual chooses not to and/or is incapable of putting some soap and water to their heart and chooses to stay in the dark and not find some sunlight, you're damn straight I'm jumping ship. That's like choosing to remain on a scurvy-invested vessel instead of hopping on a lifeboat and paddling away. No matter how difficult. We can only lend someone a bar of soap and a bucket of water so many times. We can lead another person to a patch of sun, but we cannot make them bathe in its light. We can try and teach our family member/friend/lover/spouse/fill-in-the-blank how to scrub and seek out the warm, sunny spots, but we cannot force them to believe they can do it on their own. I find it challenging enough to do this for myself every day.
The years have delivered me knowledge and realization, with much more to come, of course. What I do know is surrounding oneself with as much fabulous as you can muster and eliminating that which makes one feel non-fabulous as much as possible has had a tremendous impact within me and my outlook as it comes to this life. Have I jumped ship prematurely in the past? I'm sure I have. Will I do it in the future? I sure hope not. Has someone(s) chosen to haul off the Ship Laura? You betcha. But I'll tell you one thing, I'll fight a helluva battle before surrendering. This is a Doing What I Know.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
The Wonder Woman Syndrome
I have made great friends with my daughter's Gay-bors. They are a fantastic couple with whom I plan on being friends forever and ever, Amen. They have nicknamed me "Wonder Woman" - one reason being that they think I look like Lynda Carter. The other, because I was beckoned to help Steve move a 175-pound (probably exaggerated, but what the hell) cement pineapple a few weeks ago. Steve has recently gone through back surgery and in addition to this, is a perfectionist and couldn't stand his pineapple being in the wrong place on the front walk, so he caught me coming in from a run and asked me to move it to its correct location. So in my sweaty state dressed in running attire, he said, and I quote, "Wonder Woman, you not only LOOK like her, you are also built like a brick-shit-house!" I'm still not quite sure how to take that, but I suppose I'll lean toward a compliment.
Then yesterday after dropping my vehicle off for a check-up, I decided to walk around instead of sitting in the smelly garage waiting for my car. As I was traipsing down a busy road, I noticed a bicycler coming my way and moved to the inside of the sidewalk, thinking I was following rules and being polite. As he continued toward me, he started to aggressively wave me over to the OUTSIDE of the sidewalk right next to the oncoming cars. I'm sorry, but what the HELL? In order to avoid being cremated by a car, I simply stepped further to the inside and onto the grass to completely avoid him. As this lug-head passed me, he asked, and I quote "What the 'F' is wrong with you????" (To note, he actually used the full usage for 'F'.) After I dropped my chin off of the sidewalk and popped my eyeballs back into their sockets, I started to contemplate: did this lug-head see me as Wonder Woman and believe that I had the powers to move over and risk being forced into oncoming traffic, but be capable of reflecting the cars unharmed? I certainly didn't have on my gold cuff bracelets that afternoon, but maybe he sensed it. MAYBE he was Superman and he just figured I would see this with my superpowers and intrinsically know that he was on his way to rescue a baby and its mother from the train tracks that were over to the left. Probably, he's just an everyday lug-head with no manners and a strong case of the pissed-offs. I'll go with that one.
My stream of thought continued throughout the day and night - do I emit the Wonder Woman vibes so much that people don't realize that I do have a vulnerable side as well? Is one of the reasons I remain hunk-less because men are afraid of the superpowers that exist in my gold bangle bracelets and that if they tick me off, I will clash them together and throw laser beams into their eyes and burn their retinas or another important part of their body?
All of the women in my life have Wonder Woman-esque qualities - we love, live, defend, protect and leap high buildings. We move cement pineapples. But do we show our vulnerability enough to really be known? Do we give Wonder Woman a chance to sit on the bench and take a break from the game and watch from the sidelines? And maybe get a mani/pedi while we're sitting there. I've found a tremendous amount of balance in my life as of late in many silos of life, but I'm beginning to think that this is not one of them. I'm going to find some Wonder Woman episodes to discover how Lynda aka Diana Prince dealt with the whole situation. I mean, she had Steve Trevor as her hunk - what were her secrets? When did she give her vulnerability a chance to shine?
This is a Not Knowing What the Hell I'm Doing. But I'm gonna figure the damn thing out.
Then yesterday after dropping my vehicle off for a check-up, I decided to walk around instead of sitting in the smelly garage waiting for my car. As I was traipsing down a busy road, I noticed a bicycler coming my way and moved to the inside of the sidewalk, thinking I was following rules and being polite. As he continued toward me, he started to aggressively wave me over to the OUTSIDE of the sidewalk right next to the oncoming cars. I'm sorry, but what the HELL? In order to avoid being cremated by a car, I simply stepped further to the inside and onto the grass to completely avoid him. As this lug-head passed me, he asked, and I quote "What the 'F' is wrong with you????" (To note, he actually used the full usage for 'F'.) After I dropped my chin off of the sidewalk and popped my eyeballs back into their sockets, I started to contemplate: did this lug-head see me as Wonder Woman and believe that I had the powers to move over and risk being forced into oncoming traffic, but be capable of reflecting the cars unharmed? I certainly didn't have on my gold cuff bracelets that afternoon, but maybe he sensed it. MAYBE he was Superman and he just figured I would see this with my superpowers and intrinsically know that he was on his way to rescue a baby and its mother from the train tracks that were over to the left. Probably, he's just an everyday lug-head with no manners and a strong case of the pissed-offs. I'll go with that one.
My stream of thought continued throughout the day and night - do I emit the Wonder Woman vibes so much that people don't realize that I do have a vulnerable side as well? Is one of the reasons I remain hunk-less because men are afraid of the superpowers that exist in my gold bangle bracelets and that if they tick me off, I will clash them together and throw laser beams into their eyes and burn their retinas or another important part of their body?
All of the women in my life have Wonder Woman-esque qualities - we love, live, defend, protect and leap high buildings. We move cement pineapples. But do we show our vulnerability enough to really be known? Do we give Wonder Woman a chance to sit on the bench and take a break from the game and watch from the sidelines? And maybe get a mani/pedi while we're sitting there. I've found a tremendous amount of balance in my life as of late in many silos of life, but I'm beginning to think that this is not one of them. I'm going to find some Wonder Woman episodes to discover how Lynda aka Diana Prince dealt with the whole situation. I mean, she had Steve Trevor as her hunk - what were her secrets? When did she give her vulnerability a chance to shine?
This is a Not Knowing What the Hell I'm Doing. But I'm gonna figure the damn thing out.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Finders Keepers
Most of us have had that dream. You know the one. Okay, pervs, minds out the muck! The one in which you are back in time and in a situation and you're now older (and hopefully) wiser and everyone else is still at the same stage of life in the past. And you say with your dream voice "Holy crap, I know how to handle this/what to do/what not to do/fill-in-the-blank! I know what is right/what will make me a better person/what will not tarnish me/fill-in-the-blank!" And you do it and it makes you soar. I always end up flying in those dreams, but hey, that's just me. So as I round out my journey out West, I thought of this recurring dream. And it makes me soar.
Here, I have experienced beauty and adventure. Solitude and friendship. Discovery and learning. I had the opportunity to step away from a somewhat chaotic (albeit great) life and was able to become centered. It felt as if I was one of those magnet paperclip gadgets and all my paperclips were strewn around and I couldn't seem to attract them to the place they were supposed to be. But then the magnet was replaced with a new one. And those paperclips couldn't help but be attracted to the re-magnetized gadget. And they moved to the center. I became centered.
So now, I head back to a place I've been before, both geographically and figuratively. And I've missed both terribly - the region, my daughter, beloved dogs and the proximity of family and friends. I go back as a very different person. Not just from the latest adventure out West, but from a long progression of realizations and changes that have been occurring for some years. Change is inevitable and sometimes a couple of the paperclips will escape, but let me tell you something, honey... my magnet is strong. And I have become older and wiser - I have forgiven myself for the fill-in-the blanks - so the aforementioned dream is now a reality for me. With strength and the occasional snippet of solitude, comes serenity. I found it and I'm keeping it.
This is a Doing What I Know.
Here, I have experienced beauty and adventure. Solitude and friendship. Discovery and learning. I had the opportunity to step away from a somewhat chaotic (albeit great) life and was able to become centered. It felt as if I was one of those magnet paperclip gadgets and all my paperclips were strewn around and I couldn't seem to attract them to the place they were supposed to be. But then the magnet was replaced with a new one. And those paperclips couldn't help but be attracted to the re-magnetized gadget. And they moved to the center. I became centered.
So now, I head back to a place I've been before, both geographically and figuratively. And I've missed both terribly - the region, my daughter, beloved dogs and the proximity of family and friends. I go back as a very different person. Not just from the latest adventure out West, but from a long progression of realizations and changes that have been occurring for some years. Change is inevitable and sometimes a couple of the paperclips will escape, but let me tell you something, honey... my magnet is strong. And I have become older and wiser - I have forgiven myself for the fill-in-the blanks - so the aforementioned dream is now a reality for me. With strength and the occasional snippet of solitude, comes serenity. I found it and I'm keeping it.
This is a Doing What I Know.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Oh (Boy,) Canada...
My latest excursion was to Canada. The purpose for the trip was multi-faceted, and of course, one of those facets was adventure. And what an adventure it was. Let's just put it this way - I'm pretty sure I've been red-listed in that country. On my way in, I was sent to some thing they call the "Secondary Screening" place after being interrogated by an extremely bitchy woman at the customs desk. Now, I know I can be a smart ass - I've known this for years and my Mom would probably say it started around Kindergarten. But generally speaking, I turn to smart ass tactics only when provoked by someone who is exemplifying behavior of the like, stupidity, or just downright meanness. I don't just take it off the shelf for the sake of shits & giggles - there is a reason behind it. So this woman starts firing at me with stupid (see, there you go, she asked for it) questions and I answered with smart (ass) retorts. Let me tell you folks, don't do that in Canada - they're snake-venom mean. I'm not sure if this woman didn't like my face or found my perfume offensive or what, but that bitch was on a Not Gonna Let Laura In Mission. At the end, I got into the country, but it was questionable for a few moments.
So there's the start - here's the middle. I ate some wonderful food, drank great wines and was in the presence of yet more awesomeness of Mother Nature and her friends. I had a gracious host who introduced me to some of the wonder of what is Canada. This trip was not life-altering as the others I've taken while on my adventure out West. However, it did remind me that when considering a potential hunk (which my gracious host was qualified for until around some time during the second day of the trip) and playing in the game of dating, that you must wear your helmet, keep your eyes wide open and make sure you know your opponent's strategy. And when a flag is down on the play, pay attention to it - it's there for a goddam reason. This all being said, the Potential Hunk and I had a nice time and I'm better for the experience.
And the end was just as entertaining as the beginning. I was nice to everyone. I followed instruction. I was a soldier in line. Then I gave my boarding pass and passport to someone who glances up at me with a raised eyebrow and proceeds to underline SSSS under the "Remarks/Observations" section of the boarding pass with hot pink. Here we go again. I continued to follow rules and smile, but it did no good. I had to go through some machine AND get patted down. They finally let me through, but I swear to the Big Guy, those people were out to get me. I've never had the desire to be featured on a poster, but I have a feeling that my mug may be somewhere hanging on the wall in the Toronto airport. I hope they got me during a photogenic moment.
This is a Not Knowing What the Hell I was Doing - in more ways than one. But I learned some things. If I decide to go back to Canada and the Canadians will let me back in, I now know how to handle the situation. And I was reminded that in the Dating Game, we should stick to our playbook, watch for those flags and someday, we'll get into the end zone. We're all throwing down flags and can't be all things to all people and we have to play in the same game at the same time. Eventually, those of us playing in the Dating Game will find the right teammate, wear the same jersey and scream TOUCHDOWN!!!!
So there's the start - here's the middle. I ate some wonderful food, drank great wines and was in the presence of yet more awesomeness of Mother Nature and her friends. I had a gracious host who introduced me to some of the wonder of what is Canada. This trip was not life-altering as the others I've taken while on my adventure out West. However, it did remind me that when considering a potential hunk (which my gracious host was qualified for until around some time during the second day of the trip) and playing in the game of dating, that you must wear your helmet, keep your eyes wide open and make sure you know your opponent's strategy. And when a flag is down on the play, pay attention to it - it's there for a goddam reason. This all being said, the Potential Hunk and I had a nice time and I'm better for the experience.
And the end was just as entertaining as the beginning. I was nice to everyone. I followed instruction. I was a soldier in line. Then I gave my boarding pass and passport to someone who glances up at me with a raised eyebrow and proceeds to underline SSSS under the "Remarks/Observations" section of the boarding pass with hot pink. Here we go again. I continued to follow rules and smile, but it did no good. I had to go through some machine AND get patted down. They finally let me through, but I swear to the Big Guy, those people were out to get me. I've never had the desire to be featured on a poster, but I have a feeling that my mug may be somewhere hanging on the wall in the Toronto airport. I hope they got me during a photogenic moment.
This is a Not Knowing What the Hell I was Doing - in more ways than one. But I learned some things. If I decide to go back to Canada and the Canadians will let me back in, I now know how to handle the situation. And I was reminded that in the Dating Game, we should stick to our playbook, watch for those flags and someday, we'll get into the end zone. We're all throwing down flags and can't be all things to all people and we have to play in the same game at the same time. Eventually, those of us playing in the Dating Game will find the right teammate, wear the same jersey and scream TOUCHDOWN!!!!
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Getting to the Center
I just went on an amazing trip with my brother. It was not the drug-induced kind, although at some points, I felt particularly high. One night, I walked to the center of a labyrinth and found a crystal at the center. From what I've read, there are many meanings and cultural origins of the labyrinth - what I took away and what it meant to me was this: I'm following a circular path that is lined with some direction, but in order to follow it to THE center, I have to trust MY center where my heart and soul live. And then, you make it back out to the beginning and do it all over during those times we need to find our center, place a hand on a crystal and feel the magic again.
We also made it to the center of a vortex - I thought I was going to keel over trying to keep up with my brother (the sonofabitch is younger than I am and has longer legs), but success was had by all. Standing between the beautiful enormity of art created by Mother Nature made me feel magnanimous and insignificant, all at the same time. It imposed upon me the realization that as individuals, we can bring one another so many things - love, joy, pain, sorrow and everything in between and surrounding that (much like a labyrinth). And that also as individuals, we are but a minute pinpoint that exists on this earth and I was summoned to absorb the fact that in the grand scheme of the universe, we are but that... a pinpoint.
I needed to learn that my joys and struggles and those of the people I know and/or love can be found in the center and celebrated, understood or solved, as it so applies. And that we are like the tip of a pin that makes a prick in the universe and creates a tiny hole - but through that hole, a light can shine through and expand to places much bigger than us. So this is a Doing What I Thought I Knew.
We also made it to the center of a vortex - I thought I was going to keel over trying to keep up with my brother (the sonofabitch is younger than I am and has longer legs), but success was had by all. Standing between the beautiful enormity of art created by Mother Nature made me feel magnanimous and insignificant, all at the same time. It imposed upon me the realization that as individuals, we can bring one another so many things - love, joy, pain, sorrow and everything in between and surrounding that (much like a labyrinth). And that also as individuals, we are but a minute pinpoint that exists on this earth and I was summoned to absorb the fact that in the grand scheme of the universe, we are but that... a pinpoint.
I needed to learn that my joys and struggles and those of the people I know and/or love can be found in the center and celebrated, understood or solved, as it so applies. And that we are like the tip of a pin that makes a prick in the universe and creates a tiny hole - but through that hole, a light can shine through and expand to places much bigger than us. So this is a Doing What I Thought I Knew.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Casinos and Conundrums
So my last adventures have been in casinos - this was not by design, mind you. I got a last minute deal to Vegas a couple of weeks ago, had no plans, so there I went. Then the following weekend, Boz Skaggs was playing at a local casino, so I went. It was awesome - both trips. I spa'd in Vegas, won $100 (and I have no idea how to gamble) and discovered that there are topless pools at most resorts there. No, I did not partake. Vegas is a shit storm and I was in the middle of it until about 11 o'clock both nights I was there - met some crazy people, had offers to fly out of town the next day internationally, had offers to do things I didn't know existed on this earth, pretended my hearing was lacking while smiling, and then I went to my room and went to sleep. Pretty much the same thing at the local card-slinging joint. But I got to see Boz, and that was definitely worth it. And I met a potential hunk with whom I have been on a date since then. Apparently, that's not going to work out since I haven't really heard from him since. A text or two - but at my age, you either call me and ask me for another date, or I pretty much figure you're moving on to the next best thing you believe to be out there. Or, I scared him in some way shape or form, which has been known to happen.
So here is the conundrum as we've already covered the casinos: Why are so many people so afraid to express their true feelings and intentions AND/OR why do so many people express feelings and intentions that are not true? This is bubbling in me not just from the casino experiences of late - this is bubbling from the people I meet and the people I know in life and the fact that I've spent more time on my own than usual - which is saying a helluva lot, because I know what mega-alone-time means. And this gives me MUCH too much time to ponder this crazy thing we call life. But I suppose that's been the point of my West Adventure and one of the reasons the Big Guy placed me on this earth.
So this is a Not Knowing What the Hell I'm Doing. I need to make sure I'm doing and expressing what is true to me, and to make sure I'm connected with and choose to bring people into my life that do the same. And that is sometimes a really hard soil to toil.
So here is the conundrum as we've already covered the casinos: Why are so many people so afraid to express their true feelings and intentions AND/OR why do so many people express feelings and intentions that are not true? This is bubbling in me not just from the casino experiences of late - this is bubbling from the people I meet and the people I know in life and the fact that I've spent more time on my own than usual - which is saying a helluva lot, because I know what mega-alone-time means. And this gives me MUCH too much time to ponder this crazy thing we call life. But I suppose that's been the point of my West Adventure and one of the reasons the Big Guy placed me on this earth.
So this is a Not Knowing What the Hell I'm Doing. I need to make sure I'm doing and expressing what is true to me, and to make sure I'm connected with and choose to bring people into my life that do the same. And that is sometimes a really hard soil to toil.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Doing What I Know, Doing What I Thought I Knew, Not Knowing What the Hell I Was Doing: Flying Solo with Butterflies
Doing What I Know, Doing What I Thought I Knew, Not Knowing What the Hell I Was Doing: Flying Solo with Butterflies: One of the reasons I chose Arizona as a place to explore for 6 months was the ease of getting in your car or hopping a cheap flight and expe...
Flying Solo with Butterflies
One of the reasons I chose Arizona as a place to explore for 6 months was the ease of getting in your car or hopping a cheap flight and experiencing places I've never been or haven't experienced enough of. I've now been to San Diego - one morning, I put on my running shoes, grabbed my phone and credit card and walked the city for 8 hours. It was amazing. I just got back from a last-minute excursion to the Grand Canyon. Words just cannot describe. Not just the beauty, but of what happened to me while I was there - all the way through my soul and into the middle of my heart.
Traveling by one's self can be liberating and a helluva ton of fun. You do what you want to do when you want to do it - no one is late or bitching or having a breakdown because their hair doesn't look good and/or their ass looks big. Since I've been hunk-less for so long, I barely remember what it's like to travel with a man, but I do remember they don't like shopping so much. And I love to shop. This all being said, I love to travel with other people - as long as they don't get on my last nerve. My daughter and a handful of my friends are the ultimate joy with which to explore - we go with the flow and take it all in while having a freaking blast. And you don't get looked at like you're plagued with a mental illness or a flesh-eating disease when you tell the hostess that there is just one for dinner. And I swear to the Big Guy Above, if I hear "how is it that a woman like you is traveling alone?" one more ass-slapping time, I'm going to poke someone's eyeball out. I really won't do that or I will be dubbed certifiably insane and probably get in some trouble with the law. What I really do is answer: "Because I can."
But for all of the people this weekend who looked at me funny sitting by myself, eating dinner while listening to a guy play a brilliant guitar and singing Willie and Kris or the couples and groups I passed on the hiking trails, I'll make a bet of a trillion dollars, none of them experienced what I did. I was sitting on an outcropping of rocks, reflecting on life and a gorgeous, yellow butterfly started fluttering around me. I wished it to land on me, because somewhere I've heard that is good luck, but she flew away. I continued on my hike and I was literally thinking about how I wished she had chosen me as her landing pad when I saw her (or her twin) fluttering in front of me and I said outloud "Well there you are..." And do you know what? She came to me and landed on my stomach, drank some sweat from my bellybutton and flew away. And I broke down in tears and thanked the universe for allowing me to be a part of such beauty and for keeping me in awe of what this life offers.
This is a Doing What I Thought I Knew - because my life after this has been altered in such an inspiring way.
Traveling by one's self can be liberating and a helluva ton of fun. You do what you want to do when you want to do it - no one is late or bitching or having a breakdown because their hair doesn't look good and/or their ass looks big. Since I've been hunk-less for so long, I barely remember what it's like to travel with a man, but I do remember they don't like shopping so much. And I love to shop. This all being said, I love to travel with other people - as long as they don't get on my last nerve. My daughter and a handful of my friends are the ultimate joy with which to explore - we go with the flow and take it all in while having a freaking blast. And you don't get looked at like you're plagued with a mental illness or a flesh-eating disease when you tell the hostess that there is just one for dinner. And I swear to the Big Guy Above, if I hear "how is it that a woman like you is traveling alone?" one more ass-slapping time, I'm going to poke someone's eyeball out. I really won't do that or I will be dubbed certifiably insane and probably get in some trouble with the law. What I really do is answer: "Because I can."
But for all of the people this weekend who looked at me funny sitting by myself, eating dinner while listening to a guy play a brilliant guitar and singing Willie and Kris or the couples and groups I passed on the hiking trails, I'll make a bet of a trillion dollars, none of them experienced what I did. I was sitting on an outcropping of rocks, reflecting on life and a gorgeous, yellow butterfly started fluttering around me. I wished it to land on me, because somewhere I've heard that is good luck, but she flew away. I continued on my hike and I was literally thinking about how I wished she had chosen me as her landing pad when I saw her (or her twin) fluttering in front of me and I said outloud "Well there you are..." And do you know what? She came to me and landed on my stomach, drank some sweat from my bellybutton and flew away. And I broke down in tears and thanked the universe for allowing me to be a part of such beauty and for keeping me in awe of what this life offers.
This is a Doing What I Thought I Knew - because my life after this has been altered in such an inspiring way.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Whack-a-Mole vs. The Groundhog
Having cocktails with one of my BFFs the other day, we came upon what
I think is a hilarious interpretation of dating. We are comparing
ourselves to rodents, which doesn't bode well from a complimentary standpoint, but
it's a knee-slapper, nonetheless. Here it goes....
My friend is like the Whack-a-Mole. If you don't know what that is, just think back to the carnival days and that game you played by which you were given a mallet and would try to whack the mole on the head each time it poked out of a hole. Then, it would sink back down and re-emerge from another hole - and you would try and whack it again. This is my friend in the dating world - she sticks her head out of the ground, finds some hunk (or male mole) that she is attracted to and vice versa , they go out on a date (or 4) OR have a flirtatious encounter(s), it doesn't work out for one reason or another (i.e. she gets whacked on the head), and then she goes back under. Then, as nature would have it, she sticks her head back out only to be lightly boinked by the mallet, and, well, you get where I'm going with this. But God love her, she keeps poking that cute head up with those brown eyes and doesn't lose the faith.
I, on the other hand, am like the Groundhog. Every once in a while, I emerge from the down under to check out the scenery, smells and general vibe of the universe. I take a look around, sniff, open my senses to the hunk that may be sniffing around me, and if I don't like it and my Groundhog hairs are standing up all over my body, I get the hell out of dodge and back to my safe haven and don't come up for a while. Thankfully, the world is not relying upon me to end the winter season - I'd probably have a lot of enemies.
I suppose you could liken my quest to find the hunk of my dreams to waiting for the glorious Spring season and making sure everything is going to bloom and there's not a bunch of dog shit around my Groundhog hole that I may step in when I come out. I'm not sure what you'd liken the Whack-a-Mole to - perhaps playing the game until you win whilst not getting too many bumps on your head. Either way, this dating adventure is just that, an adventure. No matter what hole you're coming up from or going back into.
This is a Doing What I Know.
My friend is like the Whack-a-Mole. If you don't know what that is, just think back to the carnival days and that game you played by which you were given a mallet and would try to whack the mole on the head each time it poked out of a hole. Then, it would sink back down and re-emerge from another hole - and you would try and whack it again. This is my friend in the dating world - she sticks her head out of the ground, finds some hunk (or male mole) that she is attracted to and vice versa , they go out on a date (or 4) OR have a flirtatious encounter(s), it doesn't work out for one reason or another (i.e. she gets whacked on the head), and then she goes back under. Then, as nature would have it, she sticks her head back out only to be lightly boinked by the mallet, and, well, you get where I'm going with this. But God love her, she keeps poking that cute head up with those brown eyes and doesn't lose the faith.
I, on the other hand, am like the Groundhog. Every once in a while, I emerge from the down under to check out the scenery, smells and general vibe of the universe. I take a look around, sniff, open my senses to the hunk that may be sniffing around me, and if I don't like it and my Groundhog hairs are standing up all over my body, I get the hell out of dodge and back to my safe haven and don't come up for a while. Thankfully, the world is not relying upon me to end the winter season - I'd probably have a lot of enemies.
I suppose you could liken my quest to find the hunk of my dreams to waiting for the glorious Spring season and making sure everything is going to bloom and there's not a bunch of dog shit around my Groundhog hole that I may step in when I come out. I'm not sure what you'd liken the Whack-a-Mole to - perhaps playing the game until you win whilst not getting too many bumps on your head. Either way, this dating adventure is just that, an adventure. No matter what hole you're coming up from or going back into.
This is a Doing What I Know.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
The Clueless Has Landed
I've spent my first few days in Arizona for the first time on my own and I've learned a few things. I'm better off going on a run to figure out where everything is - the other day, I figured out I've been driving around my ass to get to my elbow to get to groceries stores (here, you can buy vodka in the grocery stores along with wine and I find that glorious) and the drug store. But hey, I found a Trader Joe's, so that was okay - even if it was 17 miles away. I've also learned that there is a sundry of great shopping and eating that doesn't require me to get in a car to get to - simply put, dangerous. I've learned to put sunscreen in the crown of my hair. I'm imagining some ugly flaking in the near future. I've learned that drinking as much water as is required especially when exercising makes one less inclined to drink as much booze as normal or eat as much which is great for weight loss AND hydrating the skin (which, by the way, in combination with really great lotions has my skin looking better than ever, so here's a big raspberry sent out to the naysayers who said I'd dry up like a Papyrus greeting card - my skin is brown and plump - so there).
When I embarked upon this adventure, I wasn't running from anything, but rather to a space in which I am able to discover more about who I am at this stage of life. Stepping away from the pattern and place I've created for myself and into a bit of the unknown is what I've needed to begin to center myself and start to ask: How do I become the absolute best version of me? As a mother, a daughter, a family member, a friend, a professional, a contributor - ultimately, what the Big Guy designed for me when he decided to throw me into the womb of my Mom. I imagine Him saying: "Alright, Cindy, here are your ingredients, let her bake for a while and make sure you take her out of the oven at the right temperature and texture 'cause she's got some work to do."
So, I am in throes of experience, learning and cleansing myself of all the negativity, internal and external, that even DARE to get in the way of me turning out to be the perfect recipe I was intended to be. I just ain't got time for that.
This is a Not Knowing What the Hell I'm Doing - but man, I'm gonna have a ball.
When I embarked upon this adventure, I wasn't running from anything, but rather to a space in which I am able to discover more about who I am at this stage of life. Stepping away from the pattern and place I've created for myself and into a bit of the unknown is what I've needed to begin to center myself and start to ask: How do I become the absolute best version of me? As a mother, a daughter, a family member, a friend, a professional, a contributor - ultimately, what the Big Guy designed for me when he decided to throw me into the womb of my Mom. I imagine Him saying: "Alright, Cindy, here are your ingredients, let her bake for a while and make sure you take her out of the oven at the right temperature and texture 'cause she's got some work to do."
So, I am in throes of experience, learning and cleansing myself of all the negativity, internal and external, that even DARE to get in the way of me turning out to be the perfect recipe I was intended to be. I just ain't got time for that.
This is a Not Knowing What the Hell I'm Doing - but man, I'm gonna have a ball.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Tunnels
I went for a run on a gorgeous trail along the Saluda River today. I should call it a run-walk as I have to slow it down a few times along the way, but I'm going to say I did some HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) to make myself appear more athletic and cool. So, I did some HIIT today and at the end of one of the toughest legs of the trail, there is a tunnel. It's more of an enclosed, wooden bridge, but I think of it as a tunnel. I've learned through my runs on said trail that after this tunnel, it is time for me to slow my roll. And I found myself chanting "To it and through it", "To it and through it". I did this, in order to concentrate on two things: steady, deep breathing and not throwing up.
At the end of this tunnel, I began to walk and meditate. This is probably why I'm not good at the meditation thing - I'm always in motion unless sleeping or drinking wine. And hell, I have one of those wine glass holders that goes around your neck devices, so I can even jet around while slurping grape. Anyway, I was thinking deeply and it came to me... our lives are paths with tunnels. We see them down the way and if we can get to it and through it, we make it to the other side. Perhaps sometimes we're throwing up, but through it nonetheless. The tunnel may represent something scary, traumatic, uncertain (fill in the blank), but if we make ourselves get to it and stare into the opening instead of zigzagging from side to side in front of the damn thing and exhausting ourselves, we can get through it.
No one knows how many tunnels life's path is going to construct. It'd be like guessing how many cottage cheese dimples we're going to end up with and where. So we better become practiced in being in the tunnels that may be dark, echoing and with shaky boards as we're walking across, but by God, we can get through them to the other side and the sun will be shining on our bodies and we'll be able to run some more.
This is a Doing What I Thought I Knew because I've done more than my share of zigzagging. Time for the To It and Through It as much as I am able.
At the end of this tunnel, I began to walk and meditate. This is probably why I'm not good at the meditation thing - I'm always in motion unless sleeping or drinking wine. And hell, I have one of those wine glass holders that goes around your neck devices, so I can even jet around while slurping grape. Anyway, I was thinking deeply and it came to me... our lives are paths with tunnels. We see them down the way and if we can get to it and through it, we make it to the other side. Perhaps sometimes we're throwing up, but through it nonetheless. The tunnel may represent something scary, traumatic, uncertain (fill in the blank), but if we make ourselves get to it and stare into the opening instead of zigzagging from side to side in front of the damn thing and exhausting ourselves, we can get through it.
No one knows how many tunnels life's path is going to construct. It'd be like guessing how many cottage cheese dimples we're going to end up with and where. So we better become practiced in being in the tunnels that may be dark, echoing and with shaky boards as we're walking across, but by God, we can get through them to the other side and the sun will be shining on our bodies and we'll be able to run some more.
This is a Doing What I Thought I Knew because I've done more than my share of zigzagging. Time for the To It and Through It as much as I am able.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Roll Me Away
Today is my 45th birthday, so I felt I should write something. I'm a bit at a loss due to a week-long intake of cold meds, extreme work clutter, the bug man making a tremendous amount of noise outside of my office and well, damn it all, having a brain that is 45-years old. As I try to write this, my brain went to a thought stream around the bug man - "Why is he making so much noise? I thought their job was to wander around and spray chemicals? When will he be finished? Will his boss notice if he never shows up for work again if I strangle him?" So this may be tough, but here goes...
I'm 45 years old, presently living in my daughter's house, work for myself with no stable paycheck, have no potential hunks in my life and am about to move across the country away from all my peeps, including my obsessively-loved dogs. My friends and family tell me they envy me. Hell, even strangers I meet tell me they envy me. Some are probably being honest, but I bet when I walk out of the room, my Mom, Dad, Brother and a smattering of my friends say: "What the hell is she doing? Should we have her committed?" But it's happening and I'm so excited I could bust an internal organ from giggling so much.
It's scary and exalting all at the same time. I will explore, be lonely, have fun, probably eat and drink too much, rebel, revel, and most importantly, learn. Learn about who I am, who I was, who I can be, who I want to be... and all by myself. It's not that I haven't moved before or experienced being alone - Jesus H. Christ, I've done that more often than I like to admit. But it's a different time and situation. I've spent many years planning and living my life around the people (and dogs) I love and let me tell you something, it's been worth every joyous and/or stressful and/or heartbreaking minute. These minutes have made me who I am and I pray have had impact and meaning on those with whom I've spent them. In my opinion, that is the making for an awesome existence on this earth.
So, in closing, I will quote my imaginary lover's words, especially when I speak of travel and adventure, Bob Seger:
"I could go east, I could go west,
it was all up to me to decide"...
This is a Not Knowing What the Hell I Am Doing. But rollin' just the same.
I'm 45 years old, presently living in my daughter's house, work for myself with no stable paycheck, have no potential hunks in my life and am about to move across the country away from all my peeps, including my obsessively-loved dogs. My friends and family tell me they envy me. Hell, even strangers I meet tell me they envy me. Some are probably being honest, but I bet when I walk out of the room, my Mom, Dad, Brother and a smattering of my friends say: "What the hell is she doing? Should we have her committed?" But it's happening and I'm so excited I could bust an internal organ from giggling so much.
It's scary and exalting all at the same time. I will explore, be lonely, have fun, probably eat and drink too much, rebel, revel, and most importantly, learn. Learn about who I am, who I was, who I can be, who I want to be... and all by myself. It's not that I haven't moved before or experienced being alone - Jesus H. Christ, I've done that more often than I like to admit. But it's a different time and situation. I've spent many years planning and living my life around the people (and dogs) I love and let me tell you something, it's been worth every joyous and/or stressful and/or heartbreaking minute. These minutes have made me who I am and I pray have had impact and meaning on those with whom I've spent them. In my opinion, that is the making for an awesome existence on this earth.
So, in closing, I will quote my imaginary lover's words, especially when I speak of travel and adventure, Bob Seger:
"I could go east, I could go west,
it was all up to me to decide"...
This is a Not Knowing What the Hell I Am Doing. But rollin' just the same.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
My Bitches
To those of you who read this, I apologize for being gone. I've actually had some inquiries and it seems there are those crazy Bitches out there who are enjoying this compilation - a couple of Dudes too. Who'da thunk it? Before anyone gets pissed, I use the terms "Bitches" and "Dudes" with lots of love and respect.
Basically, I was abducted by Bitches. That's right - the last month I was captured by lovely, crazy women from all over the country - and it was fantastic. Those of you that need to get your minds out of the gutter, please do. I have not flown to the Vagina Side of the Moon. I still want a Hunk in my life. Simply put, I have spent some incredible time with Bitches from all over the US, all walks of life and owning all kinds of stories. And it has made me realize and qualify some important things:
1. Bitches rock.
2. We know how to have a lot more fun than Dudes without taking our pants off unless we are skinny-dipping.
3. We can drink Those with Penises around the block and STILL wake up in the morning and take care of whatever business we have. And then go run around the block again.
4. Our brains and livers are like sponges - they retain everything until squeezed (aka detoxed), become empty and then need to be filled up again. Otherwise, Bitches just get bored.
5. Bitches may fall down and skin our knees, maybe even crack a skull or two, but by God, we stand back up, slap some Neosporin and a Band-Aid on and we're good to go.
6. I love the Bitches in my life more than words describe.
So, sorry for my absence, but I was busy. My Bitches beckoned.
This is a Doing What I Know.
Basically, I was abducted by Bitches. That's right - the last month I was captured by lovely, crazy women from all over the country - and it was fantastic. Those of you that need to get your minds out of the gutter, please do. I have not flown to the Vagina Side of the Moon. I still want a Hunk in my life. Simply put, I have spent some incredible time with Bitches from all over the US, all walks of life and owning all kinds of stories. And it has made me realize and qualify some important things:
1. Bitches rock.
2. We know how to have a lot more fun than Dudes without taking our pants off unless we are skinny-dipping.
3. We can drink Those with Penises around the block and STILL wake up in the morning and take care of whatever business we have. And then go run around the block again.
4. Our brains and livers are like sponges - they retain everything until squeezed (aka detoxed), become empty and then need to be filled up again. Otherwise, Bitches just get bored.
5. Bitches may fall down and skin our knees, maybe even crack a skull or two, but by God, we stand back up, slap some Neosporin and a Band-Aid on and we're good to go.
6. I love the Bitches in my life more than words describe.
So, sorry for my absence, but I was busy. My Bitches beckoned.
This is a Doing What I Know.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Valentine's Day Eve Eve Eve....
Suffice it to say, I don't have a big Heart for the big V-Day at the present moment. I'm sans-hunk or any real prospects and the only male lovin' I'm getting right now is from Wiley. He is my dog, weighs approximately 13 pounds and is very hairy. He does, however, gaze at me like I'm a Goddess, squeal when I get home and snuggle up to me at night. There you go.
I would love to love Valentine's Day. I love celebrating Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas without a hunk. Hell, I love any beautiful day without a hunk. But this season just slays me. And it has been made into a Season, not just a Day. Diamonds, flowers, kisses, hands-on-the-ass.... for at least two to three weeks before the dreaded February 14th hits the calendar. It makes us single chicks feel a bit, well, let me just say it.... ENVIOUS and/or FOREVER HOPEFUL! And I would imagine it makes those chicky- mamas out there with a man in their lives feel one (or more) of the following:
1. Absolutely loved and cherished (we single women envy you)
2. Anxious because you don't know what the hell to expect (we single women fear you)
3. Bored because you just don't care (we single women don't want to be you)
4. A combination of one or more of the above (we single women don't know what to think)
On February 14th, I am going to pretend it's just another day and ignore the flower delivery trucks passing by my house - or maybe I'll egg them as they go by. That would be fun. But then as the work day ends, I'll get the warm-fuzzies (after a glass of wine, of course) and feel the desire to treat my household to a nice dinner and probably a goofy Valentine's Day treat. Dogs included. Maybe I'll even get one of those fancy balloons to liven up the joint a little. Because I do have hope, I have a boatload of love in my life right now and I will meet that hunk that makes my toes curl and adores me as much as Wiley does... I really do believe this. Even if I won't have any damned flowers delivered to my door on 2/14.
This is a Doing What I Know.
I would love to love Valentine's Day. I love celebrating Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas without a hunk. Hell, I love any beautiful day without a hunk. But this season just slays me. And it has been made into a Season, not just a Day. Diamonds, flowers, kisses, hands-on-the-ass.... for at least two to three weeks before the dreaded February 14th hits the calendar. It makes us single chicks feel a bit, well, let me just say it.... ENVIOUS and/or FOREVER HOPEFUL! And I would imagine it makes those chicky- mamas out there with a man in their lives feel one (or more) of the following:
1. Absolutely loved and cherished (we single women envy you)
2. Anxious because you don't know what the hell to expect (we single women fear you)
3. Bored because you just don't care (we single women don't want to be you)
4. A combination of one or more of the above (we single women don't know what to think)
On February 14th, I am going to pretend it's just another day and ignore the flower delivery trucks passing by my house - or maybe I'll egg them as they go by. That would be fun. But then as the work day ends, I'll get the warm-fuzzies (after a glass of wine, of course) and feel the desire to treat my household to a nice dinner and probably a goofy Valentine's Day treat. Dogs included. Maybe I'll even get one of those fancy balloons to liven up the joint a little. Because I do have hope, I have a boatload of love in my life right now and I will meet that hunk that makes my toes curl and adores me as much as Wiley does... I really do believe this. Even if I won't have any damned flowers delivered to my door on 2/14.
This is a Doing What I Know.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
A Lizard's Thicket
I really have no idea why this place got it's name nor do I understand what it means. I know what a "lizard" is and that a "thicket" is a dense group of trees and/or bushes - apparently, the creators of Lizard's Thicket are comparing their patrons to a "lizard" and their establishment to a "thicket" and people gather there to eat. For those not familiar with the Columbia, SC area, this is a southern cooking restaurant chain. But my story is not about that.
Unfortunately, I was the recipient of whatever crap is going around the country right now and I have felt like the aforementioned for a week. When I am sick, I crave bad food - so I placed a to-go order at Lizard's Thicket for some fried chicken and mac n' cheese. I felt horrible and looked worse, so my plan was to walk in, pay and leave. But because God likes to play tricks sometimes, they couldn't find my order and I had to sit and wait. I'll give you an image, sensory and visual - didn't bathe that day, hair in tufts sticking out haphazardly from my ponytail, red nose and eyes AND (I do not jest here) snot on the front of my sweatshirt. I was horrendous.
So even though I wanted to poke the cashier's eyeballs out, I smiled, re-ordered and sat down to wait. Must have been the effects of the cold meds. Another patron waiting for his food started a conversation - obviously he felt sorry for me as everyone else was keeping their distance. He got his food before me, and I'll be damned if this gentleman didn't ask me "if I had a man in my life" and "if not, I would like to take you out for a real dinner." He went on to say that not only was I "beautiful" (okay, now we're pushing it, buddy) but that "obviously I was not feeling well and you handled the situation with your order not being ready with grace and kindness." (That one, I'll take.)
Most likely, I will not use the phone number provided to me - not because he wasn't a handsome man, but let's face it, we can pretty much determine a level of attraction within the first few minutes of meeting someone. I know that's not always the case, but I did not feel the "zing" - again, may have been the cold meds. In addition to the fact that this man has got to have some kind of crazy in him to try and pick me up at a Lizard's Thicket when I looked like a homeless person, straight from the streets. However, I think this guy deserves some kudos and I wish more men were willing to take a chance and approach us - it takes gumption and it does make us women feel good. Unless it turns to stalking, and then not so much.
So this is a Doing What I Know - our beauty resonates from within and overtakes the ugly that may be happening on the outside on that particular day. If nothing else, I will call this man and tell him I appreciate him for recognizing that.
Unfortunately, I was the recipient of whatever crap is going around the country right now and I have felt like the aforementioned for a week. When I am sick, I crave bad food - so I placed a to-go order at Lizard's Thicket for some fried chicken and mac n' cheese. I felt horrible and looked worse, so my plan was to walk in, pay and leave. But because God likes to play tricks sometimes, they couldn't find my order and I had to sit and wait. I'll give you an image, sensory and visual - didn't bathe that day, hair in tufts sticking out haphazardly from my ponytail, red nose and eyes AND (I do not jest here) snot on the front of my sweatshirt. I was horrendous.
So even though I wanted to poke the cashier's eyeballs out, I smiled, re-ordered and sat down to wait. Must have been the effects of the cold meds. Another patron waiting for his food started a conversation - obviously he felt sorry for me as everyone else was keeping their distance. He got his food before me, and I'll be damned if this gentleman didn't ask me "if I had a man in my life" and "if not, I would like to take you out for a real dinner." He went on to say that not only was I "beautiful" (okay, now we're pushing it, buddy) but that "obviously I was not feeling well and you handled the situation with your order not being ready with grace and kindness." (That one, I'll take.)
Most likely, I will not use the phone number provided to me - not because he wasn't a handsome man, but let's face it, we can pretty much determine a level of attraction within the first few minutes of meeting someone. I know that's not always the case, but I did not feel the "zing" - again, may have been the cold meds. In addition to the fact that this man has got to have some kind of crazy in him to try and pick me up at a Lizard's Thicket when I looked like a homeless person, straight from the streets. However, I think this guy deserves some kudos and I wish more men were willing to take a chance and approach us - it takes gumption and it does make us women feel good. Unless it turns to stalking, and then not so much.
So this is a Doing What I Know - our beauty resonates from within and overtakes the ugly that may be happening on the outside on that particular day. If nothing else, I will call this man and tell him I appreciate him for recognizing that.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
The Open Road
Though one of my absolute favorite things to do in life is travel, this is not a writing about hitting The Open Road - not like Bob Segar would do it, anyway. When I am able, that's how I'm going to hit it - Bob's piano playing while my hair is flying in the wind, glass of wine in one hand and the other wrapped around some hunk's waist (obviously, I'm not driving the motorcycle). Not knowing where I'm going, only knowing where I've been...
ANYWAY, these are thoughts of where I stand in life today. It's frightening, enlightening, exasperating, exciting and sometimes, let's face it, disorienting. The Open Road is long and wide and traverses many landscapes - some of the terrain rough and tumultuous, some of it rolling and lush, and then there's the in-between. I've experienced it all and I strive to make the hikes that remain in my lifetime #2 of the 3. By this point in my life, I've gotten in my own way, stepped aside and am now allowing myself to move forward in fluid motion. I'm not foolish, I know there will be bumps in the road, but I'm ecstatic to report that at least when I see those bumps, I can say "Um, hey there Lady, remember when you decided to run over that same bump with full force a couple of (days, weeks, months, years, insert whatever applies) ago? Let's choose to roll our wheels around that sucker, okay?"
The openness of what lies before me is liberating and sometimes overwhelming. I am so thankful to have the family and friends that I do - they hold my ropes as I belay down and over this terrain. I believe we all do that for one another. And although I haven't quite discovered the perfect route to my destination, I am looking at the street sign for The Open Road at this very moment, and I know this is the point at which I'm going to start. I hear the piano playing...
So, I must dub this entry as all three Doings, me thinks. And we'll just have to see what kinds of Doings the Open Road generates.
ANYWAY, these are thoughts of where I stand in life today. It's frightening, enlightening, exasperating, exciting and sometimes, let's face it, disorienting. The Open Road is long and wide and traverses many landscapes - some of the terrain rough and tumultuous, some of it rolling and lush, and then there's the in-between. I've experienced it all and I strive to make the hikes that remain in my lifetime #2 of the 3. By this point in my life, I've gotten in my own way, stepped aside and am now allowing myself to move forward in fluid motion. I'm not foolish, I know there will be bumps in the road, but I'm ecstatic to report that at least when I see those bumps, I can say "Um, hey there Lady, remember when you decided to run over that same bump with full force a couple of (days, weeks, months, years, insert whatever applies) ago? Let's choose to roll our wheels around that sucker, okay?"
The openness of what lies before me is liberating and sometimes overwhelming. I am so thankful to have the family and friends that I do - they hold my ropes as I belay down and over this terrain. I believe we all do that for one another. And although I haven't quite discovered the perfect route to my destination, I am looking at the street sign for The Open Road at this very moment, and I know this is the point at which I'm going to start. I hear the piano playing...
So, I must dub this entry as all three Doings, me thinks. And we'll just have to see what kinds of Doings the Open Road generates.
Monday, January 14, 2013
E-Squared
I have a new gynecologist and I'm going to say it - I just love him! He spent years delivering babies and now just concentrates on us Ladies who need help with their estrogen. Dr. Hutch is an Estrogen Expert, so I have dubbed him E-Squared. Not only does he make me feel like I'm not crazy for sometimes wanting to bite nails in half, he also has an aesthetics practice! So, Monday through Wednesday, I can see Dr. Hutch for any meds I may need - he has introduced me to Estrogen cream, which not only makes those of us in pre-menopause feel awesome, but is great for wrinkles and those brown spots. Who knew? Thursdays, I can see him for a Botox lift. Fridays, I hope the man takes the day off. He deserves it. Anyway, he is my hero - a man who brought little lives into the world and makes we women feel sane and beautiful. If he were 20 years younger and I could confirm that he is single, I'd ask him on a date.
So my first visit to Dr. Hutch was for the beautification and we got to talking about pre-menopause, estrogen, birth control and the like. While discussing the BC issue, we touched upon the sexual activity issue - to which I honestly replied that since I am not currently dating any hunks (or anyone for that matter) and it's not a real concern, but may want to make some changes with what I put in my body. Meaning birth control drugs, but I suppose that applies to any future hunks too. I'll just leave it at that for the risk of getting WAY too personal. Then we discussed my age and the likelihood of a pregnancy (which I have no desire to have one of, by the way) and Dr. Hutch said something to the effect of "Well, you're not having sex, so why even worry about taking any birth control?" Thankfully, I was in a great mood that day, so E-Squared was spared my poking his eyeballs out. I replied to him that "I am 44 years old, not 84 and I certainly plan on having sex again - hopefully sooner rather than later - and ongoing for years to come!" Pun intended. We had a good laugh and his nurse had to leave the room and run to the restroom to avoid peeing her pants.
Getting into my 40s has been interesting, to say the least. I was a young mother when I gave birth and now I'm still a young mom to a 22-year old. My life is pretty awesome (minus the no hunk in my life situation, but that will change) with its normal stresses, but let me tell you, I feel blessed every day. And when I forget to feel blessed, I kick myself in the ass to get it back on track. Life isn't perfect, my body's not perfect and my brain leaves a bit to be desired some days, however, I've got a lot of living left to do and I can't wait to rock it! Don't put me out to pasture just yet, E-Squared. And keep that estrogen cream coming...
This is Doing What I Know.
So my first visit to Dr. Hutch was for the beautification and we got to talking about pre-menopause, estrogen, birth control and the like. While discussing the BC issue, we touched upon the sexual activity issue - to which I honestly replied that since I am not currently dating any hunks (or anyone for that matter) and it's not a real concern, but may want to make some changes with what I put in my body. Meaning birth control drugs, but I suppose that applies to any future hunks too. I'll just leave it at that for the risk of getting WAY too personal. Then we discussed my age and the likelihood of a pregnancy (which I have no desire to have one of, by the way) and Dr. Hutch said something to the effect of "Well, you're not having sex, so why even worry about taking any birth control?" Thankfully, I was in a great mood that day, so E-Squared was spared my poking his eyeballs out. I replied to him that "I am 44 years old, not 84 and I certainly plan on having sex again - hopefully sooner rather than later - and ongoing for years to come!" Pun intended. We had a good laugh and his nurse had to leave the room and run to the restroom to avoid peeing her pants.
Getting into my 40s has been interesting, to say the least. I was a young mother when I gave birth and now I'm still a young mom to a 22-year old. My life is pretty awesome (minus the no hunk in my life situation, but that will change) with its normal stresses, but let me tell you, I feel blessed every day. And when I forget to feel blessed, I kick myself in the ass to get it back on track. Life isn't perfect, my body's not perfect and my brain leaves a bit to be desired some days, however, I've got a lot of living left to do and I can't wait to rock it! Don't put me out to pasture just yet, E-Squared. And keep that estrogen cream coming...
This is Doing What I Know.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Dogs
These of are the literal, not the figurative sense. Although, be prepared to see postings of dogs in the figurative sense in the future.
Hopefully, this will reach folks that don't know me, so I feel like I need to introduce myself gradually. For this post, I will title myself "Dog Lover and Rescuer". I have learned that I prefer rescuing dogs that are sane and unfortunately, in my experience, that happens less often than not. Damn it all. This will also segue into cocktail shopping - which is, by the way a wonderful and dangerous experience - just don't do it while shopping in PetSmart.
My ladies and I love to Cocktail Shop - we have a drink and then we shop. Then we have another drink and then we shop. It is one of our favorite things to do and is comparable to nothing else in this God Given world. It is orgasmic, it is therapeutic, it can be psychotic. But chick-y mama, is it FUN. Yes, we all have regrets after an afternoon of Cocktail Shopping, but they are usually short-lived as we can put on the pants and spray ourselves with our new good-smell stuff and the anxiety just dissipates - simply goes away. This is an entry for a whole other time. I digress to one of my current situations that can be assimilated to Cocktail Shopping, but in a BAD way. Very BAD.
I took my daughter to lunch which on the weekends (and let's face it, weekdays) involves having at least 2 cocktails. I have a stern rule - I do not go out to lunch without consuming 2 glasses of wine. It's just not worth my time to drive to an establishment otherwise. SO.... we had been to lunch and I needed to go to PetSmart to get dog food. It was Pet Adoption Day - Damn It All. My story is, I walked in for pet food and walked out with a fucking puppy. And he has been my nemesis ever since. I wish I could love him, but I cannot. Let's just suffice to say - holes in back yard, window sills destroyed, couch cushions in fluff, puke/bile/piss everywhere, sick, ruin, ruin, ruin. Oh, did I mention - he's a pit bull?
This dog was procured (and yes, just because we rescue, does NOT mean free) for my daughter. She loves big, oaf-y canines that are supposed to protect. I've learned over the years that I prefer the little pip-squeaks that you can ignore if need be. I will not live with my daughter forever - as much as I love her. This dog is accelerating the process, need I say more, in deciding where I will live and what I want to be when I grow up. I am 44-years old, I am tired and my estrogen level is low. I've raised a child successfully, a dog from a breeder and a rescue that was almost thrown back to the pack, but I decided to practice a patience I normally don't have. And thank the good Lord above I did, because I love that little shit. But this new one.... I wish I could put my arms around him and tell him he's cute and I can get over his neurosis. Gotta tell ya - it's not happening.
So this is a "Doing What I Thought I Knew" post. I thought saving any animal was the righteous thing to do for everyone. My blood pressure is proof that it is NOT.
Hopefully, this will reach folks that don't know me, so I feel like I need to introduce myself gradually. For this post, I will title myself "Dog Lover and Rescuer". I have learned that I prefer rescuing dogs that are sane and unfortunately, in my experience, that happens less often than not. Damn it all. This will also segue into cocktail shopping - which is, by the way a wonderful and dangerous experience - just don't do it while shopping in PetSmart.
My ladies and I love to Cocktail Shop - we have a drink and then we shop. Then we have another drink and then we shop. It is one of our favorite things to do and is comparable to nothing else in this God Given world. It is orgasmic, it is therapeutic, it can be psychotic. But chick-y mama, is it FUN. Yes, we all have regrets after an afternoon of Cocktail Shopping, but they are usually short-lived as we can put on the pants and spray ourselves with our new good-smell stuff and the anxiety just dissipates - simply goes away. This is an entry for a whole other time. I digress to one of my current situations that can be assimilated to Cocktail Shopping, but in a BAD way. Very BAD.
I took my daughter to lunch which on the weekends (and let's face it, weekdays) involves having at least 2 cocktails. I have a stern rule - I do not go out to lunch without consuming 2 glasses of wine. It's just not worth my time to drive to an establishment otherwise. SO.... we had been to lunch and I needed to go to PetSmart to get dog food. It was Pet Adoption Day - Damn It All. My story is, I walked in for pet food and walked out with a fucking puppy. And he has been my nemesis ever since. I wish I could love him, but I cannot. Let's just suffice to say - holes in back yard, window sills destroyed, couch cushions in fluff, puke/bile/piss everywhere, sick, ruin, ruin, ruin. Oh, did I mention - he's a pit bull?
This dog was procured (and yes, just because we rescue, does NOT mean free) for my daughter. She loves big, oaf-y canines that are supposed to protect. I've learned over the years that I prefer the little pip-squeaks that you can ignore if need be. I will not live with my daughter forever - as much as I love her. This dog is accelerating the process, need I say more, in deciding where I will live and what I want to be when I grow up. I am 44-years old, I am tired and my estrogen level is low. I've raised a child successfully, a dog from a breeder and a rescue that was almost thrown back to the pack, but I decided to practice a patience I normally don't have. And thank the good Lord above I did, because I love that little shit. But this new one.... I wish I could put my arms around him and tell him he's cute and I can get over his neurosis. Gotta tell ya - it's not happening.
So this is a "Doing What I Thought I Knew" post. I thought saving any animal was the righteous thing to do for everyone. My blood pressure is proof that it is NOT.
Friday, January 4, 2013
The Three Doings Birth in a Dream
I honestly woke from a dream last night with the words "Doing What I Know" flashing in my head and had every intention of writing it down and of course, fell back asleep. Then, I had a very vivid dream of waking back up and reaching over to my bedside table to get out pen and paper to write this down, but there was only empty candy wrappers, rubber balls and a wrench of some kind in the drawer, so at this point in the dream, I knew it was just a dream. I should probably look at my Dream Interpretation book on the contents in the drawer, but not sure I want to know the meaning. The words kept coming to me in sleep, so I knew they were important. Do you know those dreams you literally have to WILL yourself to wake from a vision - you can see yourself waking up, but it takes a few times to actually open your eyes? This is what happened to me and this was the birth of this writing.
I am not an author, but have always enjoyed writing. Matter of fact, in gradeschool, I won the county Young Author's contest (The Canine Caper - clever, huh?) and had wanted to write a book someday. My Mom actually still has the framed certificate on the wall. At this point, I have no idea of how to go about writing a book, but I do know how to create a blog. So here we are.
This series will be stories, thoughts, experiences about no particular subject matter. The initial "Doing What I Know" is stemming from where I stand in life personally - as many can relate, it is difficult to describe, but is surrounded by the fact that I've recognized the importance of getting to know who I am at the core and living my life based upon that core. We will always experience the ebb, flow and changes in life, however I believe most of us question and waver the core that makes us who we are - the good, the bad and the ugly - because an outer-lying being deems us to do so. Personally, I have done this so much over the years, I KNOW it caused me to get in the way of myself.
So, I'm going to write for personal therapy and hopefully other's enjoyment (if anyone ever reads this). At the end of each entry, I'll name it either a 1)"Doing What I Know" 2)"Doing What I Thought I Knew" 3) "Not Knowing What the Hell I was Doing" - i.e. 1)our core, 2) outside of our core, 3) stupidity/ignorance/I couldn't help myself bliss.
This is going to be a helluva experience involving gaffaws, tears and hopefully provoking some thought. We'll see what happens down the line!
I am not an author, but have always enjoyed writing. Matter of fact, in gradeschool, I won the county Young Author's contest (The Canine Caper - clever, huh?) and had wanted to write a book someday. My Mom actually still has the framed certificate on the wall. At this point, I have no idea of how to go about writing a book, but I do know how to create a blog. So here we are.
This series will be stories, thoughts, experiences about no particular subject matter. The initial "Doing What I Know" is stemming from where I stand in life personally - as many can relate, it is difficult to describe, but is surrounded by the fact that I've recognized the importance of getting to know who I am at the core and living my life based upon that core. We will always experience the ebb, flow and changes in life, however I believe most of us question and waver the core that makes us who we are - the good, the bad and the ugly - because an outer-lying being deems us to do so. Personally, I have done this so much over the years, I KNOW it caused me to get in the way of myself.
So, I'm going to write for personal therapy and hopefully other's enjoyment (if anyone ever reads this). At the end of each entry, I'll name it either a 1)"Doing What I Know" 2)"Doing What I Thought I Knew" 3) "Not Knowing What the Hell I was Doing" - i.e. 1)our core, 2) outside of our core, 3) stupidity/ignorance/I couldn't help myself bliss.
This is going to be a helluva experience involving gaffaws, tears and hopefully provoking some thought. We'll see what happens down the line!
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