Mujeres, Muchachos, Moving and Merriment

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!!!!

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.

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.