Thursday, March 31, 2011

And I Can't Spend My Whole Life Hiding My Heart Away...

So I made a decision today. No, it wasn't today, it was over the weekend, to post on my other site for a while. To test out the waters and to see if fun there is possible.

Deep down inside, I am aware that I can only say so much there. That is why this will remain my 'home'. It's safe. I can say what I need to. I can finally start this story. I can move on and move forward and do all those clichéd things people do when they want to grow. Maybe they aren't so clichéd.

Maybe today is not the right day to start. I outed a bully and she replied with a threat. That doesn't upset me.

I met with resistance from someone I thought would do something important. That can't upset me.

My heart is broken. It has been for a while. That worries me.

I have tried to say it is healed. It is not. I have tried to say it is okay. It is not. I have tried to say I am fine. Right.

Am I having fun? Yes. I am doing and going and being.

That has to be enough, yes? And yet it isn't. My heart is broken. After a full year I know that as much as I smile and as happy as I am and as much as I am attempting to be good with the universe, I am still not sure how someone deals with a broken heart. I'm not good at it. Is anyone? No, only people who distance themselves from others could possible be good at this kind of thing.

I am not sure when it is supposed to heal. I would say 'don't tell anyone I said this', but I just blogged about it. That's the first step to fixing something, right? Admitting there is a problem.

Well, I have a problem. My heart is broken and I'm a little tired of it.

My heart is not broken for a person, it is broken because an ideal is gone. An opportunity. A thing bigger than him, me, us.

My heart is broken because I am too busy trying to say all is well to deal with why I am still sad. Why disappointment still hurts. Why a decision made in anger changed everything I felt about someone and how he felt about me.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

I Wish I Could Lay Down Beside You...

When you have friends who insist on treating you both fairly and honestly, you can find yourself totally annoyed.

There. I said it out loud.

This is a true story. You have been warned.

I know when a person has given away too much and wants to hold onto something for themselves. I don't even need them to tell me. I can just feel it. I know when a person just wants to have fun and not get too serious and I know when they are lying to themselves and others.

I'm not a witch.

I just know myself.

22 years. That's how long I've been on my own. From the age of 16, I've been either taking care of myself or taking care of others.

This is nothing to get overly excited about it just is what it is.

But now that I've sent off a child to college; now that I've been divorced for a couple of years from a man who really didn't like me let alone love me and now that I have spent the past year dating, I can say:

Sometimes, I have no clue. Not one freaking clue. Not about myself and not about others.

I've met so many peolpe who say that they want x or y when in reality they are still at the start of the alphabet.

And...I've stepped aside to let others choose their own course of action so often that I should really have my picture on a road sign and then I could become part of the DMV test.

I listen to what people around me say and I wonder if they hear themselves. Often the answer is: No. They do not. They talk a great game but they are liars. Or maybe they honestly have no idea what they are doing.

Either way it is a little scary.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Screaming Fire In A Crowded Room...

Then Whispering It's All Really Okay...

A Public Service Announcement.

An accusation of assault is one we should all take very seriously.

Especially since have all been reminded of how we should build 'community' around here...we must stand together, right? Voice our opinions. Tell someone when they have wronged us. If we are told that words hurt, then surely physical acts of violence require even more outrage. Honest outrage. Protection for those who can not protect themselves.

It is the type of accusation that I believe requires all of our attention. Immediately. No one has a right to physically intimate, assault or restrain someone against their will. Period.

I have been a member of a specific 'online community' for five years. I have seen many things go on and I almost always stay out of everyone's way. There is never a time for me to blindly follow a story line. I know the tales people weave to create their images. In real life this sucks. Online it is magnified.

But there are some stories that require a voice to say: No, that is not true.

Friday night was my reminder of that.

While I was speaking to someone who believes that I should have stood up for them against someone's else's words, and while I was accused of being a bad friend by their husband.

I admit it: I lost it.

For 7 months, I have silently watched while fireworks went off around there. Perhaps I should have said something. I don't know. I assumed it would all blow over. But it hasn't.

How do I know? Because this woman voiced something that she and I both know is not true. But this time, she said it directly to me.

She accused someone of assaulting her. Making her fearful. Restraining her. And then she said: They were drunk.

All four statements are not true. I know, because I was there for most of the night that this happened, and two other bloggers caught the 'action' I missed. These two other bloggers were used as a defense again on Friday and yet we all know it isn't true. They never said what she keeps implying.

In fact, I saw all of the parties involved the very next night and saw the post party pics. The accused and the accuser: Smiling. Together.

The post event texts and calls that went on for months after the 'act of violence'. The erotic pictures. Everything.

I saw it all. And I sat back and said: Fuck this. If no one else will say anything, I will go to Paris, I will plan our group's Vegas trip and then I am done talking about this here or there or anywhere. Perhaps I am the only one worrying about this fact vs. fiction and I must stop.

And then on Friday, while I was being accused of being a 'bad friend' to someone I had to remind has no friendship with me outside of the internet, I heard it:

The attack on another blogger.

I'm tired of it. If you're willing to throw this person under the bus. The person you dedicated numerous blog posts to; the person you know you were more than just 'blog friends' with, the person you actively sought out on many occasions, what will you say about your other friends? What are you saying? How often have you repeated this story that you have said, in writing, was an exageration?

The truth is I do not want to find out.


I want this to end. Why? Because it is wrong.

Do you all hear what I am saying? It is wrong to accuse anyone of anything that is not true.

And if you find yourself on the receiving end of accusations and you know you can prove them to be lies, I want you to ask yourselves if we, as a community, have a right to know when one of our own is not honest about things that are relevant to our safety.

Yes, that goes for anyone here who has ever been accused of anything they know is not true: How did this make you feel? Better yet, how does it make you feel now. Time passes, but a betrayal feels the same, right? It never goes away. You look at someone and know they will lie, sometimes to your face, just to keep their standing.

You want to know why I didn't say anything before today? Because I was asked to sit silently even when I knew better.

Perhaps that is the real reason why I shut down my blog there and have been writing elsewhere. I was tired of being told what I could write. What our 'community' wanted to hear.

That's my mistake. I forgot that we all have a voice.

I forgot that when you know someone puts their own place on a virtual perch higher than the safety and integrity of their 'friendships' than everyone loses.

It is wrong to scare people with words. It is wrong to make accusations you know are false.

(originally posted on alternate blog site: 3.27.11)

Friday, March 25, 2011

Rodney King Called...He Says Getting Along Ain't Gonna Happen...

And now...a true case of online bullying:

We read a lot about cyber-bullying now that everyone is everywhere. There is no place to escape from some of the things said about us...or the things we say about others. Things like emails and blog posts and texts can last forever. And often, too often, they can find their way into the hands of people we'd prefer never knew just how mean we are to those around us.

I have thought about this a lot lately because a few weeks ago, I had a series of emails sent out about me by some of my fellow bloggers on a different site. Well, let me not exaggerate - it was not a big group. It was 4 people. Three of them had met me, one had not. One of them was involved in the original conversations, 3 of them chose to involve themselves later.

No, I will not disclose the names. I will only say that it was all much ado about nothing.

I would not rescind an invite to someone who wanted to attend a party. Why? Well, for a few reasons:

1. I didn't extend the offer in the first place;

2. It wasn't my party to say 'no' to;

3. The people being excluded have/had never done anything to me and I had never crossed into their blogging home before I was asked to exclude them. Funny, right? I should dislike people I didn't even know. To not dislike them out of hand meant that I am too dumb to make decisions. It's a wonder I can cross the street. Hold down a job. Raise a kid. Oh, wait....

When the first round of emails arrived in my in-box (they had been sent to a number of other bloggers and never to me until a friend forwarded them) I was surprised that things like my parenting skills; choice of friends; who I sleep with and my job had been tossed into the mix simply because I insisted on staying out of the initial argument...yeah, because it had nothing to do with me.

What was the offense? I refused to take sides.

Not because I am a punk but because it isn't for anyone to demand that I:

1. Choose a side in anything because I make my own decisions;

2. Get others to call or email me to demand that I choose a side or sides (see above item #1);

3. Try to bully me into choosing a side or sides (see above items);

4. Think that talking about me behind my back does anything to actually bother me.

Yes, I know. Bitchy sounding, right?

Yeah, I already heard that I'm not as nice as people think. You are right.

I am not.

Now, I could have easily started posting some of the things said in these back and forth conversations but why bother? I knew that once I stepped away the bullying would find a new venue because that is how it works.

That's why I called bullshit.

I spent my life being popular. Again, bitchy thing to say. I know. My popularity isn't built on anything other than being totally honest. If I don't like something I will tell you. But I will never shout it from a roof-top, I will quietly tell you when no one else is around. Then you get to choose how you want to deal with me. Apparently, adults like honesty. Go figure.

I read something that a brilliant writer wrote last night and I chose to make a reference to one line: No one here is insignificant. Yes, I chose to not focus on the rest of the post.

Every single writer out there has something to say. Every single one. Will you always like it? No, probably not.

But maybe instead of following people around to see where they are commenting, you might consider doing something like sending a private email to someone to ask why they felt a certain way. I dunno, maybe that's just me.

To be honest, I'm an asshole for suggesting it.

It's far easier to set flame to everyone around us than to say: Hey, why do you feel this way?

So I say 'fuck it'. I loved my other blogging place for years. To be honest, there are so many wonderfully gifted writers there that I am sad I can't find any place safe to comment except for a very small group of bloggers. Thanks, said bloggers, for keeping a blanket ready for when I am cold.

But before I finish this ill-formed monologue, let me say this:

Every single one of us has a friend who says things we either wish we could say or wouldn't say but have thought. Don't lie to yourselves because some of you are actually writing posts on behalf of those bloggers right. as. we. speak.

Go ahead and tell me you aren't.

The point? Yes, sometimes things are said that we don't like, or agree with or don't know the reason behind, or, or, or, or.

Find a better way to ask 'why' instead of group-think. That's killed off all civilized communities since the dawn of time.

And another thought: Sometimes, people have something going on in their lives that makes them more susceptible to a rant or an angry word or whatever. Leaping on that person like sheep on steriods is really only going to make matters worse.

It ends up making the 'victim' look like a bully.

And yes, I did go all "Hakuna Matata" on your asses.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Sex, The Single Girl And The World's Largest Adult Site...

Yes, I am an adult site drop-out.

How did this happen? Wait, which part? Well, first, quiet down, it wasn't always a sex site. Then it was. I was there for both personality shifts.

So maybe I was more of an accidental sex site drop in before I was a drop out. We'll work through that later.

Now, since I live in a city that should be a mecca for dating (and isn't), I have learned quite a few things about dating, sex sites and the adult male species. Namely:

Men love attention. Yes, it is true. It is not always sexual attention that they love. Sometimes, they just want to goof off for a few hours telling you stories. True. Stop laughing.

The men on Match, E-harmony, Plenty of Fish, AFF, Ashley Madison, OK Cupid and are all the same.

No, not that they are similar in personalities. They are the same men. Ask any of them. The honest ones will tell you that they are on multiple sites. No, it does not matter if they are married or single. They are branching out, okay?

Don't be a hater.

Men, for the most part, do not seem to have a lot of like-minded male friends after they get married. How does this happen? I’ve got a thesis proposal to submit to Smarty about this.

You'll see women who have friends from childhood. Ask most men who their friends are - the ones they really share deep things with - and they will point to a woman.

This is fine, okay? I'm not saying it isn't. But need male friends and you need to be honest with them. Just letting you know. It just may well extend your lives.

No one...repeat after one wakes up and says: Today I will have an affair.

That is not what these sites are for in the beginning. Just an FYI for you.

Yes, affairs happen, but it is not as simple as most people seem to want to believe. It is not that your husband sucks. Or that you suck. Sorry.

I know that hurts the most. It’s easier to say someone was awful. Well, I’ve now seen it all and even done a lot of it. It’s just not as black or white as we all make it out to be.

A million stories exist out there. Each of us only has our own to tell. Yet, far too often, these sites become places where everyone wants to tell any story but the one they know best.

That’s why I am here. To tell you mine. Why? Well, it isn’t so special and that alone makes it unique.

So yes, I am an adult site drop out. And I am not in any way embarrassed by this. I grew up a lot ‘over there’ and I wouldn’t undo any of it for any reason.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

I Will Not Forsake The Colors That You Bring...

I'm just trying to find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

...Stuck In A Moment; U2

I have been thinking a lot about the idea of passion... How does one define something so vague, so fluid, so too-often out of reach?

Far too often, we find it when we are either least expecting it or when we can least really understand how it will change our lives. But that is the thing, without it, what do our lives really mean?

I love the idea of passion. To be swept away by a feeling. To want to jump, heart first into something. That's what life is about, right? Leaping. To find the beauty in something that perhaps no one else sees.


To be honest, I am not thinking specifically about the passion associated with love or lust, but also the passion we find for things like our careers or destinations or our friends and families.

I find that many people hold just a little bit of themselves back and with that hedging comes, I honestly believe this, an inability to truly leap.

Now, the truth is, I am guilty of this. Yes, I can say it until I am blue in the face, but last night I was reminded of the hedging that I do with people. Even when I simply want to act, I don't always.

It isn't for any other reason than I don't want to impose.

No, that isn't true. Not really. You see, I believe everyone deserves the leap. No one should live a life of grey. There is too much color out there for us to sit in a box and wait for the lid to close on us one day.

But to find that color, that passion, takes trust. Trust that if one day you are without it, that you will be okay. Trust that you deserve it. Trust that it does, indeed, exist. Trust that if you lose it, you will be okay.

To trust in passion.

How wonderfully poetic. To trust in something you can not see.

That's what I want. I remember being in Paris and thinking: I want to feel like this forever. Then I came home and life started to intrude just a little too often and I had to remind myself that I'm capable of passion and color and leaping.

So, to any of you out there who have heard me say you need to find your passion. You deserve it. Next time, call my bluff because so do I.

Besides, this 'awesome search' ain't gonna start itself.

Monday, March 21, 2011

And What It All Comes Down To Is That Everything's Just Fine...

Fine, Fine...
.....A. Morrisette.

I love angst. No, not for myself. Not really.

I don't think I do angst very well. But it does come in handy for those creative types who can take a feeling or a word or a feeling and who can turn that into something with which we can all identify.

Angst can be a good motivator for change.

While I sat here last week wondering what was next on my 'to do' list, I harassed one of my friends who was supposed to be focused on his conference call. DF is funny. He and I have been discussing 'bitter'. He says I am not a bitter person and he is totally right. Then he said that I put the happiness of others ahead of my own. He's right about that, too.

Perhaps he should be less right and focus on getting that new treadmill in his office so he can take walks for both of us. :)

But in reality, for the right people in my life, I will stop everything I'm doing to make sure they are alright. That's what a friend or a lover or a parent does when they care about someone. Right?

Now, the sad fact of the matter is that I have been wanting to write about so much that I can't choose a starting point. I've got a little book filed with notes and each one is like a little lighbulb! YES! perfect blog title. Then. Nothing.

Then it hit me. I am tired of people telling me how awesome I am. Yeah, that's right.

I am tired of hearing it. Sometimes, I feel it's a sort of cop out. Or maybe it feels more like a question. You're so awesome, but.

But how come you haven't. Won't. Don't. Can't. Whatever. You're awesome.

Friday night was interesting. A very good friend of mine came over for pizza and basketball and we discussed our past year. A lot has changed for us and we're on this new kick of feeling really good. Well, that is until I was reminded that I'm not 'dating like a normal girl'. What does that mean, exactly?

It should be enough that I am surrounded by lots of friends, no? That counts as far as I am concerned.

Okay, maybe I don't date in a way that would make it easy to bring some of my friends home to mom. But hey, remember, my mom passed away a few years ago and I really don't think she would be upset at any of my choices. Well, aside from the fact that we weren't close, she also managed to trust my decision making skills more than anyone else's in her life.

So, yeah, I don't date 'like a normal' girl. I date like this girl.

And that's why when it comes down to it, everything's gonna be just fine, fine, fine.

Monday, March 14, 2011

There Is No Grief...

Like the grief that does not speak.
.....Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I am probably one of the world's most shameful Catholics.

It isn't on purpose by any means. I just believe that God really does love all of us, regardless of our views on sexuality, pregnancy and multi- faith beliefs. I know...crazy talk.

That doesn't mean that I don't look forward to Lent.

The chance to get things right. To have a renewal. To learn about yourself. These are just some of the reasons I look forward to this time of year. More than any other Christian holiday, Lent reminds me to stop and focus on who I want to be, not who I have been.

When I was a child, I would give up things like chocolate or gum.

A few years ago I decided to give up intangible things. Well, maybe they aren't truly intangible. Can a change have no form? Maybe, but it still offers intrinsic value, right?

Last year I decided to give up anger for Lent. It was harder than you might imagine. I had to let go of things that upset me and there were times when I forgot that I was supposed to be releasing instead of holding things inside. But, at the end of the process, I did feel a lot less angry. I especially felt less angry about things for which I had no answers. I started speaking just a bit more freely.

That's the things about holding things inside. Once you get used to doing it, you lose a bit of your voice - of yourself.

How sad, right?

This year I am giving up grief. Sure, I wander around smiling. A lot. And laughing. But there are things that have made me sad and once sadness sets in, it can lead to grief. No, it's not always about a physical death. Sometimes an emotional one can be just as hard. If not harder.

And of course, grief holds us back from where we need to be, right?

Right. So that's why I need to learn to let it go.

What I felt while traveling this past January really feels like a sea-change in my life and I just really want it to be who I am always. Not just a few weeks out of the year.

So...40 days of getting rid of a new tangible intangible.

This could be the start of a whole new trend. Or not.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Happiness Is...

Anyone and anything that's loved by you.
.....Charlie Brown

I remembered this morning that my new blog was supposed to have a focus.

Of course, that seems like a lot of pressure. I mean, who is to say what focus looks like these days, right?

I was just talking to a friend and I asked him when he had his first kiss. He said, 13. I said: Oh, now I feel sort of slutty. Thanks, DF. :)

My first kiss took place on a really chilly (by San Diego standards) May day. I was 5 and so was J.

We were best, best, best, friends. I mean, like totally best friends. We did everything together. We went trick or treating together and we played in the dirt together and we caught frogs near the local swimming pool together. His mom would make us peanut butter cookies every Saturday morning while we watched cartoons.

Our moms were best friends and we all lived in the same apartment complex. In fact, J lived right across the courtyard from me so we would wake up every morning and run to the window to yell out the plans for our day.

Those plans usually included: Playing outside until the streetlights came on. Very rough schedule. Good times.

On the morning of my first-ever kiss, J and I were getting ready to see THE movie of the decade. Or our 5 short years. Star Wars had just opened and we were probably really annoying with our excitement. I don't remember the annoying part. I just remember knowing that we were about to see something fantastic.

On the way to the car, J stopped me and handed me a piece of candy for the ride. Then he kissed me. Our moms were watching this and asked us to do it again because they wanted a pic. So, 33 years later, I still have that pic of J and I and our first kiss.

It was magical. I mean, it included everything a girl could ask for, right? Candy, a movie to end all movies and her best friend.

Who wouldn't want to remember such a perfect first kiss, right?

J and I check in once a year and we talk about what we've done for the year. He's such a great guy and has a really fantastic family. Of course, he thinks I have this great life here in NYC. I swear those San Diegans need to get out more.


Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Yeah, That Raven Had It Right...Nevermore, Indeed.

I was picking up A last night and she was telling me about her night.

She hadn't seen some of these friends since last August.

Lots to talk about. Most of A's friends are like my own kids. They call me mom. I used to think it odd when her friends would add me to their facebook profiles, until 2 years ago when I was alone on my birthday. Every single one of them texted or called to say: Happy Birthday, mom. Yeah. Not one forgot.

Many of these kids have, at some point, lived with us. I know all of their parents and I trust A with each one of them.

Trust is big for me. I take so long to build it that I hate to have it broken.

I told A about my new home here and she read the recent posts. She's more of a fan-fiction writer, but she likes to see how I say things as opposed to what I say.

She asked me about Red's trip. And we talked about Smarty and GG meeting R. She thought that meant I really like these ladies. I do. A knows that she and R are the last 2 people I have others meet if I can help it.

A thought I should explain why. I thought not. Then I got a text last night that made me think it's just sometimes easier to ignore things until you can't.

When I was 6, my mom and step-dad divorced. I loved B more than the moon or Mickey Mouse or Shaun Cassidy. With him in my life, I had a total feeling of being loved and protected. Having spent the first 3 years with my grandparents, my mom was a stranger to me. But B always made me feel like I mattered.

I remember sitting on his lap on the last day my mom and I were going to be in Lafayette. I was crying and asked B not to leave. I can remember being ‘that’ kid. You know the one. The one who says they will be the best kid ever if their parents would just stay together. B looked at me and said: I never really loved you; I was just staying close to you because of your mom.

Six-year old me hopped off of his lap, went to finish packing my toys and never told anyone what he said. I didn’t say good bye to him, I don’t even remember actually crying. I just sort of dealt. When you had a mom like mine that was the best way. Four years later when my uncle died, B called the house to offer his condolences to my mom. He called twice and each time I hung up the phone as soon as I recognized it was him.

On the third try, my mom answered. She and B talked for hours that day and I went outside to play. When I got home my mom asked me why I didn’t want to talk to him and I refused to tell her. Then my grandmother called and asked the same question. I finally spilled and let it out. They both called B and he drove to San Diego from Lafayette to apologize.

By that time I guess I had decided it couldn’t matter. I could trust myself and I could trust my grandparents.

And that is why, all of these years later I hold A and R up as the ultimate test of what I think of someone. If you meet them or I tell you to check them out on FB or listen to something they’ve done, you are in. Probably forever. Sometimes it seems like there is no rhyme or reason, but there is. It’s just a feeling.

Last night A told me that I should just say it and be clear about why I am like this: I know that I will never let her down so I protect her from anyone who might.

See what a text from someone who says they love you will get you to thinking about when all you want to do is eat ice cream?

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

"These Bitches Are Not My Friends"...

Odd title for a posting on "International Women's Day", right?

Well, not really.

Last night someone asked me to be really, really honest about why I am a sex-site drop out (note to self: title of next post is in the bag).

I hedged. I hemmed. I deflected. I lied.

Then I said:

Those people were not my friends.

Let me clarify:

Many were. No, many are. They are my friends. My family. The people I talk to daily if not weekly.

I love them all, which means I love many of you because many of you now watching came from 'there'.

You are a witty, intelligent bunch and I have learned so much from you. Thanks.

But you know me too well.

The truth is that I should have left that site when I fell in love with Chato. I didn't. Did that play a role in our 'where we are now' story? No, it did not.

I stayed because I had so much I thought I needed to say. In all honesty, I'm often so vague that most people probably didn't even know what I was talking about half the time.

But life was good. My blog supplemented me in many ways. Between love, work and regular old life, I was happy. Fulfilled.

Then Chato and I had the 'great Austin trip of 2010' and I was thrown for a loop. I had no fucking idea what to do next. I cried. I didn't eat. I doubted myself. What the hell was wrong with me? I didn't even know. I just knew that I wanted to write through it.

I tried my hand at dating and came away thinking perhaps I sort of suck at it on some level. But no worries, I still blogged through it. I just didn't name names. Maybe the truth was that I wasn't ready. My heart couldn't be in it. How could it, you know?

And then all hell broke out.

Everywhere I went, people told ME who I was seeing. How did they know? I'll tell you. One person. One person kept telling people everything I was up to, based on what she 'thought' was going on. It's like having a stalker, but better. Was she sharing the news because she cared about me? Nah, lol. If you ask her on a good day she will tell you she can't stand me.

Now, a stalker has no idea what you're really doing. A 'better than' thinks she's got you one-upped.

Cue the eye rolls.

One day, right after Paris, I called my friend and said: Enough. No Mas. I don't want to do this anymore. This blogging thing. I will go to Vegas. Then I never want to see most of those people again. Why? They are not our friends. Or science projects. They don't care if I am happy or sad. Working or not. Keeping to my training schedule or sitting on my couch. They care about silly things like 'top blogger' and who is sleeping with who this week.

They just don't care about anything but themselves. I don't think those things are important.

And then I felt great. Like the sun was all happy to see me again. And I told Red and Smarty and a few others and then I came here. And I designed my space and I sent out notes saying: Come join me if you wanna.

And then I said: I will no longer write things that sound vague. I will write what I want to because I deserve this after years of holding onto feelings because everyone else might be hurt or upset or not understand.

Yeah, that's right. I deserve this freedom to hang out with my friends (you) and say what I feel.

How else can I write about this 'awesome' search? Huh? How? that's right. I can't.

I don't even know if it has been, or will be, awesome. Hell, I don't even think there is a search going on. If there is, it's for what to wear to Yoga tonight.

But either way. I like my new home. Stick around while I decorate, ok?

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Resistance Is Futile...Or Is It?

I've spent four years blogging on a sex site.

Did I hide that I was there? Honestly, no. Everyone who knows me either read my blog or at least knew of it. Even my best friend, R, who says he didn't realize 'what' kind of site it was, knew. Silly R.

I learned so much there.

I bet I could blog for another four years and still not be able to really express what I learned.

Some of the highlights include:

When you put women together in any forum, they will bond. Once they bond, honestly, they will share stories about the men around them. Then the real truth comes out.

Many people do not want to cheat on their spouses sexually. They want to talk. They want to dream. They want to be heard. The sex, in many cases, comes after the walls of conversation come down. But it usually is not an indicator of how they feel for their spouse. Yes, this is true even when they fall in love with someone else. Maybe the love changes, but there is still love. Hard to believe, right? Yes, you can demonize people until you understand: They are people.

People want to be heard. In any format. They want to know that their stories are important.

As much as I have written about the need for women to support each other, when they erroneously begin to believe that there is only one man out there for them, they will lose friendships over the perception of who that man is. That is very sad.

It is even sadder when they think they have to become like someone else to attract that man. Sad, indeed.

There are people who are deeply depressed. They put on a 'face' for the public then tell the world how popular they are; how they are a queen bee; how they are a semi-celebrity. The truth? We are human. Nothing more, nothing less. Creating an online persona you can not sustain offline is not good for anyone. It will make you sad. See the theme here?

There is much less sex going on than we all imagine. More to the point, there is much less intimacy. That may be even worse.

Sex sites are nothing more than a place where 'supposedly like-minded people' can get together. They join for one reason, leave for another but usually stay because they learn something about themselves. And it isn't that they want the ease of a quick hook-up.

Yes, I learned a lot. I'd even say that I grew up a bit. Thanks, sex site, for letting me use your site as a playground for learning. I promise to put all that new knowledge to good use.

And yes, I used a quote from the Borg. That's what being there felt like sometimes.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

I Am A Woman With A Mission And A Past To Undo...

A is home from school. That's always a cause for celebration. I haven't seen her since January 5th.

This is the longest time in our lives that we have gone without seeing each other. She decided to skip spring break with her friends to come back to NYC. She says she was 'mom sick'. Good, because I was "A sick".

On the ride home today we talked about kids. A says she doesn't want any. Ever. I say that is totally ok, but she's too young to decide that.

I never thought I'd have kids. I was afraid I'd be a terrible mom. Then A came along and we raised each other. The relationship I have with her and R are my two longest partnerships.

A never met my mom. As much as I loved my mom, I chose to come across country to get away from her. And her insanity. As I got older, I learned to have patience for her, but that didn't extend to my buying a plane ticket to San Diego.

After she died I went through all of my baby pics to show A how childhood in the 1970s looked.

One of my favorite pics is of me and my mom in what I thought was a moment right after childhood. My entire life I thought of that picture as me and my mom after our first few minutes together.

I guess I romanticized it.

As an adult, I learned that no, that wasn't right. That picture was of me and my mom when I was about 4 months old. Right when she had the first of many breakdowns. It put my childhood and its chaos into perspective.

Here was this woman who, at 27, had planned to have a child for years. Then, when I came along, she wasn't prepared.

Sometimes, I get very defensive when I feel my parenting is called into question by people who don't know me and A on any sub-superficial level.

I think the reason is because I have raised both myself and an awesome daughter.

One who could go anywhere she wanted this week. And where she wanted to be was home. With her mom.

She puts my life into the kind of perspective no other relationship can. For that I am always going to be thankful. And spoil her.

(post title: "So have I for you"...Nikka Costa)

Friday, March 4, 2011

And Then...A New Start.

I thought about posting this really great intro. Then I deleted it.

Then I posted a mediocre entry and yes, deleted it.

The truth is that I am not sure how to start this new blogging life so I am just going to dive in.

I'm clueless.

A good friend of mine recently said that I am "consistently inconsistent, securely insecure, and genuinely human". She's right.

The truth is that I'd love to be Wonder Woman. I'm not.

The truth is that I'd also love to be able to say that I am the only person who has ever had a love turn to something else. That I am the only person who can't get certain things right. The only person who sometimes wants everything to stop for a few minutes while I figure out what's happening.

The truth is that I'm not Atlas. I don't have to carry the world on my shoulders. I learned this in therapy.

No, I starting learning this when my daughter, who was five at the time, said: You don't have to be perfect.


She was right. But I still kept trying. Right through to a second marriage to someone I knew wasn't right. My heart told me that we were great as boyfriend and girlfriend but that marriage would change all of that. I was right. Unfortunately, 9/11 created a lot of marriages. Some great. Some not.

We made great roomies. I just felt we needed to be able to be more to each other.

Then...March 2008. My whole world changed. I tried to fight it but sometimes you really are at destiny's mercy.

Fast forward to today and I have learned something very valuable: You can never 'unlearn' things you wish you never knew.

You can't unlearn that you aren't loved. You can't unlearn that your passions lie in a different direction than someone you love. You can't unlearn that sometimes love just isn't going to answer all of your questions. Even if on many levels it puts your heart at ease. There are so many things that so many of us can't ever unlearn. I am sorry.

It isn't my fault, but I'm still sorry.

Where did I learn all of this? On an adult site. Why? That's where I was when my life changed.

To be honest, I am not singular. I know many people who can tell you the same story. Some of them are my friends. Some are not.

I don't have to worry about their stories here. I only have to, for the first time in years, worry about my own. It's spastic, honest, brutal and silly. But what it will try not to be...for vague.

And that may be the scariest part about this.