Look At All The Pretty Stars...

When I started blogging a few years ago I was just trying to figure out what was important to say and what wasn't.

There are times where I am still trying to figure that out, but I think I've gotten just a little bit better and the trick was to be honest.

Too often, as writers, people get in the habit of saying what they think the reader wants to hear. Me?

I am happy to report that I am a mess of emotions at any given time. I worry about A and my friends; I wonder if I am making the right career decisions, or education decisions, or even triathlon training decisions.

I wonder where the world will be in a few years and how we've gotten to where we are now.

And I wonder if people want to know the real story on any of us or are they happy to just go along with whatever illusion we paint.

Me? I just want to say that I don't always know what's next, only that I believe I am capable of accepting it and adjusting.

I'm moving, yet again.

Through luck, or kismet or sheer coincidence, I have two people in my life who expect me to get better at this writing stuff and it's time for a blog home change. It's okay because I've been working on the graphics here for so long that I'd like to see how the other half lives. The truly creative half.

So, ladies and gentleman, wordpress it is.

But I need some help:

Do I want to be Bubblevishious there or BubblesDeux? This is big. I took both names earlier because I am greedy.

But I'm branding, bitches, and need your help.

I mean, I'm branding, friends, and need some input. :)

So...what do you think?

Ladies and Gentleman, Mr. Jimmy Ruffin...

As I walk this land of broken dreams,
I have visions of many things.
Love's happiness is just an illusion,
Filled with sadness and confusion.
What becomes of the broken hearted?

I wasn't going to write this, but then I woke up and realized I'm a little tired. I think part of it is that I am exhausted from Sunday and if that triathlon wore me out, then in 20 days, I might be put on bed rest.

Part of it is that I have grown weary of people spinning the public relations machines for other people and part of it is that I just don't care to pretend anymore.

I'm watching a good friend lose his marriage it makes me sad because he is sad.

No matter how many times I hear his wife say that I hate her, or that I spread lies about her or, or, or, it doesn't matter.

Why? Because people have a right to believe what they want. They also have a right to say what they want, as long as they keep it away from me.

I've chosen to stay away from her words because I want to be able to say, honestly, that I have no idea what she's talking about when she posts on AFF.

I've listened to her husband tell me how much he loves his wife and family and I feel for them both. I want to say it's going to be okay, but what does that really mean?

The truth is, I've tried to be completely unbiased and keep saying that his wife has a right to be happy and he should respect that. We aren't who we were at 18 or 19 or 20. And there is nothing wrong with that. It is empowering to admit that we change and that our needs become something we might not have imagined.

I have to respect someone who says: I am not happy, and this will be for the best.

Maybe right now it doesn't seem like the best for all, but honestly, who gets to decide that? Only the people making the decision.

So, while I'm told how I feel, or what I think or what I'm saying, the truth is, people have every right to be happy.

Sometimes, the balance between self and family can't be found. That's sad, but there are ways to make sure that promises kept aren't all broken.

But this is why the AFF-y is not for me, I've grown tired of reading too many stories about too many breakups or too many people who don't realize that you can read a person's 'intent' in their words. For years in some cases.

Even if they can't.

If therapy has taught me nothing else, it has taught me to be honest about how important it is to follow your heart.

And that goes for people I love and people who are just passing by in life.

Bobby Womack Called And He Wants To Tell You Something...

I wanna dedicate this song to all the lovers tonight
And I expect that might be the whole world
Because everybody needs something or someone to love
....If You Think You're Lonely Now, 1981

I thought last year was about lessons.

It wasn't. It was about being prepared to grow.

Wait. Isn't that a lesson?

Yes, I guess it is.

About 20 years ago, I made a decision to spend every year learning something different. I don't know why, at 18, this seemed so important, but it did.

I have studied religions, languages, the Vietnam War, presidential elections, water rights in third world countries and architecture.

You name it, and I've either spent a year learning about it, or I want to.

My friends call me 'The Oracle', but in reality, I'm just a girl who thinks the world is inspirational.

I never want to be complacent in my own life.

Last year I went out and met people I might not have otherwise found a reason to engage.

Some I have loved, others I have not. But in all of the cases, I have learned.

I have had an opportunity to be a friend to some people and had them return the kindness and we've all grown from the experience.

I have watched people write about their feelings but not talk about them; I've seen people act out their feelings and not accept that they are not being fair to those around them.

And I have learned.

I have learned what it means to say you're someone's friend and actually live the words. It is life-changing.

There have been a couple of times recently where I have been asked to 'be there' and each time, I have surprised myself by how willing I was to do it.

Last year, I hesitated because I worried about how things would look. Now?

When you know the truth about something, maybe that makes it easier to act. Or maybe I just made that up.

I'm finishing off a series on love on AFF because it feels like my class there is about to graduate.

And I think that is amazingly wonderful.

Here I Am, On A Cloud...

As I drift through the sky
Shooting cupid's arrow you just might try
So don't miss baby, take your time
.....Erykah Badu, 4 Leaf Clover



I went out to find the ever elusive 'North County Trail' today and found success!

I found the 1 mile mark on the south end of the trail and unpacked my bike for a ride. I got a few miles in before I hit some flooding so I took that as a sign that it was time to go home.

Or at least to the book store.

It's funny: When I ride my bike I prefer to have nothing going on around me but the sound of my breathing, birds and the cadence of my spokes turning. It's so very unlike when I go for a run. Maybe because I often want to pretend I'm not running, or running somewhere else, I find that it's better to have music playing, or at least a song in my head.

Lately, it's been 'Jesus of Suburbia' for some reason.

But the other day it was 'our song'.

I remember the day I was walking to work while on the phone with 'The One'. Erykah Badu had just finished playing on my iPod and it hit me that I was in love. That's probably the first time that I said 'I love you' even though I knew how he had felt for weeks, or maybe months.

Even now, I love him.

Yesterday I realized how angry I am at him. Because he thought I was hiding something, he set out to find someone else, then spent a year hiding it.

Yes...the man I call 'The One' had a girlfriend for a year, while saying to me that I didn't love him enough. While arguing with me that we needed time apart. While telling me we were meant to be together. Forever.

Sometimes I don't really know what I think about this. I have been married twice and both husbands found other loves while with me. Perhaps that is my role in life: To help people find what they need.

I thought I was over the affairs of my exes, but while I was supposed to be focused on my training, it hit me for a moment that all the while I had a feeling that something was off last year, I didn't think it was another woman. I thought it was me.

Now I know it was us. That's not any easier in many ways, but it is more balanced.

I've had a lot of dating, romance and love in my life, but as I was trying to remember which way to head downhill on my bike today, I got a little hit of fear in my head about what's next.

My girlfriends here want to set me up, but I'm not interested.

Even people that I like say that I don't seem to be all that into them and maybe it's true or maybe I'm much more cautious about relationships without even realizing it.

Sort of like riding downhill. I keep the breaks at the ready, just in case. I spend probably way too much time scanning between my front tire and the road ahead, waiting for something to happen: A rock, a bad road, a chipmunk or even another cyclist. With all this preparation, I'm still not enjoying the ride downhill, which sucks because I worked so hard to ride uphill and reach the crest.

I hear that to be a better cyclist takes practice...a lot like being a better partner in a relationship.

I'm starting to forget where Tri training starts and relationship building starts.

And I'm Not Sorry...It's Human Nature...

I'm not your bitch, don't lay your shit on me.
.....Madonna

It is so funny that as children we played lots of 'Truth or Dare.'

I'd like to think that we would have been better served playing 'Truth and Consequences.'

My AFF experience has been interesting. Thankfully, I have a fast learning curve.

I have seen a lot of people hold other people's hands while they do things that should probably cause embarassment or at least a self-inflicted time out of sorts.

What are consequences? A few years ago, I fell in love with someone other than my husband. The consequences were that I was forced to tell A, my friends, family and some co-workers. The story is more than one person being lonely or sad or any one thing. My husband hated me. I am sure of this because he told me. It still does not mean my actions were right.

My affair meant that I opened myself up to consequences...ultimatums.

If I wanted to stay married, I would have needed to agree to counseling; to give up my best friend because he supported me; to cut off contact with 'The One' and to guve up a lot of friends, my writing and ultimately, my freedom. Why? Well, because I no longer deserved the freedom. As my then husband said...I had abused it.

Instead, I chose to leave the marriage. He didn't love me and while we were together, I did not love myself. The consequence of that decision? I had to be willing to stand on my own.

The result? A and I are happier than ever. But I still paid the price of my action. Even the people who supported me reminded me that I should have, could have, etc. And they were right. I didn't always want to hear it, but I still listened.

Why? Well, I don't want friends who only tell me I am great. I am not always. I make mistakes. I own them and learn from them.

On the Internet, we can create a godliness like no other place would allow.

Recently, I was reminded of how even when one person steps up and says: there are consequences for your actions...someone else will fill the ass kissing void.

How sad. I know what people say about others behind the scenes and then I see what they say in public. Coddling is a terrible thing.

But I should thank the coddlers because when it is noticed, I can usually fill the time that would have been spent with the coddler with other, less passive aggressively supportive activities.

All because I believe that bitching about this shit isn't enough. You have to be willing to say that actions have to have consequences, an apology only counts when it is from the heart and not covering repetitive bad behavior, and your own role in the repeat offenses needs to be reviewed and, if needed, corrected.

'The One' once wrote a blog about what was happening with my marriage. My husband wanted out, but he waited for me to act. Suicide by cop. How unfair to make someone else miserable because you are unhappy. It is even more awful to watch the train wreck and not at least dial 911.

Hello, God, Are You There...

It's me. Bubbles.

Where have you been? What have you been doing?

Oh, you've been busy? Right, I know. The world is a crazy place, isn't it. Oh, yeah, you already know that.

What do I want? Oh, not much.

I'm just sort of checking in. Thanks for taking care of A this weekend while she was on time off from work.

Yes, I know that I forget to say 'thanks' to you. It's so hard, you know? I can't take communion at church, you know. Yes, I am quite aware that this isn't your fault. But they are doing it in your name.

So I don't really go to visit you there all that often. Well, aside from work. Does that count? I sort of hope so.

My friends can't get married in your house, either. Again, not your fault. But it's done in your name.

And we're still at war. In two countries. Still. In your name. Or your brother's. Whatever. Same difference.

Dear God, are you watching over 'The One'? Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get over the past few weeks. I am trying.

But I'm still worried. I worry about a lot of things. But right now I'm worried about him. He's stubborn. Never admits to being wrong, or even wronged.

And I hear the stories and I don't believe, but I do. So, if you think about it, check on him. Plus, Chicago has a new mayor and I hear he's doing a good job so it should be a nice trip for you.

Can you also watch over my sister? She's making a mistake. Again. But she's one of those people that must learn things the hard way.

Check in on my friends, please. And my family. And since you're at it, may as well check in on everyone else around the world.

Me?

You still want to know what I want? I don't know.

Maybe I'll just figure it out as I go along. Is that okay? It isn't so bad, you know, not waiting for someone else to come along and figure things out.

Besides, I know that when I want to come visit one of your houses, wherever they are, you'll be cool with it.

For now, training has been my 'religion' of sorts. Oh! I should say thanks for giving me a body that moves. There, I think I've gotten it all out.

But if you do visit Chicago, can you just let it know that it will always be in my heart? It's just that kind of city.

Thanks.

(an open letter to God, just in case she has internet access)

The Road Has Got Me Hypnotized...

And I'm spinning into a new sunrise...
"Radar Love', Golden Earring.

I was showering this morning when it finally hit me:

I'm an athlete.

I'm not fast; or built in a traditional way; I don't come by running, biking or swimming easily; and sometimes I have no idea what I'm doing...

But I'm an athlete.

In coming to sports later in life, maybe there is just a bit more of an appreciation for just how much one has to juggle to fit it all in.

My schedule looks crazy. Everything that I eat has to play a role in giving me energy, or recovery or whatever. But it's making eating so much easier for some reason for the first time ever. The stress of regular life has to take a back seat because otherwise, it will affect training.

When I was running a few years ago, I always downplayed the work. Oh, sure, I'm a 'runner', but hey, anyone can do it.

Or so I kept saying. And on many levels it is true.

But this time around feels new. For the first time, this isn't about someone else's splits, it's about mine. It has little to do with someone else telling me I can do it. But it has everything to do with knowing, on my own, that I can. It's so very scary to be accountable to yourself, but it's also quite empowering. Today, I could feel the strut before I realized it was happening. Yeah, I just finished another 10 miles on the bike. And yes, I do have 6 days of training planned next week. Watch. Me. Work. It.

I have a friend who is training for one of the same triathlons I am doing. He says my enthusiasm is infectious. This from a 'real' Ironman.

Something tells me he'd say I'm the real deal, too. His coaching is a tremendous motivation. And I try to remember to tell him all the time. Hell, your motivation (yes you, out there) is even more inspiring. Thank you.

My heart broke this week in a way I never thought possible. The more I write about 'The One', the more I was missing him. And the more I continue where 'we' are at the moment, the more I just want to train. Am I training away a person or a thing? No, not at all. I’m training ‘in’ myself.

Train. Goodbye. Grow. Start all over until the goodbye part is gone.

Yeah, this can be done.

(image from seriousrunning.com)

One. Awesome. Search.

It took me forever to decide what to title this blog.

Then it took even longer to figure out a tagline. My blurb. An intro.

What is awesome?

I still don't always know.

But I went with it anyway.

And then I began writing a cast of characters and people said...well, how did you find 'The One' and I realized...well, I didn't make it clear. How did he get his name? Uh, it wasn't always 'The One'. For the longest time it was 'Chato', but I didn't want to use that here.

I wanted to start from scratch.

But having someone called the one implies an end. Yet there isn't one. There is, as always, a cast of characters to work through. Real people. Real feelings. Real stories. Real joy. Real pain.

So yes, there is 'The One', and it is just part of the full story. One I didn't have a road map to tell until I realized that I get to make the map.

X marks the spot.

Oh, I Know Something About The Ways Of Love...

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
.....Oingo Boingo

A is home for a one night only appearance. I was happy she was leaving for camp, now I am happy she is home. She is working with an older group of girls this year so her time spent at camp will be slightly different.

For one thing, the older girls say goodbye in different ways than the younger girls.

Older girls know camp will happen again next year and so goodbye is not forever. Younger girls think this is it. The last goodbye.

It usually isn't.

But A is smart because she knows sometimes it is.

It is funny how memories cloud goodbyes. Some people see a time of joy while others see pain and still others see a combination.

This week has become a week of goodbyes. Red says it means something else is opening. I feel like I have tried, on many levels, to let life be. Maybe I have simply over-estimated my role or non-role.

But here we are...

Smarty asked what I wanted. I want to train. I went swimming tonight and tomorrow is a long bike ride day. She asked how I do it. I made a joke.

The truth? I am training my way through goodbyes. I hadn't realized it until I was in the pool tonight. I have spent the last year asking people to be who they are, and accepting.

And it was wonderfully enlightening.

Goodbyes. It is how I first got started as a runner. I needed to say goodbye to my mother after she died, then a marriage, now...the past year.

And now it is time for a more iron-centered focus. And an apartment search. And to go back to letting life just 'be'. And, like the younger and older girls at camp, I will just be reminded that there is often more to come. Next year.

And working through all those goodbyes. Like at camp each year. Goodnight, A. Goodnight, blog. See you tomorrow.

'Cause Everyone's Heart Doesn't Beat The Same...

I just recently starting ramping up my triathlon training. I have been good about sticking to my schedule. Right now, I'm running about 25 miles a week; biking another 20 and doing daily strength training routines. Last night, I added swimming.

Or tried.

It seems that I have forgotten how to swim. Apparently, it's been enough years that my arms don't know what to do; my feet don't seem to want to kick; my heart rate never got down to a normal pattern during my laps and I have forgotten to breathe out while above water, not breathe in while I am under.

But I'm going back tonight. Yes, right after I do another round trip to drop off A at camp, and then a five mile run, I will be back in the pool for an hour. What will I accomplish? I am not sure yet. Perhaps it isn't always about accomplishments, but rather an effort. Sounds like a metaphor for my dating life this past year. It often feels like I have never gotten so much wrong all at once before, but maybe I am simply romanticizing some memory or another.

I went to see 'The Actor' over the weekend. He is in my favorite play right now and I made the trip down to cheer him on, and, on some level, to see what we felt after 10 months of not seeing each other.

Funny...ask anyone and they will say he adores me. He does. And I him. Total love. But sometimes, people live their lives doing what they want and they don't always remember there are other people in the universe.

Ask us why we stopped seeing each other and I will say that he did something that he knew would hurt me. He will say I held a grudge because of it. We would both be right.

On Saturday morning he told me the truth about his new girlfriend. She worships him. She believes he is perfect. His words, verbatim. And he doesn't like it. But he does accept it.

His issue with me? I don't. My feelings for him are based on knowing he is human. That's not the same. And I get it.

I left MD on Saturday and cried on the way home. Or at least until NJ. Why? Because this is me. The woman who loves people for their flaws and their perfections. How else can I be honest with anyone? I don't want a god. I want an equal.

'The Actor' is my friend, but on Saturday morning, even though I know he loves me...he made me remember why I was afraid to see him.  I was worried he would do or say what he knew would hurt the most, and I was afraid I wouldn't know how to feel.

Sadly, I felt just what I was supposed to, I guess.

I was reminded of the day my ex-husband told me that it wasn't that he didn't love me, it was that his mistress made him feel like a king.  I did not.  He told me he was torn between us.  I asked if he loved her and he said he wasn't sure.  So I told him to be with her.  To treat her well.  To be honest.  Why? I guess it is because I don't ever want to force a choice and have someone regret their decision. I have a lot of stories like this. One day, I won't have to say this to someone. I am sure of this.

But anyway, back to now. Even with someone you love, sometimes you just have to step back and be prepared to be a friend when, and if, they need you.

Even if you end up being the odd person out.  Or especially when.

I guess I am a far better friend than a lover. That's not such a tragedy, you know?

So tonight, I'm off to swim. I expect to be in the pool every night for the next four weeks. Why? Because I am all heart, even when I am very little skill.

Oh, wow, this does sound like a metaphor for my love life.

And that's not such a bad thing, either.

(image from funny-potato.com)

Maybe You Will Always Be...Just A Little Bit Out Of Reach...

Usually, at this time of year, I am returning from my trip to Chicago. I love the city during "Taste of Chicago" because it was there that I truly knew what it meant to be falling in love with "The One".

This year...I went to DC for a day and saw "The Actor", but more on that later.

Now, I want to talk about what was happening around this time last year.

I had just seen 'The One' for a few days and we talked about all that had gone wrong and all that had gone right. I told him that when I left Chicago, I would be doing it as a single person. That I thought we should take time to think about what we wanted or needed, but that the only place I really wanted to be was with him. I also mentioned that I was still having the trust issues of him having left me in Austin and I needed time to work on this.

Meanwhile, back at home, both 'The Prince' and 'The Actor' were checking in on me. I think they knew how hard it was for me to be in Chicago.

While I was driving back to New York, my cell phone started going off like crazy. None of the texts were really to me, but rather, about 'The Prince'. Our hostess from Maryland was trying to figure out how she could find time alone with him in DC at our next blogger bash and people kept asking me how to answer. To be honest, I wasn't sure. No one realized that he and I had agreed to share a room with 'The Actor' and one other blogger, and I didn't want to be the one telling everyone so I just said: It will work out. I honestly believed it would be just fine.

And there it started...weeks of learning that regardless of if we called it a blogger bash or a swinger's party or a rodeo in the outback, people made plans to be with people and then hid the plans. People cried and they manipulated and they told strange stories to get others to do what they wanted.

One gentleman asked if I would be his birthday present...

Yeah...exactly. And that's all good, except, knock on wood, I didn't go to these parties to hook up. Ask Smarty, I was always upset because I was trying to get out of them. They weren't fun for me. They were work. And frustrations. And lots of other things. But I am a firm believer that no one else had to know about this, at least not the guests.

So, here we were, in the weeks leading up the DC Blogger Bash and all I wanted was to be far away from it. Now there is a weekend I wish I could un-do and never do again.

But, wait, that's a story for later. For the time being, 'The Actor' and I were having a blast doing the silliest of things like museums and making popcorn and sharing stories about our mis-spent youth. Ahh, what a start to summer it was...Oh, and I was quite sure ‘The Prince’ was in love, or something like it, with our hostess, and that she felt the same.

And there is the story you won’t hear in the Grease-edition.

A Year In A Blogger's Life...Part 1.

Just the other day, Smarty wrote a post about the night that we met.

I can't believe it has been over a year. And what a year it has been. I am so torn. Undo all of last year? Do it all over again exactly as it happened? Change some things and not others? Who the fuck knows at this point?

But last June that was all just a future memory. You see, I was off to Maryland to meet Red and Smarty and I couldn't have been more excited. Well, let me not exaggerate. I didn't want to go to Maryland. Not really. I had a bad feeling about the party. I wasn't sure why, except that having been on AFF for so long, I think I was pretty good about reading online 'people' there and I didn't want to meet our hostess, 'The Princess'. From her blog, which I only read because 'The Prince' said I should check it out, I thought that we had little in common and even less of a reason to meet than my friend Smarty thought.

Plus, I know I can be quite definite about people I spend time with, especially when I have to pay for things like hotels, etc., but hey, I was about to meet my girls! I remember calling 'The Actor' and after having said 'no' to him for almost a year, I said 'yes'.

And that's how we ended up going to 'The Hostess's' party together, but not really. You see, he had warned me that he would be busy playing party host that night so I shouldn't be too upset if we hardly saw each other. I laughed because clearly this guy didn't know me.

Then I called 'The Prince' and said...wanna? The truth is that he and our hostess had something going on that I couldn't explain. I'd seen some of the emails and texts and posts about each other and I sort of thought it was comical, or even not really real, until I saw it in person.

Before even arriving in Maryland, I learned that our hostess had lied to her husband about who our fair Prince was. That led to a nice chain of events, which is why so many of us don't speak anymore.

But on that night, I was out with a bunch of bloggers who had never done a 'blogger bash' before. Having done a ton of them, I was totally prepared to do very little. Oh, sure, I played kissing games, and drank, and collected business cards from the couples at the party, but for the most part, I watched.

I watched "Brother Dom", as Smarty calls him, and his wife try to decide what they were doing; I watched Red, the smartest of the bunch, sit in her chair on the lawn and watch the nuttiness. I watched 'The Prince' and 'Brother Dom's' wife come out of a room, clearly having hooked up, then I gasped as Mrs. Dom kissed me on the lips and said 'thanks' for the time with good old Prince. Uh, you’re welcome?

Then, later that night, as 'The Actor' and I stood in the kitchen together talking, 'The Prince' walked up to me, kissed me and told me that he and our hostess had gone 'swinging' as it were. Smarty says she doesn’t get why this happened (uh, because we’re dealing with swingers?) because Prince was my boyfriend. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

Congrats! The story can end here, right? Everyone is happy. Our Hostess is about to become very popular; Prince got what he wanted; I liked the Actor more than I had expected to and Smarty and Red were real life girls now and we could plan our world-wide takeover.

Nope, sillies. Nope. You see, by the middle of the night, Hostess’s husband was not in a good mood; her best friend was still upset over a fight they had before all of the guests arrived; The Actor was passed out on Scotch; Brother Dom was in a room, in tears, with me trying to cheer him up; Smarty’s husband had met someone who seemed to like him way, way, too much for later comfort and I was exhausted from driving through the entire state of MD, twice, lol.

Oh...and then the morning came. Our Hostess overheard someone say that Prince Charming had actually come with me, not with Red. Gasp! Now I have to listen to her tell our breakfast table, over and over again, how he knocked her nose ring out; then I got to hear her husband tell me how she lied to him about Prince's real deal. She had told her husband he was Red's date. Hubby was smart enough to know there was a lie, just not what to do about it. So I apologized because none of us wanted anything other than a fun weekend. He said I was being silly. I decided I liked him and wanted to be friends forever.

Oh...and while all was well in the world...Brother Dom was looking at bruises on his wife and allowing a new story to brew: That we had an angry black man in our circle who left marks on his wife. He later decided to admit that wasn't what happened, but not before he wrote a post about it accusing the Prince of some un-charming behavior. Recently, our Hostess said I demanded that the post be removed. Wrong-o. I asked Brother what really happened and he told me. Then he and Prince talked and Brother removed the post on his own. However, I think the re-telling of an angry, viscious Bubbles demanding blog retribution sounded better.

Princess has recently decided that none of the stories that counter her unicorns and bunnies fantasy are true. But they are. And they get worse. And I sometimes get mad at Smarty because she wants to tell these stories.

They all, every single one of them, made me cry. Want to know why? Because I spent my year in love with 'The One'. That's why. I only wanted to be with him. But I was in a perpetual time out and so I went off to parties to learn more about people. And I grew close to so many of them. They became my friends, people I love and respect and will/have/would go to the ends of the earth for, probably way too often.

And what I learned, repeatedly, is that we are exactly what we think we are, no more and no less. Even when we pretend to be something else.

Last year, I watched a wife in an open marriage lie to her husband, constantly. I watched a couple swing, then not, then swing again. I watched Prince engage women I was like: WHAT? I listened to the Actor through all of his bad days and good.

I made friends. I lost friends. I went places I wanted to go and to some places I hated even thinking of traveling to and I learned an awful lot.

For every 'fantastic' story, there is someone thinking...yeah, this isn't so fantastic, is it?

But wait...we didn't all implode until about six weeks later. That's when the real hurt and anger started. I guess I have to wait for Smarty to start writing about August before I can chime in. Hurry Smarty. Hurry.

Riff, baby, if you’re out there, wait until she tells you about DC, or STL, or Vegas…or, or, or...

You Want What Lovers Have...

It feels like so many years ago that 'The One' and I were making plans to meet.

A friend of mine from AFF, 'Smurfette', was throwing a birthday party in Rhode Island. I was just understanding that my marriage was over and she invited me to get me of New York for a weekend. It seems that my time on AFF has been filled with girlfriends finding things for me to do to get over a broken heart.

Sidenote: I dare say I am not good at being in love. New blog topic for another day.

When 'Smurfette' asked me to join her and her swinger friends I didn't hesitate. Not because I was a swinger, but because I was going to ask 'The One' if he would fly to New York from Chicago and then drive to Rhode Island with me.

I asked. He didn't hesitate with his yes. And my life was changed forever.

When we met at LaGuardia airport I was still a bit in shock that we were doing this. However, the next three hours flew by while we laughed and told stories as though we had known each other forever. Maybe, in some way, we have. Or had. Whatever.

When we got to our hotel we ordered in and watched ESPN. In another time, on another site, we wrote about this night. Two perspectives but the same outcome. I woke up and could finally say that this was no crush, no joke, nothing but the real thing.

We took our new relationship to a swinger party that weekend and we didn't swing. I danced and drank and he observed and watched over me. A year later I learned what our attendance at that party had done.

You see, I was some random girl from NYC in a red silk strapless dress and silver stilettos and he was a random boy from Chicago in black. But apparently, when we kissed, or danced, or sat together just being, another woman, in another couple, asked her husband why he didn't look at her the way 'The One' looked at me. And their marriage was broken forever.

Years of her swinging, and his allowing it, had brought them to this...a stage of resentment. When the husband told me this during their divorce I didn't know what to say. His answer: We had done nothing but share a moment with a fantastic couple who thought swinging could save their marriage. Instead, two random people showed them that what they really wanted was to just be able to look at someone with passion and love.

Does swinging 'work'? That depends. But I do argue with my friends that it has a shelf-life and that at the end of the day, people want to be loved by someone they consider their partner. Complete love. You know, grow old love. Maybe not everyone. But lots more people than will admit this to themselves or others.

Swimming, Biking and Running Through...

Through what?

It isn't pain. And it isn't grief. Ever wake up and just feel a difference but you aren't sure what it is? It isn't necessarily a bad difference, just something that makes you stop for a minute.

Wait, I should bring you up to speed. You see, last night I had dinner with four friends. Mercedes *recently named in Smarty's blog*, Doc, Smarty and TallPrince, not to be confused with 'The Prince'.

We went to a diner and I thought we had a blast. Actually, Prince said he thought so, too. So did Doc. Mercedes just loved getting together with us, especially 'the girls' because she says we don't do it nearly enough. She's probably right. Smarty wasn't so high on the event. Or, perhaps because I was looking forward to seeing everyone, I didn't really process what she meant when she said it was both 'boring' and that she was done with 'this stuff'. I think she said 'stuff'. She may have said 'shit'.

What 'stuff' I wanted to know...the stuff of bloggers getting together. That's what she meant.

But, wait, aren't we all friends? I know Mercedes (and I really want to call her 'Pouncey' here so I think I will) and I are Smarty's friends. We've spent time at each other's homes; taken trips together; cried, laughed, cursed about life together. Hell, we've had lots of wine together. And Coke. So we are friends.

But what about TallPrince and Doc. Are they are friends? Well, I consider them to be my friends. We talk all the time, we've spent time laughing, trying to dance, eating, cheering on sports teams and now, in the case of TallPrince, listened to me worry about my upcoming triathlons. So, they are my friends. But are they Pouncey’s friends? Smarty’s friends? No, they aren’t. And last night, even though I met each of these guys because of Smarty and Pouncey in one way or another, I was reminded that not everyone is a ‘person’ to everyone else. Sometimes, you never lose your blog persona. You’re just two blog people getting together.

Are bloggers, by definition, too quick to use words like 'friendships' and 'relationships' because we think we know other people because of their words?

Yes.

I tried to explain to Smarty yesterday that these 'great' stories we may have are dangerous. For those people who haven't been through some of these situations, they sound magical. Sexual freedom, hot mess behavior and the like? Awesome! But there is a downside. Sexual frustration, hurt feelings, STDs, you want me to go on? Right, I don't want to either.

But, hey, when you live a life outside of this stuff, you start to think it's fantastic.

The truth is that while the stories may need to be told, every single one of them needs a word of warning: 'Children, do not try this without supervision.' We are still talking about people at the end of the day. Real people with real problems or successes. And while I can’t verbalize it correctly, the story of ‘celebrity’ bloggers on sex-sites means little to the outside world. But there…Wow. It’s the universe’s center point. Will I write about this shit?

Sure, I'll write about it. I'll write about the feelings I have about poly vs monogamy; lying vs truth, fast vs fiction.

But I'll also write about training for the longest race distance I've ever tried. And how scared I am. But how I am now in love with Diana Nyad and I think she's inspiring me to say 'fuck it, it's possible'. Oh, she asked for quotes for her new blog. Maybe she'd like that one?

As for us, the people who write blogs. Who are we? Depending on where we write we are either noticed or not, popular or not, wanted or not.

But we are also just people.

I might be Bubbles, traveling party super hero looking for love...or I could be Bubbles, 1000 lb wonder dude in my mom's basement.

You can decided for yourself, I guess. Or, you can fill in the blanks.

Hell, that's what a lot of people on AFF did for each other. Why should Blogger be different?

Soul Love...And This Love Won't Let Me Go...

Overheard at a diner yesterday:

"Just follow your heart and ask him. If he says yes, it's meant to be. If not, move on. There are plenty of other men out there."

Wise words from an 8-year old girl.

As adults, how often do we (women) remember how wise we were at 8 or 10 or 12? Not often enough.

We date, and then marry, men about whom we often have had our doubts and then we are confused about why it doesn't work out.

I have spent the last year waiting. Or so I thought. This was no one's fault but my own. I wouldn't let anyone in fully because I was waiting for a sign. A sign of what? Who knows.

"The One" predicted that year apart for us and maybe I believed it on some level. But what have I learned this past year? I learned that I would be okay sending off "The Girl" to college; I took myself to Paris and London and even had a stop-over in Geneva where I almost got lost; I started running again; I traveled to Chicago, Denver, DC, Las Vegas and Boston. I started learning French. I learned to knit. I dropped off of a sex-site, I remembered to write, I became an urban gardener and I re-discovered the joy of me.

"The One" might not recognize me now. I hardly recognize myself when compared to person he met three years ago.

So what is a year? A long time. Feelings change, decisions are made, plans are made and new paths are staked out. Can you love someone not near you? Absolutely. But without realizing it, life went on. And it did a pretty good job, if it does say so itself.

I said that I would undo a lot of last year, but at a diner, a random young girl made me think for a few minutes and the truth is: I own all of last year. And it was pretty amazing.

Image: Massiel Mancebo, Illustrator.

Standing In Line To See The Show Tonight...

The thing about having an affair when you're a parent is that you doubt everything about yourself.

If I could go back in time, I would tell my 'pre-affair' self to run far from the relationship I was in at the time.

I would have told myself to listen to what I knew was the right, which was to focus on A and leave the rest of my life to grow like ivy, on its own.

Oh, fuck it. Who am I kidding?

No, I would not have done that. I would have simply told 'The One' that I loved him sooner than I did instead of waiting for the 'right' time.

And, for all I know, the end result of our breaking apart would still have happened. But the hindsight of knowing that I would have had those extra few weeks of 'love' would have been nice.


I started to look at cost of living indexes for Philadelphia today. I remember doing this for Chicago about two years ago. Could I make it there in a relationship and out of one? It's part of the issue of being in a relationship for me: I need to know that I can take care of myself if it ends.

Sometimes, I wonder if that dooms the relationship at the onset, but I don't know how to be any other way. I think men are given a pass for this because that's just how society works. Women are supposed to still know, on some level, that someone will be taking care of them.

It's the beauty of being independent. And the horror of it, too.

I can't always make a date because I have work or some other committment that comes up last minute, but that could come across as not giving enough.

I go through this with friends, too. I find that some of them are totally understaning. And those are usually the ones with jobs more intense than mine. Or children. Same difference I guess.

I spent last year learning a lot about myself. Some of it I truly did not like. Some of it was wonderful to know.

But all of it was what has brought me to this point...this place of being able to say that there was a point where all I did was smile on the outside and be sad on the inside.

I wouldn't go back and be 'that' Bubbles again because it really doesn't feel like it was all that long ago.

So Come On Give Me The Chance...

To prove I am the one who can
walk that mile.
...Adele, 'One and Only'.

Last night I learned that my boss is going to be leaving in a few months. Just over six, to be exact.

I'm a lot of things over this, but mainly annoyed at how it has been handled. However, he's the first to say that is business.

I knew this was coming because he has been kind enough to prepare me for the possibility of change.

Change.

So while I have had time to think about how this affects me (it doesn't affect my job), I have also had time to think about why I'm still in New York. The truth? I have used every 'but' excuse for the past few years:

But A needs to get through school;
But I need to get through the divorce;
But I need to recuperate from surgery;
But A needs me to be close to her campus;
But I like my boss.

Yeah...well.

A is out of high school
I'm divorced and recovered;
She doesn't need me to be close, in fact, she's already planning to live off campus next year and to be working part-time to establish PA residency.
My boss is leaving.

I've had four bosses in NYC in almost 20 years and loved each one. All four just told me to go. How funny. They were just waiting on me.

But, but, but.

For so long, I just assumed I would be in Chicago after A left for college that I didn't allow myself to think about where I wanted to live. Chicago was it.

Now that I have had a few weeks to think about this again, I realize the list was longer: Stay in NYC or go to DC, Chicago or Philadelphia.

That's where the major non-profit jobs are located. So, it was just decide to narrow down a location, right?

DC is a lot like NYC in terms of costs. So...I could just stay here.

Chicago? Well, I love that city so much. But, maybe it's not meant to be right now. And well, Paris is the 10 year plan and Chicago could very well slow that down.

So that narrows it down to Philadelphia. Hey, I love soul.

I could go on and on about how now is not the time, but it is.

I've stayed for far too long because of other people. I've held off because of other people. I've waited on other people.

My heart is always going to belong where it belongs so it's just time to take it to a new city while it hangs out and does its own thing.

When You Were Young And Your Heart...

Was an open book...

Oh, wait, I hope to never see the phrase 'I'm an open book', ever again.

I am sure I will, but I bet I will always be traumatized by it to some extent. Nope, nevermind. Just annoyed. I don't traumatize easily.

I spent the weekend playing catch-up with my life. I really had no idea how much I was leaving undone until I had to focus on a number of things all at once.

You know...the sister with the assorted problems; my daughter's friend who is now living with us after her mother kicked her out over the weekend; 'The Prince'; writing, more writing.

My good friend, 'The Writer', and I talked on Sunday. I truly love this guy. He and I are in similar, yet different, places if that makes any sense.

I think that over the past year or so, we've told each other a million things and what's great about him is that he never hesitates to tell me when I am being foolish. What's even more interesting is that unlike most people, I actually listen to him.

He tells me I need to write. He also tells me that I have a talent. I hear him, yet I keep getting sidetracked between the present and the past in terms of what to write. What I want to do is take off three months and hide away in some little place and write by day and stalk the streets at night. However, the particular gig doesn't pay well. Go figure.

I bought 'Renaissance' a present this weekend. A book. Yes, I am so clever. It seemed like an easy purchase and yet he seems very hard to buy things for because his taste is impeccable and he probably just gets what he needs or wants when he feels like it.

I don't think this guy could lie if I paid him, so when he says he loves the gift....he must.

I've got a story to tell about running. Maybe that's where I'll start next.

Oh, and in the grand scheme of things, being a sex-site drop-out is fucking fantastic. That's right, not even Smarty's famous "Just one more thing" can get me to go back to AFF.

Sorry, Smarty. I still heart you.

A Funny Thing Happened...

On the road to staying away from dating...

I met men who made me laugh.  That is such a big thing, you know, to be able to laugh.

'Renassaince' is a perfect example of this.  He is funny.  And smart. And writes me wonderful poems and emails and he's also a bit 'definite' and not prone to silliness, not really.

But there is something about him that makes him just the right kind of different.

I have been trying to find a name for him, but nothing seems right.  So 'Renassaince' it is.  

Before I had an idea of who he 'was' I told him I wrote here.  I am sure he has read some, if not all, of what I have written so far.  Sometimes, I would have preferred that he had read my AFF posts instead.  I feel as though they are more cohesive in thought. This place, while 'home' now, isn't following any timeline or pattern.

I have been writing out of order, switching tenses, saving thoughts for other posts.  Perhaps being too vague for a new reader to know what I am.  Or what I am trying to do.

But, in fairness, only I know what story I am really writing.  

And I ask for patience.  For myself, from myself, for other...from others.

But this guy, who makes me smile and makes me laugh, well...we will all learn how new relationships take off or don't.  I just know that I like what I have seen so far.  

He's new. He's multifaceted.  He's like a renaissance.

I Told Her I'd Never Fall In Love...

But Now I Know Better.
.....New Edition.

What is my relationship with 'The Prince'? That is something I've asked myself since the moment we met.

What. Are. You?

To be honest, you're either a prince or you aren't, right?

Can you be both things at once? Neither? I guess so.

I have resentments that I have tried to explain a few times to him, but I also see in him the man he knows he is, not the one others believe him to be. Maybe that's unfair to him, me and them. After everything is said, this person is a friend.

Now, I'm not a savant or a psychic. I'm just brutally honest about people, at least to myself.

Over the past year I have watched 'The Prince' and his saga unfold and each step of the way I have asked 'why?'.

Why does he do certain things and not do others?

Why does he hold women to a different standard than the one he has for himself?

Why, especially back in August, was he not totally aware of what he had done and how that one action, not speaking up, has led us to where we are now?

Why. Why. Why. And how come?

My male friends think he is a douche, even though they know I hate the feminization of words to show disgust towards men, so they stick with: Asshole.

My female friends 'Friends?' split the difference between him being great or him sucking. It depends on the day and who they are.

What I learned is that I am happy to pull away from the women who put 'The Prince' ahead of their relationships with me, and yes, there were a few who did that.

I don't know if they will, or can, admit it, but it was easy enough to see. They worried more about his feelings than mine, they cared more about getting him to engage them than they did about maintaining friendships with me. To be honest, I got it. Hell, we all met on an adult site so why would I be hurt that women put a man ahead of their female friendships?

Why, indeed.

But I was hurt. No, nevermind, AM hurt. So now that we have that out of the way, back to the backlog of posts that I hand-wrote, but was too tired to type.