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.

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.

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.

Kidding.

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?

"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?

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.

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)