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.

We Only Said Goodbye With Words…

I was thinking about the men who have come into my life over the past year. I don’t think I (or you, dear readers) need a cheat-sheet yet, but maybe one day I’ll write one anyway.

And what have they all taught me?

That love means many things to many people, but that friendship means even more things.

You see, friendship between men and women can be tricky.

And, because I have so many married male friends, friendship with them is even trickier sometimes.

I often joke that there needs to be a book written about the types of things married men look for, and it isn’t always sex. But no one would believe me. So, instead, I will tell you a little story.

I have a friend “The Libra” and we’ve been friends for four years now. I met him before I met “The One” and that was always a sore point for “The One” and I. He always thought Libra and I had been sexually intimate, which has never been true.

What we have been is emotionally intimate, which I can totally see is often just as bad, if not worse. We have listened to each other when family members have died; when our spouses (when I was married) have told us how much they don’t (or didn’t) love us and so on until the end of time of sad things spouses sometimes do.

Libra has had a number of affairs and yes, he did ask me out because he was interested. Then we started spending time telling jokes and watching movies and going to bars and we became friends.

Sometimes, married people want friends.

Libra has done many things for me, including being one of the first people to check on me after my surgery over a year ago. I consider him to be a great friend, but that means I sometimes have to tolerate some things I don’t like. For instance, we were supposed to have drinks yesterday. But, when I didn’t hear from him on Sunday or Monday, I figured he would get busy. Instead, he texted on Wednesday to say he would see me at 5:00 PM that night. That would have been great if I hadn’t already made plans because I thought Thursday was his preference.

We got into a nice discussion about timing and he decided that this was a great time to explain all of the ‘responsibilities’ he has and the ‘hoops’ he has to go through to get a night out.

And while I ‘hear’ what he is saying…I think that I have finally grown weary of the men I know assuming my job or responsibilities are less important than theirs.

Yes, I don’t have small children, but I still have a child. And as far as I can see, I am not aware of anyone who is a doctor, cop of firefighter in my life, therefore most jobs are as important (or not) as mine.

Isn’t it interesting that as we age, we lose sight of certain things. Things like: How to communicate. Libra and I won’t speak for a few days or weeks because he has to be mad at someone and I’m easier to be mad at because I require the least. I get that. But what has developed is that I’m starting to remove everything that doesn’t work from life just to make things simpler.

So…go figure. I just realized why people have affairs in many cases: They treat their spouses like they treat strangers, sometimes. Actually, sometimes it’s worse.

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.