Love Look Away

Ok … so as you know I was dumped. Yes, dumped… and its been about two weeks now and I have cried every day. Every day. Some days have been better than others. Some days a lot worse. I know that we were a couple for not a long period of time, but I still ache. There is nothing that doesn’t remind me of him. Nothing… I ache every day. The feelings that I have are as real as if we had been together years. You may deny or disbelieve me, but my feelings are genuine. And I know that it sounds like the jilted lover, but I am never feeling this way again. I told my mother a few months ago that he was going to be my last boyfriend. And if you knew my mother, you would understand why I think that’s important. Mom isn’t really all about the warm and fuzzy…especially when it comes to the gay thing. Not that she doesn’t support me.. It makes her uncomfortable despite what she says. But anyway, the importance of the last boyfriend statement is vast, and also explains why I have felt so bad. I love him. Nothing else really needs to be said about that. Its plain, its raw, and its true. You see, he was the last boyfriend because he was going to be the one that I spent the rest of my life with, or I am going to be alone. So alone it is. I am not writing this out of anger or to get sympathy, and certainly not to hear the oceans of platitudes about being single or finding the right one. I found the right one. But he didn’t find me. I write this because its cathartic for me on a few levels. One, because writing is something that I am good at, and its an expressive outlet that I can make clear my feelings, fears, and frustrations. Two, because a public forum takes away the power of the hurt. Secrets hurt. Secrets hurt the keepers and those that they keep them from. I grew up in a family of kept secrets and I hope whatever few there are left die with me. My brother and mother still have secrets, a fact that I am sure both would deny. I think that my niece and nephew have broken the cycle and are honest “good” people. No more secrets.

So back to my break up.

 The reasons for it are, as the usually are in these cases, irrelevant. I basically received the “its not you, its me” speech. Wasn’t the first time, but again, it’s the last. You see, every significant relationship that I have had with a man, has ended with some variation of that speech. If you hear something enough, you start to create legs to support the table of truth, but only if you are stupid. And one thing I am not, is stupid. You see, all the men that I have dated (and I say all… there have been 4 or 5 significant men in my life. 4 or 5 depending on semantics). All of them have been different people, different situations, and different relationships. The constant in all of these is obvious. Me. So what choice do I have but to believe that it is in fact me, and not you? I am not saying that I am not a catch. I am not saying that I am some troglodytic mutant. I am saying that I am not relationship destined. I don’t know what characteristics I have or lack that put me at a disadvantage in relationships, but clearly there is something. So instead of desperately seeking to find my Achilles’ tendon of love and wear some dumb-assed ace bandage around it, I have made the conscious, deliberate and intentional choice to not only not seek love but to shun it. Yes, I am in mourning now for the love that I lost (no black Sophia Petrillo veils as yet) and that’s important to experience.
 More importantly is that I need to mourn the death of Love. That’s right Big “L” love. I am sure I will be met with “you’re just saying that now” objectors. I am not doubting love’s existence, power, wonder and grace. I wish love for those who want it and can find it. I am saying that love does not want me. And strangely, I am not alone in that. On that note, I wonder if Tom Wopat is available ?



Things that Rock:



My friends who have been there for me. Old and new. I hope you read this and know who you are.

He slept a summer by my side

All I will say is that I am single again through no fault of my own...I miss him and love him, but its over and I am going through the gamut of emotions...
I need to throw myself back into writing... its one thing I know I am good at and is so cathartic,maybe the blog will help me until I can get some resolution.

And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for

OK… so today I have been thinking about forgiveness and making choices… I recently was thinking about my friend DD. She is one of those amazing women who really could do just about anything that she set her mind to. For example, climbing Mt. Everest as she did. She is very tree huggery and I was ok with that…just an all around cool person. Several years ago, we were having lunch at my favorite Chinese restaurant and over my wonton soup and deep fried hunks of meat and her (anything that doesn’t have a face) meal, we started talking about relationships and that sort of thing. It was apropos as she had just started to dabble in lesbianism… ok, so I really don’t know how you actually dabble in lesbianism but it just sounded like a good phrase. But regardless, she was falling in love with a woman… Cool. As the mai-tais flowed we continued on talking about being cheated on… I have been cheated on by boyfriends twice. Didn’t really like it much… the first one, I took the high road and forgave him, the second…well… lets just say, not so much (repossessed cars, $2000.00 worth of phone bills and the police were involved)… DD confessed to me that when she was married (she had been divorced for several years) she cheated on her husband and that she felt the need to confess and ask for his forgiveness. Here’s where I had an issue. I counseled that her confession to her ex-husband would do nothing but make her feel better for something that she did that was wrong. (Ok.. I say its wrong because it was not the established parameters of she and her husband’s relationship…if you are in a relationship and your rules say that you can sleep with someone else then its not really cheating but I digress…)

Her confession to her ex- husband would only serve her and make her ex upset and confused. Granted, I don’t believe in keeping secrets, but at this point, it’s not going to help him. If she had told him when it was fresh, they could have addressed it, and dealt with it however they needed. For all we know they may have been able to work through whatever issues they had and be even happily married.

I guess it comes down living with the choices that you make. You make bad choices; you deal with the consequences… you and you alone. You make good choices; you live with consequences as well,( e.g. Seeing Tom Wopat in a Broadway musical = bad choice with the consequence of a painful performance and wasting money on tickets, Seeing John Barrowman in a Broadway musical = good choice with the consequence very VERY happy dreams that night)

Things that Rock:

My $10.00 electric bill (no.. seriously)

Air conditioning

Saying, “No I can’t make it that day, I have plans with my boyfriend”

But this is Wine, that’s all too strange and strong

Wow. There I said it. Wow. There I said it again. A lot of news... I can’t believe how much has changed in my life. In the last few months. All big life changing and scary things… but all good.




Just a side note before I start…. Fighting with my evil sister-in-law… and am sorry that my brother is sick…Hope he gets well soonm, But the phone (i.e. Internet, mail, and actual phone) works both ways

After my initial run in with Mr. Police earlier this year (who knew you had to have your car registered EVERY year?), one would have thought that I would have learned my lesson. I was subsequently pulled over for 2 more random events by the same cop (one made worse by the fact that my insurance card had expired- NOT the insurance just the card) anyway… after a great dinner with a buddy, I decided to bite the bullet and buy a new car. I go to the Toyota dealer and am greeted with “Yeah, we’re closing in ten minutes, can you come back tomorrow?” Seriously? I drove to a Mazda dealer and they actually had exactly what I wanted… and stayed 2 hours after their posted closing time…just kept thinking, “You work on commission right ? Big mistake, HUGE!” My shiny new hybrid is great and gets amazing mileage…and that’s important.

As many of you already know, I bought my first home in May. So far love it… The odd thing is I got my first full monthly electric bill yesterday… I was floored… It was an entire month… I still open the ebill and think, “REALLY?” $10.32 ‘Nough said.

I have discovered from this process that I have commitment issues… Picking a paint color was one of the most difficult things I have done. (Ok a bit of hyperbole there) It seemed like I was making every excuse as to not settle on a color. But eventually, I worked up enough courage and am very happy with my choices. LOVING my chocolate brown kitchen (Cowboy boots actually) and the green is great in the living room.

And lastly, and most importantly, I met someone. And he’s pretty fucking awesome. It was one of those “I saw you across the room and needed to talk to you” kinda things. And apparently my commitment issues are limited to home accessories and décor. I’ve been in love before, a couple of times actually. But something feels different. Something is different. I would tell you more about him, but I need his permission before I start dragging him through my blog (if I even do that…some thing need to be private…wait who said that?) Let’s just say, things are good…

Things that Rock:

MY BF :-D

Those edger paint brush things with the little wheels

The Oysters at Five-O with lemocello gelato YUMMO!

Not working on Fridays

And I am old, and will be gone...

I have been thinking about my mortality lately. This may be a bit morbid to some, but eh… the price for living is death, so why sweat it? I have, at least for the past 25 years or so, have had a strong feeling that my death would be fiery and impaley. Not facts to support the feeling…but it just feels right… From time to time, there is a watery aspect to it (and oddly, I can come up with specific situations that are fiery, impaley, and watery…don't ask) One of the things that I have often wondered is who would attend my funeral (not that I'll know…I am no Tom Sawyer). Would they close down work, so that all my co-workers could attend? Or would they find someone else to cover…I mean, they're gonna have to hire someone anyway right? And who amongst my friends would attend? I am pretty certain I would have a good turnout. I know that my friend "If I were a Bell" would attend. I know this because I realized he cares about me. (Not saying that others don't… not looking to hear from others… just saying) IIWAB is kinda a trouble soul. Not really happy with his life, but terrible pragmatic about it at the same time. IIWAB confided in me that he was hiring a hooker. And I found this absolutely riveting. I mean, how many people do you know who have not only hired a hooker, but have admitted to it without being ordered to do so by a court?




Anyway, IIWAB called me immediately after the hooker left and filled me in on all the details. And I must admit, that I was a little creeped out by the fact that the sheets were still warm and IIWAB was calling me, but he said, "I just wanted to call and let you know how it went because I know you were concerned" And I thought, "Wow, we are friends"…I know. Not Earth shattering, but still…



I think part of the reason that I have been thinking about death lately is because I feel old. I am not old, but I feel it.

I have also been concerned about my mother. Well actually my mother's boyfriend. He isn't in the greatest of health these days, which makes me worry about him, and then in turn about my mother. My father died suddenly in his early 60's, and now I am worried about my mother dying. Not only because I love her and will miss her, but then that means that I am next in line. And its not death I fear, its not living. Odd… I don't mind the price, but I do mind the product.

Things that Rock:
New Beginings
Lobster
My New House

Hello, Little Girl

This is a little different style for my blog..I find this a terribly amusing fairytale. And yet, I think I make a valid point,actually a couple of points..on a couple of levels.






The Obligatory Adult Fairy Tale



Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess. Her name was Dorothy and she lived in the palace with her parents, the king and the queen. Everyday, Dorothy would get up and be served breakfast by one of her servants, and then proceed through the day doing all sorts of princess-like things such as playing the harp and practicing her wave. Dorothy had a wonderful life. Well, wonderful was a little strong. You see as much as everyone thought that the royal family had an ideal life, it really wasn't. Dorothy's fingers hurt from playing from playing the harp, and you can only take so much waving in day. So, Dorothy snuck out of the palace and ran away.

She walked for several days, and came upon the obligatory cabin inhabited by the obligatory childless, but loveable couple. As Dorothy was tired, and the couple childless, they decided it was best if she stayed with them and acted as their daughter. Knowing as much as they did about raising children as the childless couple did, they thought it best that they use her for manual labor. Dorothy, having been a princess all of her life, reveled in being used for manual labor. Dorothy's chores included shoveling cow shit, washing dishes, and her most favorite of tasks, and really the only thing she was good at, gathering the eggs. Dorothy would carry the eggs in two baskets, one in each hand (which worked out nicely, because she had two hands). Apparently the childless couple was on the Atkins Diet, because they had close to 400,000 chickens and needed the extra egg whites. As you can imagine if you have ever been near a chicken coop, the aroma from chicken is, well, less than pleasant, so the childless couple made sure that the coop was a good distance from their cabin.



One day, while in the middle of gathering eggs, Dorothy saw something moving by the edge of the coop. It turned out to be the obligatory wolf. Having never seen a wolf before, Dorothy picked up her baskets (one was serendipitously one egg shy of full, one was serendipitously empty) and went to meet the wolf.



"Hello Mr. Wolf"

"Hello Little Girl", they read from their scripts.

Dorothy found the wolf more than charming. Dorothy also found that wolf made certain parts of her body react in a very un-princess-like way. So after tossing her hair, batting her eyes, and flaunting her basket of eggs in front of the wolf, Dorothy felt that Mr. Wolf was completely enraptured with her (and not in the way that most people were enraptured with a princess).



"Yeah", said the wolf, "your eggs are okay, but really, I'm here for a chicken dinner"



This enraged Dorothy and she hurled her empty basket at the wolf, hitting him squarely in the head. Laughingly, the wolf picked up the basket (it really hadn't hurt because after all it was an empty basket), and started to walk away. This of course enraged Dorothy even more.



"YOU FUCKTARD!!!! HOW DARE YOU NOT LIKE MY EGGS AND THEN HAVE THE AUDACITY TO STEAL MY BASKET!!!!" she screamed and ran after him.



"I thought you were giving me the basket for my chicken dinner. No?" he asked.



She grabbed her basket, went back to the coop, and started to gather more eggs. When she went to put an egg in the empty basket she noticed that the basket was covered with wolf spit. "I am not putting eggs in that basket, what a douche-nozzle, stupid wolf" So, she over filled her basket and returned to the obligatory cabin.



She recounted the story to the childless couple. The childless woman said "Oh my!" The childless man said," Screw the wolf, screw the basket. I love your eggs" And with that the childless man killed the childless woman in an appropriately gruesome manner, and "married" Dorothy right there on the obligatory hearth in the obligatory cabin. After the brief "ceremony", Dorothy realized to her horror that she just "married" a chicken farmer.



"I'm a fucking princess, what am I doing???" she thought.



She promptly called for her obligatory fairy godparent. The obligatory fairy godparent then turned the childless man into a well hung, handsome prince, who listened to Dorothy's every word, serenaded her, and enjoyed the occasional bubble bath with her. The obligatory fairy god parent then magically killed all the chickens, packaged them, and placed them in the obligatory cabin's now state of the art walk in freezer. Actually there was one chicken left. It was the one that laid the obligatory golden egg. Everyone lived happily every after including the fairy godparent. Who, by the way, met another fairy godparent, moved to a castle (which they magically redecorated monthly with very tasteful wolf skin accessories) by the ocean.



THE END.

Said, "I can do that"

Said, “I can do that”






I think it was Jean-Paul Sartre that said “L’enfer c’est les autres”… well actually I know it was him (I just wanted to sound a bit pretentious). It’s from one of my favorite plays “Huis Clos”. I highly recommend it…Oh yeah... I should probably translate…Hell is others…and what he meant was that Hell is other people. When working in retail and hospitality, I had ample evidence to support that case…after the events of last night, I think I doubtful of that… I would have to say “L’enfer c’est moi”…Hell is me… and here’s why…

Last night (and truly on a whim) I decided to go to a children’s dance recital. Admittedly, one of the reasons that I went was because it was a good excuse to go out for dinner and drinks (Basil- Grapefruit Martini YUMMO). And, the little girl who was dancing in the recital is about as cute as you can get and my bosses daughter. And it beat the crap out of sitting home alone watching hours of Buffy or the Golden Girls…

So here’s why I say Hell is me… I am standing at this recital and looking at these girls (and one token boy) tapping and Arabesque-ing all over the place…I watched all the parents taking photos and videos that would soon be all over facebook. The expressions on all of their faces sickened and depressed me. Here are all these people who for one reason or another are delighted to see their little offspring doing whatever they were doing. And granted, they weren’t amazing little dancers… just normal kids who do what normal kids do..and normal parents/grandparents doing what normal parents/grandparents do (although I use the term normal parents VERY LOOSELY). I realized that the only way for me to experience this is vicariously through people like these. Through friends and extended family. And this isn’t some tirade about “Poor me… I’ll never get married and have kids” I’ve put that demon to bed (and speaking of beds… this issues is an offshoot of the mattress commercial issue). I also am very happy for a friend and his partner who are seconds away from adopting…this makes me happy.. It’s more that the milestones that most people have, I do not…It’s hell because I am the only one putting these thoughts in my head…or maybe I am wrong. Maybe, its societal “norms” and expectations that put them there… I don’t know maybe there is a separate but equal set of milestones for we non-reproductive types…



Things that Rock



THE JUDY SHOW

Getting tickets in the second row for Liza

Spending time with great friends that simply amazing people

THE DROWSEY CHAPERONE at the Ogunquit Playhouse... see it ASAP!

Promises, Promises

Sorry Its been a while since I have blogged.. I have been crazy busy...more details to follow.. maybe in May... late May after I collapse