Monthly Archives: June 2013

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Working

I have been working way too much this week.  It will reach 60-hours.  I finish up my class on Sunday.  So, today in between some house repairs, running a carpet cleaner at my parent’s house, and paying some bills, I have got to go to the university to computer score two personality inventories, and I still have to write three reports.

I was child-free last night after my son’s game and meeting with my pastor about my sermon next Sunday, but I couldn’t go out.  My son brought home a simply hideous virus that is mostly just in my throat now, but there was a period of time that I had eaten two granola bars and quinoa salad; although, it’d been over two days.  Although I have hardwoods, I didn’t want to do what my son had done on the carpet at my parent’s house.  It’s been a helluva week.

I think that things are shifting for me though.  I would like to go out tonight and have a glass of wine.  I had to cancel my outdoor rock climbing class on Saturday because I’ve been too sick.  I have a beer festival though.  🙂  I’ll need to print those tickets tomorrow morning too.  I don’t have a client until 10. I told my roommate, who is NEVER home, that I don’t date anymore, but I pair down.  What I do is hang out, work out, go to my friend’s houses for dinner and such, or just meet other’s friends and kick around.  It’s like information mining.  Only my friends know that I’m ready to settle down.  Organic is my approach, and the last few girls have been easily eliminated as possible love interests after a little data gathering.

Shane was supposed to call my son last night, but I didn’t turn out having him.  I moved it until next Tuesday.  So, she’s been “going to call him” since January, and it’s going to be July.  Nice.  It’s more odd to me that she affects this close relationship fantasy.  She spent two weekends and two sustained weeks with him 2.5-years ago.  And the latter killed her.  She cried, she raged, she wouldn’t have sex with me for 6-days, and of course, she drank like a fish.  But, I always say, and I mean this statement, “People are doing the best with what they got.”  She can jump out of airplanes, but she doesn’t have 24-7 resolve to parent.  She can be an aunt who drops in and out.

I think that I mentioned that I had a good conversation with Bette.  I think that she will get to a point in the next two years when she can really start to address her moods.  She still says that now that she has had a year’s space from her grief that she is doing well, but in a same breath she can scratch the surface with the hurt that she has over her two older kids who don’t talk to her anymore.  I think that those demons will have to be addressed, and if I had to bet, I’d say that they will be in time.  That’s her journey though.

I’ve been writing about my brother.  He’d be thirty this year…  I can remember a lot of things about him, and always wonder what he’d be like now.  It’s a story that I’ve never really told in total, and now I’ll be telling it to a handful of people who I know, and others who are part of my church, the whole story.  It’s an exercise in being vulnerable.  That is good for me.  I’m on a track that is doing the best with what I got.

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Plague of insomnia

I have been with a headache for days and I think that it’s attributable to the fires.  I hate summer fires.  I took one of the evil meds, which seemed to work for sometime, but then got me all fatigued and tired, so I went to bed early.  I should be writing a report, and I may do that after I blog.  I just can’t sleep though.

Scrubs is something else.  I ran next to her–I was supposed to show her some weight forms at her athletic club–and we talked.  So, she has this ex who she really wants to settle down and make a life with, and I’ve seen pictures of her and she’s hot.  Also, superficially they seem to make sense.  She still does stuff with her, but has been put in the “undefined” queue a few months ago.  (I promise myself to tell a girl to fuck off if she ever says that bullshit to me again.)  It’s obvious how much she likes her though, but she has been going out on all kinds of dates with all kinds of people, and recently had a nice one with a man.  I told her, and I mean this, “If you can do that, it’s infinitely simpler, more conventional, and easier on the whole for others to ‘take.'”

When we went upstairs to the free weights, I did show her the forms, but she was interrupting me and talking and commenting.  Maybe it’s because she had to watch because it’s not good to do cardio on days that you lift, so I was simply illustrating the forms, but she was getting on my nerves.  I told her that she was a pain-in-the-ass.  She had talked to this girl before we started.  I’ve seen this girl out over the past few years.  After I ran through what this day of weights looked like, she talked to her at length again. When we got to the car later, she told me that she and that girl had a fling last summer.  I quickly did the math.  WTF?!?  I asked, “How does that work out?  I met your other fling on my bday trip in early fall…”  Then I realized that in addition to now-undefined girl, and trip girl, she was also doing gym girl.  AMAZING.  She can keep track of a lot, and seems to be a very good juggler.

Then I noticed her thin upper lip.  How she is wrinkling around her eyes very heavily, and that her teeth are pretty big and fairly crooked.  I guess I know what I’m doing with Scrubs…  I’m making a new friend who I can hang out with when I don’t have much to do.  She is TROUBLE.  When you see trouble, your brain makes her less attractive.  Thank you self-protection.

Then there are the entourage of the heavy drinking and sometimes fighting girls.  I’ll see one of them at the end of next week for stuff in my house.  That’s about all I want to do with them.  I don’t want a friendship with any of them, and when you are fighting with your partner and that gets pinned on me, and I didn’t KNOW you two weeks ago, I think, “It’s time for twelve steps.”

Everyone is doing the very best with what they’ve got.  It amazes me that what many do have is a path to destroy themselves and create pain.  I think that years ago, I would have tried to support these people in their internal struggles.  But, that’s the thing… Their choices are theirs, and they get what they need from making them.  However, I don’t have to get entangled in their choices with them by sleeping with any of them.  I think the clinical term is joining.  I don’t need to do that.  I’m holding out for true connection, excellent conversation, and health.

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Much improved

Monday pretty much sucked.  I also had a potassium fall and my left bicep was twitching all to hell.  I just have determined that no one should be electrocuted.  Very glad that I finished the event on Saturday night, but won’t do it again.  I like our little local 5-mile adventure race, and now that I know what to expect, I want to get a good time on that one next year.  No electric shocks and not running up blacks (ski hill) = more manageable.

Tuesday I actually even got a little work done.  Had some need to text Bette because I finished that race well.  So, now I’m going to have to write two more reports and then go to the art supply store for work tonight.  Wish that I would have slept more, but not really complaining.

I’m in my 4th month of continuing not to date.  I have been completely celibate for six-months as of Saturday when I did the race challenge.  I think that NOT dating takes up less energy and when you have a little flirtation mixed with possibility for fun hang outs.  It yields that you don’t have very much expectation.  I took a walk with my cycling partner yesterday, and I told her that I have no idea what Scrubs and I are doing.  I also reiterated to her that she needs to find out what she’s doing with her ex before I would even consider kissing her.  I am teaching her how to complete my Day A weights on Thursday.  I look forward to hugging her.

Lez Children must be avoided.  Pride Sunday was really strange and I told my workout partner that I felt like I was in a throwback to five-years ago when I was newly out.  I just don’t do well drinking all day, and it frankly reminds me of my relationship with Shane as well.  Not enough goals and things that make you happy, imho, if you prefer to pound alcohol the ENTIRE day.

I haven’t had a summit yet.  I would like to get one of those one.  I think that I want to plan a climb on July 3rd.  I’m not even sure which one yet.  I’ve only done eleven and think that if I can fine jumping off platforms, I can increase exposure.

I have only Bette to thank for this level of fitness, so I did so.  Then she said that she wanted to send me pictures of her race, and I said no thanks.  She sent me some school stuff from her son.  I do miss him.  He is a cool kid.

Pre-screening is the only thing that I will do while I am NOT dating.  I don’t want to get involved with a woman in anyway that’s physical unless I really know her.  Then you can ignore things under the pretense of “getting to know you,” because you are already getting o’s and all the dopamine.  No more of that for me.  It may mean that I’m single for a year or two, and that is just fine by me.  I don’t want to gamble or be an ex collector.

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Anticlimatic

I remember graduating from college, finishing my first fully empirical research in 2000–which I presented in 2001 as a paper–and giving a seminar that I wrote to all special providers who do not conduct intelligence testing, and I feeling like, “What next?”  I think that when you do complete something which involves lots of steps and preparation, at the end of it, you do rather wonder what it meant and why it is, indeed, done.

I dove under barrels in a five-foot deep muddy water pit and hoped that I had cleared them so I could dive under the next one when I was in freezing water.  I was electrocuted and felt one shock run down the length of my left side to my foot.  I ran up a halfpipe that was greased and caught the hands of two men who I don’t know, and being so dense (hehe), they had to get their buddy in the middle to pull me up.  The “race” wasn’t actually about time, but it was more about finishing something completely stupid to say that I had done so.  I looked like a cutter at the party and the bar last night.  I’m covered in weird lacerations and am bruised everywhere.

The funny thing is, at this point, I am just really proud that I did it.  We have a 10K, and what I would like to do most is get my finishing time reigned in to be a good time.  Again, I will just be setting new goals.  When you have your health, and you stay fit and vital, your “endings” are really more guideposts for your next “first.”  I don’t want to stop running, but I will only do so once or twice a week.  When I race, I want optimal performance for me that won’t be compared to anyone, but me.  I don’t feel anticlimatic about anything related to the race or my future events.

I’m going to end this entry talking about Pride.  Again, I had wonderful conversations with people out and about, but didn’t get to talk to the one very hot girl who was with a couple of her friends.  Definitely my physical type, but probably very young and maybe bi or just newly out.  No problem.  The pool party, however, was a MAJOR problem.  Those girls have a relationship characterized by fighting, and they basically sit and drink all day–and then one goes into their bedroom and sleeps.  Not my thing.  I don’t want a girl like that or do I want to be around anyone (even friends) who thinks fun is drinking all day.

Being outside, connecting to my friends, learning new physical activities, and being me is what I want to do.  I’m feeling solid this summer and love where I am.  Nothing is particularly shifted, but that yields balance.

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“Battle Scars”

Such an incredible video. I love these lyrics too.

Today, it is way less about ending a bad relationship for me. This post is more derivative of the cuts, bruises, swelling, and lacerations that are all over my body after my crazy race challenge yesterday. Here is to being able to walk around Pride!

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Would be nice

I’m at a bad point with my celibacy.  I guess that at this stage of my life, I don’t do well at the 6-month mark.  Scrubs was supposed to call me this morning, and I guess that she’s not.  But it’s not like she is in a place to aid my celibacy, because she is still in love with her ex; although, she thinks that she can hang out with her with the understanding that she can do so carefully and try to avoid getting hurt.  That is a tall order.  But, speaking of length, that would not be a situation that I would want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

I dreamt about Bette last night.  It was blended with one of my best friends, because the setting was a dog rescue that was going to be partially a source for a documentary.  (One of my best friends is an animal activist and therapy dog trainer.)  We were working together with two of the dogs.  Awhile later, she kissed me and it felt really good, and while we kept kissing, I took off her clothes.  I can remember the way that everything felt.  It is actually funny the level of detail that I can remember about being with her, and I don’t have a charge anymore while I sit here and type, but it was very nice in the dream.  That portion of the dream ended when owners of the dogs who were there to show parts of the rescue had come to get their animals.  We had to quickly get dressed, but were both flushed, so it was easy to tell what had been going on.

Last night after most of a Day B–I didn’t finish because my partner had gotten there way before me and I want to have all of my energy for tomorrow–we made some dinner.  We stayed up very late last night laughing and talking.  It was so much fun.

I cannot believe that we ate an entire quiche lorraine last night

I cannot believe that we ate an entire quiche lorraine last night

I told her that when Scrubs was ready, that I would just fine with being her rebound sex, because I just would really like some sex.  I told her that I could say, “I know that we are not meant to be in a relationship together, but if you need some distance between your ex, I’m fine with giving you some intimate attention.”  I kept writing about and thinking that she just doesn’t seem consistent.  She resurfaces every once and awhile and this is really the only time that she has said that she was going to call and didn’t.  She knows that 5 is my typical start time too.  It could be that she got called in earlier or something, but I tend to think that she just forgot.  I’m sure that when you are trying to navigate things with your ex, you get kinda inconsistent.  I know that I did.  But, there is something else about her that I don’t understand, but gives me pause.  We shall see as we hang out.

I really don’t want to do anything with the Designer and her Partner.  That has layers of stuff that I would rather avoid.  I do wonder what their friends are like though.  Honestly, if it’s not an interesting time, with all the happenings this weekend, I will probably leave and go downtown and kick around.  I just need to get out and do things.  It’s not that I need to take some girl home, it’s that I would like to have some options of getting to know you stuff at some point.  Perhaps it is not meant to be very soon, and I’m honestly fine with that.

When I met Shane, we had that chemical attraction and then had the most stimulating conversation about digital diploma mills and technology’s effect on relationships.  It was an incredible conversation, and I still can’t believe that it happened in a bar.  I had one mission that night, which incidentally was four-years ago in five days, and that was that I wanted to have sex, so I took her to the train station and then we made out.  I said, “Do you really have to go home, ” and she said, “No, I can do something else,” and I said, “Like come to my house?”

But past does not necessarily have to be prelude.  Let’s say that I sleep with a woman on Sunday…  I think that I have dated enough to sleep with a different kind of girl than my last two super controlling gfs.  That is not the order of operations that I wanted to follow per se, because I do know what sleeping with girls who I don’t know has yielded.  But, if I apply the same logic to my being single, I do have to realize that there are probably some women who are single who have been so for some time out and about, and with this weekend being Pride weekend, they may be out in droves.

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Been there

About five-years ago, I was in my emotional shoot-out stage.  You know where anything sounds good and you’d do anyone who gives you some attention.  I had a friend, who incidentally I saw a few months ago, who used to put on a leather panama hat and use a bullwhip, and I guess that many of us were ok getting naked for her.  I wouldn’t have sex with her, but there was a wild, drunken night at my house in the summer of 2008.  I remember that my now roommate cried in my basement about that, because she wanted to date me.  Turns out, I didn’t really want to date anyone and it would be six more months before I let any girl do anything below my waist with me, and that was my cowgirl with the incredible body, but bad voice and teeth.

My workout partner thinks that the woman who I met while trying to get a cushion redone and my blind fixed wants to get me naked with her partner in their pool.  I think that is really hot to think about, but I won’t do much in that scenario.  Mainly because that time has passed for me and went out with the bullwhip episode.  I’m still intrigued about their party and their “friend.”  So, we shall see.

I’m going to call Lonely Girl, Scrubs.  It’s dangerous, but so is this blog.  Scrubs texted me yesterday.  I was at the Credit Union so I just called her.  She wanted to chat too and was going to work late and drinking coffee on her stoop.  We had a nice convo.  I’m just not sure about her.  I need more time to get to know her.  I’m not really completely attracted to her, and I think that she senses that, but I do like her dimples and her legs.  I should take her on a proper date.  I need to hike and bike with her a few times, and then maybe will do that.  That is if I’m not attracted to the Designer and her girl’s friend.

I am also fine with status quo.  I get kind of ready for some action every once and awhile, but I don’t want action that is casual.  I want to really know well the next girl who I wake up with in the morning, or can’t sleep next to until I am completely exhausted and the sun is rising.

 

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Meanwhile…

Back at the drapery store or ranch…  My workout partner and I went to run today, and there was a class for seniors going on in the weight room until 10:30.  We took a small walk outside and dodged running sprinklers as best as we could.  When we got home, she wasn’t hungry, but I was so I ate about six-servings of the quinoa salad that I had made with roasted asparagus and Italian green olives.  It was a little gross and I will definitely need to run later, but not until after the plumber fixes (hopefully) my floor drain issue.

Our dog had shredded our sun shades in the livingroom several months ago, and the assembly was a nightmare to get taken down, but my intern and my workout partner helped me.  Then I took the cushion whose top has become sun faded and the blind to the drapery store.  This turn is where the mundane gets interesting.

I was asking the guy sitting at the counter in the drapery store how my blinds could be fixed and he told me flatly, “They can’t.”  Nice social skills, pal.  I decided to talk to a white dog playing in the store instead of him, and the woman who I believe owns this store came to help me.  I believe that this was the same woman who had helped me when I recovered my favorite recliner.  She said that I wouldn’t want the old rails on it anyway, so why didn’t I just match the blinds as best as I could.  So, I started working with her instead.

Next this girl probably in her late twenties came into the store.  She was wearing a pink stripped button-down and jeans.  She was a cute, young blond with her hair up.  She decided to strike up a conversation with me, and wound up also helping me see if there was fabric that could be ordered to recover my chair cushion.

We talked about her dog and I showed her a picture of ours who had ruined the blind in question.  She talked about her bull terrier who was throwing her red ball and then retrieving it when it rolled away from her.  She liked my dog, and made pleasantries with me.  I thought that she was kinda looking at my legs, but figured it was because I looked like total shit in running shorts, a sports bra, and a stretched out tank from 1998.  Then she started talking to me about her ex gf.  Interesting.  Then about her current partner and raising this dog who is pretty anxious given that she was abandoned by her ex.  Finally, when I was leaving, she gave me a business card with her personal cell on it.  We have been texting.  Apparently, I’m going to a pool party and she has some “friends” for me Pride Sunday.  Could be an interesting weekend.

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Hang Time

We had an extremely busy weekend.  I did my last Boot Camp with my boss and also my workout partner before our crazy, dangerous obstacle half, and then went straightaway to a bday party for a girl in my son’s Hip Hop class, after that was pictures for recital and then we headed home.  My basement had flooded the night before so I cleaned it up, and then when I showered (Good Lord, did I need it.), I flooded it again.  I hope that it’s just the main sewer line that needs to be jetted.  I don’t have nine-grand laying around for a new sewer line.  Please!

Today after church I cooked a little and then packed it up and took it to a very busy park.  We picnicked, played frisbee, took two walks with our pup, and a hot mother played with my son and showed him how to throw and catch a football.  Str8 or not, she was really fun to talk to and had a great ass.  My friend who met us said, “Sad to see you go, but very fun to watch you walk away.”  Hahahaha!  It was cool, because my son was super snotty and moody and she heard him, and then said, “Sometimes I wonder why the alpha male woke up in the morning?”  I laughed and told her thanks and then when I came back, she had her son, who was probably five-years older than mine, ask him to play.  She and her brother-in-law played catch with him and taught him stuff.  I gave her a couple of cans of the craft beer that we were drinking.  She was appreciative, but perhaps not as appreciative as I was given that she played with my son a bit, and I could talk to my friend.  It’s so funny because the sermon today was on generosity and noticing it in others.  I noticed it.  She was a very compassionate and caring Mom.  Hot was just a bonus.

I’m pretty damn happy.  My friend had to move in because her girl and she are not quite ready to take the shack up plunge.  I think that I want to clean out my office and get another roommate.  When I have to start paying off this doc, I don’t want to have much debt.  With us making less every year at work, and health insurance for my son and I tripling, my debt sucks.  And when I do my post-doc, I’ll have to make nothing.  So, I think that I want to live with peeps for awhile.  It would be good for me, and perhaps for my son.  I’m going to put out the good roomie finder juju.  Just hanging out and doing things that float my boat.

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Remember

I went out last night and bullshitted with the bartenders and talked to one girl at length.  She was super butch, but funny and smart.  I enjoyed myself, went to the car with a spring in my step, and talked to my workout partner and then slept like a baby.  I have a job interview in just over an hour, so I need to pop in the car and then head up there.  One of the bartenders knew where I was interviewing, because his father used to work there.  I don’t subscribe to or endorse coincidences, so I thought that was cool.

There was a time a few short years ago when I’d leave the lesbo bar and would feel so badly.  I hated the way that I felt.  I believe now that most of it was because I thought that I should be with someone.  The thing is that I met Shane in a bar four-years ago on June 19th, and that yielded a summer of fun and then all kinds of weirdness after she fell in love with me, and I convinced myself that I should make something work.  Why make something work?  Those efforts are for 3-5 years down the road when stuff hits and you have to navigate it.

For argument’s sake let’s say that there was a super fit, light-eyed girl who was single who sat with me last night and we chatted.  We can go farther and say that she got my number.  I’d still be who I am now.  It would have been exciting and interesting, but I’d have figured that perhaps she was pissed at her girlfriend and went to the bar to make her jealous.  I also would have told her that we should meet for a bike ride sometime in the the next month.

Bette was so important to me for close to a year.  When she started her stuff of breaking up with me, and then really needing to sleep with me, and then engaging in fights with me, and then calling me or showing up to make plans for sex, I just kinda let my heart die.  That’s not the kind of love that I want.  It sounds a lot more like a relationship sponsored by the sensationalist and fear-based media in which anxiety prays on what I would lose without her, or how alone I would be if we didn’t talk.  I’m alone.  No one texts or pursues me.  I’m fine.  In fact, I know that girls who I know don’t contact me because they are not the right girl for me, or am I for them.

It’s good to come home and talk to a dear friend and go to sleep.  This friend of mine only gives advice when I ask, and we know many deep, dark secrets about each other.  I would never let those go in one direction.  I don’t fire questions at someone to get data, so I have a way to keep them needing me.  There is a genuine, open, and honest experience with others.  It’s authentic. That’s the path that I walk.

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Begging to be told

I have some little things floating around in my brain… I want to tell it and talk about what these random thoughts are percolating in my head that is probably mostly a consequence of only working part-time and adjusting to that schedule SUPER FAST. I went to pick up the girl who I wound up caravanning with on Sunday night and her niece was in the kitchen. This girl is more upperclass than what I’m used to and I think also comes from money, so although she was in scrubs, she said, “Would you like a beer?” I told her that would be something that I’d never decline. Her niece who had been watching me said, “You sound like my mother.”

I said, “Ew… That’s definitely a Top Ten List something that I don’t want to hear,” and I looked at her again, and said, “There is probably no way that I could be your mother.” Then she said, shudder, “My mother is sixty.” I took it wrong though. Without skipping a beat, I said that was perfectly charming. We laughed and started up a conversation with my date who opened the beer and handed it to me. Rich girls do have very good manners. I think that there must be a difference between those who come from money and those who have made money. Bette doesn’t have anywhere near that level of finesse. The present girl then said that she was heading upstairs to change.

Her niece kept watching me. When she did we talked easily. She asked how old I was, and when I told her that I was 38, she said, “You look good!” A little color rose to her face, and I figured she was about the age of a graduating senior, so I said, “Oh, remember, I’m 60,” and then I winked at her. She flushed more and continued to talk. She then asked if I was single, and I said, “Very. I haven’t even been with anyone in 6-months. It feels good to be on woman detox.” Then she said, “I should ask ____, about that because I’m pretty curious.” I said, “I think that it’s kids in your age group. They don’t really see sexuality as an issue at all, and then girls, in general are always socialized well; therefore, being allowed to touch each other and holds hands and such. It seems like a natural extension. But…” I had to glance at her a little more while she was casually drawing and sitting down across the counter in the kitchen from me, “I do think that you are straight.” Then she said, “But, I’m very turned on by women,” and again more color rushed to her face.

Ha. That is some good stuff. Here is a child 15-16 years my junior who is all torqued up talking about women with me. I had this rebound thing last summer with Peter Pan when I was 37, and I found that her 31 was waaaaay too young. I highly doubt that any 23-year-old would hold an appeal for me, but it was fun, and it was interesting. I think that I need to grab a drink tonight. I have a damn job interview at 9:30 tomorrow morning, so I will have to take the boy to my folks’ house so I can do that. (I’m still not sure what I’ll be doing for supervision next school year.) I’m going to go out a bit and maybe even bar hop. I need to let these musings in my mind and body have a little life in them. 😉

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Delusions of the Exes

I think that I casually mentioned that Shane had written the same day or day after I had to sit in a presentation with my coming-out affair.  It’s so odd to have a coming out affair when you were 33, but my hs and college gfs were covert.  Anyway, the delusional one is not my coming-out affair. I gave her a simple hug and had a professional conversation.

Shane is super delusional though.  She wrote a disjointed letter that my son barely listened to and sent a complicated star device and a toy plane.  My son is 7.  He cannot interpret the stars and the wheels would take my perceptually-challenged self hours to interpret, so it’s just buried somewhere.  He has not played with transportation devices in three-years.  She is like one of those unfortunate distant relatives who we all have who still think that we are suspended in toddlerhood or something.  The saddest part of that is that she thinks that they have this relationship.  If she wants one, she would have to call him once a month, as he changes quickly.  Sad, really.  I do wish her the best, and wrote her a thank you email that day.

So, unfortunately, when you have kids and you spend over a year with someone, you and your kids interact.  Hell, Bette and I even did blended weekends for awhile, but I promptly stopped those early in 2012.  I still miss her son.  He is a gem.  She’s super lucky that he won’t remember me at all.  My son has been asking to talk to her for a couple of months, but like most seven-year-olds, he loses interest and lacks follow-through.  Well, not last night.  He was adamant about talking to her.  Of course he did have to leave her a message.  She left him a voice recording the following morning, which was today.  I played it for him and he asked to call her back.  He took my landline in my bedroom, his dog, and left.  I unloaded the dishwasher.  He came out shortly later.  Then I got two texts.  One was thanking me.  The other was apologizing if I took offense at one of her comments.  I said, “I have no idea what you’re referring to.  He sequestered himself in a bedroom with the dog.”

She talked about him at length.  I responded.  She honestly is a pretty good mother.  I think she’s harsh as all get out and I don’t want to be her friend, but she is honestly one of those people who has a soft spot in her heart for kids.  She asked to take him for a burger this weekend, but I explained that he has rehearsals Friday and Saturday, but that she could see him anytime that she wanted to.  I sent her two recent photos of him, and one had my intern in it.  She thought it was my gf, and I said that she is a 29-year-old str8 intern, but that I had a good gay story, so I left it on a voice recording.  I’ll reproduce it in brief here, because it’s funny.

I’ve been cross training since November with my workout partner.  She knows my son well though, because she is working with him as she is a Speech Pathologist.  My son reads too well to qualify for speech, but he has a lateral lisp.  This information is bg, and not the story.

Here is the story, and why I was with this particular girl, who I’ve been cross-training with this school year.  We were walking our dog after lifting weights and eating dinner.  She was talking to my son about his gf.  My son is super tall and actually very good looking.  A 5th grade girl called this house this year and left a VM and completely freaked me out, but again that is just more context.  Anyway, he likes this girl in his class who happens to be Black.  My workout partner said, “Do you like Black Girls?”  He answered, “Oh, yes.”  She said, “I like Black guys.”  My son said, “We are the same.  But, we are straight.”  There was a long pause and my son said, “You’re the gay one, Mom.”

It was funny.  My son is a bit of a nut.  That was a good exchange, was not overly personal, but was not an invitation into my personal life, but was about my son.  So, I thought that would be good, but she texted again a very stupid joke.  I let it go with no response, so 5-hours later she left me a long voice recording with race tips, and offers to send photos about her race.

Jeez.  I finished my 5-mile, and had fun.  I can finish my crazy half.  I don’t need advice.  Having a friendship with someone who doles out advice and tips is not a friendship.  Honestly, it reminds me of a stereotypical man who must be the best (Most of her tips were based on the race and her training that she had just completed, and how they could help me.) and be the one to help and fix.  Ani says it best, “I’m not a kitten stuck up in a tree, and I don’t need to be rescued.”  Also, when will she get that I didn’t ask?  I don’t need her for a friend or anything else.  I don’t appreciate unsolicited advice either.  If she wants to see my son, she’s more than welcome to take him snowboarding or out to eat or whatever.  I don’t need her.  She has strange ideas about relationships with exes in general.

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More See Saw

Dammit.  I was at my son’s End-of-the-Year Picnic when the Director of the Day Treatment called.  He said that he doesn’t know if he can get me adequate supervision next fall and spring.  I got upset and came home and did two applications, which wound up taking over two-hours.  In fact, it may have been 2.5 hours.  Lovely.  I’ll meet with him tomorrow.  My current supervisor will conference in on the call, which will be helpful.  We shall see.

I need a new nickname for the girl previously termed as “Lonely Girl.”  She is just like the rest of us, and doing the best that she can with what’s she’s got.  Honestly, she is newly divorced.  She and her partner have only been split for two-years and some change.  That is not enough time to get clarity with what you want, or how to co-parent divorced.  That takes time.  My ex and I have been not living together for nearly six.

I wanted to pick her up, but she was on call, so we caravanned.  My friend and she were from the same town, so that was a good connection for her.  She kept saying how cool they were.  My friend’s partner and she are in the same industry; therefore, she really liked them both given that she had something in common with each of them.  I do have great friends.

I don’t know.  She gives good hugs.  I had a date with a jailbait girl who I refer to as “Church Girl” last summer and I liked her hugs.  They are the same sign too.  I like water signs.  They have a good damper for my personality.  I just want to see what transpires.  What is meant to happen will.

I still like her dimples, and was very excited that she also wore a skirt (Well, mine was actually a skort, but hey!), and that I got to see her legs.  I want to meet some of her friends, I want to cycle with her and hike, and I want my workout partner to meet her.  Maybe we are each other’s wingmen.  Maybe we will be on a couch someday and start kissing.  I don’t know and trust that what is meant to be, will just develop.

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Str8 Entourage

I have been accused of collecting cute str8 girls…  And maybe like most stereotypes, there is at least a modicum of truth in the statement.  I stop at agreeing with my intern who said that I replaced my cycling partner with a prettier model; therefore, it was true replacement.  I’m thinking that most of it was just bad timing that she left her job mid-year and that I really like the woman who I wound up serving on a team with during the year.  The latter–with whom I do hang out a lot with–is smokin’ hot.  Oh well.  I like pretty girls.

I had my intern, her best friend from the southeast, and my workout partner over for dinner the night before my crazy, obstacle five-mile.  And what happens, that often does, is that girls get curious.  Not too curious, but at least the beginning of that normal, fluid, continuum sexuality stuff.  It was NOT subtle Friday night…  My intern’s best friend said, “______, do you wear the strap-on?”  Nice.

Today on the phone my new–and I guess, upgraded model–cycling partner asked what is lesbian sex?  She said, “You know with str8 couples if you don’t do penetration, it is not.”  I said, “I do rather love that when my str8 gfs say, ‘I have had sex with 5 guys,’ but they fail to mention to you that they have given ninety blow-jobs.  Str8 girls love to define what constitutes sex.  If you have had 95 cocks in your mouth, you are experienced.”  She laughed, but did not disagree.

I like my girls though…  They have gr8 show-up factors, we have great convos, and even if sometimes they tend to forget that I’m a Mom or that I’m gay, things like my acerbic wit, or disarming follow-ups tend to allow for them keeping up with me.  I just think that it’s funny when they ask sex questions.  Tonight, I’m probably going to take lonely girl to a BBQ at my friends’ house.  They have a wonderful house, and they wanted my son and I to come over for dinner–one of the Moms had given birth to their son almost 5-years ago.  I shall be around “family” folk, but am in a whimsical mood, so may post more of my musings soon.

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Mission Accomplished… Mostly

OK, I didn’t swing my legs over the cargo net because the wind came up too high, and I didn’t do the horizontal one suspended 20-feet in the air, or the leapfrog scaffoldings that were angled, but I will do those in two weeks. Promise. I did everything else and ran 5-miles and all the A-frame fences with just a rope which were super high, and one culminated in a platform 18-feet in the air that you had to run off of to then jump into a 15-foot mud pool. These combined with trail running up switchbacks full of loose dirt were crazy. I’ll be ready for more in two weeks, and have a strong sense of accomplishment right now.

I ate carbonara like a refugee, and I also grilled some NY strip for it medium rare and piled a huge amount of salad on my plate. One of my best friends who I have known for 12-years cooked for me tonight and I got to hang out with a very handy friend of hers and both of her daughters. It is amazing that her daughter is a senior next year and I remember her at 5. She is a wonderful young woman. I love her youngest too–she is just eight-months older than my son.

My son did the quarter mile twice and got very dirty in his new Keens and he stayed to watch me. That was so nice of my ex-husband to do that. I’m proud of him, and I am very glad that he got to watch me jump from the platform into the water. I lost my handkerchief on that one and I looked cute in it, so I’ll have to go back to the Army Surplus tomorrow.

I’m comfy. Lonely girl texted to see if I was around this weekend, and I just called her back. She wants me to call her tomorrow. I’m not sure about her in general. What I’m sure about is that I did a lot of “firsts” today, as did my son. I have wonderful friends. My life is full and happy.