Monthly Archives: November 2022

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Chill

My best friend from work who I worked for 2001 through 2005 told me “Good luck today” via text and I texted back “Calm and Cool.” We rolled in roughly the same time and I beelined to my office and sat there for fifteen minutes going through 82 emails when the intercom with our Boss’ voice said “Meeting at 8:10.” I strolled in at 8:09 and they were already meeting. After a pause a colleague said, “Did you cut your hair? It looks great.” She swiveled around in her chair at the Conference Table and I looked straight ahead at our boss after saying thank you to the colleague. I could feel her looking at me. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t notice her clean, long, blond hair and the way she had it tied back with the purple highlights showing when I strolled in at 8:09. When the meeting ended, I was the first one out the door. 10-minutes later she came into the office with my office mate and they were catching up. I had materials that were delivered to this building that I had to put in my car, so I ducked out. My other workmate who has the adjacent office was kinda leering into the office so I said, “Be right back” to him, and put the materials in my car and came back to the office and she was gone as was my office mate.

Around 8:45 she was going into her office wherein I was doing my morning routine of trips to rid myself of coffee that I really need to work and met her gaze in the hallway. I said, “Hi,” and she gave me the best, large smile and said, “Hello.” She had faded makeup on her eyes and looked super hot. I’m sure that I smiled large back at her.

At 9:30, she came into the large room at the front of my office that I share and was talking to our colleague and then she came in. She sat down and when I turned, our legs were really close together like they were on Halloween. We talked and her vacation wasn’t great. Mine really was. I said, “You should have pinged me!” She said, “You could have… All my housemates were sick all at different times, and I didn’t want to expose anyone.” The beginning of her sentence didn’t elude me. Yay. I asked her if we could go to one of those smashing places or throwing axes and she said that she was down. My officemate came in shortly after that. She took her leave.

I eat lunch with a colleague most Mondays, and did so today, and when I got back to my desk I had two texts. They were from her! “Lunch?” Several minutes later, “Want to get pizza?’ DAMMIT. I usually try to be a little screen free here and there. I texted an apology and later that I was sorry to miss an opportunity to connect. After work was over, I walked down the hall and she was in her office. She asked if I wanted to go to the ballet and that made me so happy because I had asked her on the 11th if she’d go to play, ballet, or symphony with me sometime as I had a nice cocktail dress. Her commuting partner came in shortly afterward, so I texted her tonight. Stay tuned, ya’ll.

It’s good to 1) not be weird, 2) avoid reading into anybody’s behavior, and 3) to be chill after you’ve had little contact.

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Waiting or Dying

I am not sure why it’s fucking me up so bad that my ex is dying or simply awaiting a transplant, but it is. (I averaged 111 bowling today. I can’t live with myself.) I am reading through our relationship. Cliff notes: meet in a bar, have a fun summer, the main other girl she’s fucking says that they have to be girlfriends, I don’t need friends, I bounce, she texts me around the New Year of ’10, we have a romantic rekindling that wasn’t just sex, and then by the end of the month she eventually starts seeing her previous girlfriend and I concurrently again, I start to actually have feelings, and then she moves to the southeast. Here was that bullshit with circumstances that I don’t ever want to repeat:

She came over Wednesday night, but I had seen her every night the previous weekend, and none of the days were all that good–some were plain awful.  The only night that we actually had plans were Friday, and she had tried to cancel those.  Saturday, I ran into her by chance–if you are one who believes in coincidences, which I don’t–and she invited me out for a drink on Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, a friend of mine had an extra to a concert Saturday because her cousin couldn’t get a sitter. She and I had a date the night before, which she had tried to cancel late Monday night under the guise of having seen me once by chance, and when I should point out that she flatly refused to go home with me or let me caravan to her place for a few only to wind up texting me.  I know that I wrote about that.  She had also seen me for her birthday, because she wanted to spend her birthday with me. I’m not into trade-ins.  EG. “I’ve seen you, so we don’t have to follow through on plans we’ve had for six-weeks.”  I would let her out of them. She wouldn’t text back, so I told my BFF from out-of-state if she let them fall through, I wouldn’t make plans with her again.  My BFF said, “It will be really good for you when she is finally gone.”  She’s right–it’s toxic.

Not wanting to make friction, I texted her that I was going to be at the concert because a friend of mine, who she met the night that she refused to go home with me (Again, only to text me, “You can’t come over?” a couple of hours later.), as she had a extra ticket. I knew that she’d be there with the other girl from summer.  This was the one with whom she’d ended her relationship with so that she could sleep with me again.  I did not contact her for four months, and she texted me when the New Year began.  You’ll maybe remember that when we reconnected, she moved my hair off my neck and whispered in my ear, “I’ve missed you so much.  I never stopped thinking about you for four months.”   All of that may be true, but she gets something out of companionship with this girl too.  And it is weird to me, because she describes her as “selfish, a non-reciprocator, a bad kisser, and a bitch.” WTF, does she say about me, and to her possibly?  I’ll get to that too.

Friday had good and bad parts last weekend.  I liked it when she held me in the restaurant.  I liked it when she acknowledged how consistent I am and that hold her to her word.  Sex sucked.  If she wants us to be FBs sex should be phenomenal.  (It was on Wednesday night, and I’ll get to that too.)  I knew that it sucked because she was pissed that I told her that she needed to follow through on our plans, and I also knew that she’d be with the other woman at the concert.  Her energy changes when she sees her, and it is not for the better.

Saturday I texted her that I would be at the concert.  Then, of course, our tickets were a mere 10 rows and 3 seats apart.  She was above me with her ex-girlfriend that she has been sleeping with again since the end of January.  I knew that I’d see her; although, she said that we would “have to plan it.”  It’s good that she thinks that she has psychic abilities, but I just knew that our seats were too close together. Walking up the enormous flights of stairs, I saw her at one of the cabanas in line for a drink, so I hit her shoulder and walked on.  We were texting back and forth, and she had her phone out.  She had the audacity to say, “You should go. It is going to be awesome.”  I texted her, “I’m not worried.”  Which I was not, but that didn’t change just because I knew that I would see her and didn’t want any drama.  That’s not me.  So, a few more texts were exchanged and I said, “BTW, that was me who hit you.”  And she said, “I know, but you move fast.”  I said, “Are you not glad?  I’m not into drama and am sure that you’d like to avoid it too.”

Then there she was.  I was in line with my buddy and some of her friends, and there was my girl.  She hugged us both.  Then in a bit, my very good friends (They are partners of five-years.) were there too. She knows one of them personally because one night in January, she invited us both over for a drink.  Which later freaked her out.  That girl’s partner was looking at my girl like, “Who the fuck are you?”  Her partner saw it and said, “_____ , this is _______ !”  And then she regained her composure.  In fact, I was impressed with her, because my girl has not asked if she liked her.  She doesn’t.  She told me, “Not what I expected.  She is skinny and butch.”  Oh well.  She’s not my girlfriend anyway.  Fine we all met.  Let’s be on our ways.  Nope.

I got back in line with my friend.  My girl went to the of the line.  I said, “Come up here.” And when I finally got her to, I said, “Give me your ID.”  She got all weird and started handing me a $20.  I told her to put her money away, and she refused a bit, and then said, “Well, just get a well drink then.”  I told her that was bullshit and I could get her Grey Goose.  Weirdo.  It gets weirder. She touched my ass!  If she pulled that shit with me with the other girl when we were out on a date, I’d probably not talk to her again.  My buddy and I went to a table, and then she joined us.  We talked together, and drank.  Then the next act had been playing for some time and my friend mentioned it.  She said that she was going back in, and my girl said that she wanted to see this guy too.  Then she actually caressed my ass!  Wow!  She gave me hug and went back to her seat.  After she had stopped texting me, I thought, “You are a fucking chump! She is up there talking shit about you with the other girl, just like she does about her with you.”

So, on Sunday when she invited me out for a drink on a patio, I was lucky enough for my son’s Dad to say, “Yes” to coming over to babysit. I walked across a busy street in a tank, Birks, and jeans, and a guy in a Range Rover waved me across. I couldn’t see her; although, she said that she had a table outside.  I went in, and came out to the patio and kept looking and couldn’t see her, and was starting to get really pissed. Finally, I saw her, and she didn’t stand up or give me a hug.  Steve McQueen.  Fuck You. Talking, talking, talking.  “I liked the way that you stopped traffic.”  I said, “No, he was just cool, and waved me across. In a cocktail dress and heels maybe.”  The latter is true.  That is when straight guys typically get very aggressive and won’t leave me alone. More talking, and talking, and bullshit small talk.  I was furious by then.

Finally, I get my chance, “So, do you talk shit about me to ________ ? Do you tell her that I’m selfish and a bitch?”  I told her everything that was on my mind Saturday and she was furious.  I was so lucky that we were in a public place.  I’ll get to that too. After awhile she convinced me that the other girl doesn’t even know my name, and that she doesn’t think that I’m a bitch, etc.  I’m not.  But, I don’t want to be sleeping with someone who talks shit about me either.  After a lot of heated discussion, we agreed to let it go–forever.  I told her that I believed that she doesn’t talk about me negatively to her, and she said that she believed that I believed her at her word.  We hugged.  I gave her a kiss and we parted.

She sent me a text an hour and a half later which said, “I didn’t realize that you had your son back and it would be work to come meet me. Thanks for doing so.”  I didn’t respond and talked to my BFF out of state, and said, “Right now, I’m done.  I don’t care if I see her this week.”  She reiterated that she just needs to move, and I need to move on.

I did see her Wednesday, and it was obvious that she had not let it go. She actually went off on me. She accused me of taking out my anger on her, not trusting her, and told me that I don’t mean shit to her and that I expect something long-term.  Nah, her shit, and I’m not going to take it on.  So, she upped the ante and started to leave.  That did upset me for a variety of reasons.  One, I wanted some good intimacy, two, I had done nothing wrong, and three, she drank an entire bottle of wine. She said that my being upset was because I have “expectations” of her now and this is not what she wants or why we are together.  I got her calmed down, and told her, “Let’s just have fun then.”

When she finally was better, and had yelled at me enough, and also looked at me like she hated me enough, we finally undressed. She started apologizing.  I said, “Let’s not do that again.”  She said a bit later, “Thanks for putting up with me.”  Then she blamed it on PMS.  It was more than that though, because I called her on her bullshit, the moon was full, and she wants to call all the shots. O.K., I’m cool with that, but be consistent.  It was the best sex that we’ve had since August.  It’s called make-up sex, is it not?  I think that I want that to be my last memory of her here in this state.

Again, I am a list maker:

  1. Don’t fuck someone and ask or listen to other stories about who they are fucking too
  2. Don’t drink heavily with someone who you’re fucking; if that woman gets one drink over the line, go home no matter what
  3. Make very concrete plans with someone before you go to the date and keep those plans consistent
  4. If someone you’re on a date who starts getting angry, have a line. The line could be, “This isn’t fun or easy right now. Let’s stop hanging out until it can be fun and easy again.”
  5. Don’t have another date with some woman who is angry, pissy, or raises her voice.
  6. Don’t think or dwell on what any woman you’re dating is doing when you’re not seeing her or have plans with her
  7. Avoid messes. Be honest.
  8. If a woman who you’re dating tells you that she’s going exclusive with someone else, delete her number and block her after saying your parting words.
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Reflections

I like my cousin’s fiancé. Sure he makes fun of people, has lots of tools, and guns, but he loves her, and they’re actually good together. Before I was with the CEO, she had been dating him around a year, I think. She is what you might call a serial monogamist, which I guess is ok to say because “Ally McBeal” was a bunch of straight girls in NY, right? After 10 or 11 years, why not get married, right?

I’m not. I just read about when my best friend from work was here and we were climbing mountains and partying hard. She was dancing with this one girl at our club, and the girl’s best friend started dancing with me and then she kissed me. Well, if you kiss me, for some reason, I want to get more aggressive. I had pushed her up against a cattle tank full of beers eventually. We went on a legitimate date a few weeks later. After sushi and a long walk, I went to where she was parked and leaned in and she said, “We’ll have plenty of other chances.” I never kissed her again. Hmm…

I think I’m back in that cattle tank stage. My problem has been that I don’t say no to exclusive. Nancy Reagan would have a stern talkin’ to me. I can come out here as someone who says, “No.”

People, especially those who I have known who are genetically women, are super complex. I want to get to know lots of people on individual dates. It sucks a little to be introverted, because I really struggle with anxiety in groups. I get quiet, and then recently one of my Bosses called me “exclusive.” Or I crack lots of jokes due to tension. I am very funny, so that is probably ok, but if it’s noisy I can’t do that, and then I’m too direct due to discomfort.

Therefore, lots of different women in 1-1 settings.

No swiping. Do Gen X-ers like to swipe? Also, because I only select women-seeking-women, I’ll see women who I know. Small pond. Also, I find it distasteful for some reason to swipe a person away based on something static like a picture. Case in point is that my ex-wife is a real redhead and has blond eyebrows so some pictures are not great due to lighting. She is one of the most striking women in person that people have ever seen. I can’t count the number of people who have said, “She is so beautiful.” Really. Truly. Additionally, it’s fake like social media is. I have maybe taken three pictures of my son being an asshole or raging, but I haven’t posted them! I’ve sent them to a few people. Are folks with profiles on dating sites going to post themselves half a bottle of vodka into Thanksgiving? Not likely. Not probable. Finally, my experiences on Chemistry and OK, Cupid yielded the cowgirl (two weekends–lesbian one night stand) and the flute player (gamey / hot and cold). When I say that to friends, they say, “Sure that was before 2010! It’s changed so much.” I’m not arguing, but I have three reasons for my hard pass.

I’m going bowling this afternoon. I am going to beat one of my Bosses. He beat me at pool about two-weeks ago, so I need to beat him. If I can’t we’re going to the bar very soon and I will beat him at 301. His ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend are bowling with us. I have to put my road bike in the back of my SUV now, and go over to the place that rebuilt my engine brackets. My oil light is coming on and it’s also idling like shit sometimes in the cold because the box over the catalytic converter is shaking to hell. The alley is close, so I can combo walk / bike there.

I met my goal. This week mostly off from work was neither sad or trying. I expressed emotion, connected so much with my cousin and her kids, and went out to dinner for diner food with my son last night. Now, bring on the cattle tanks.

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Poor Life Choices

I’m facing the postscript music of too many beers and a large shot of Patron Silver this morning. Danced and sang. There was one really pretty girl in the bar who seemed to be having a first date that was going well. My friend did a duet with a really tall dark haired pretty girl which was fun to watch, and that girl took my friend’s number but lives elsewhere and is going through a divorce.

Something that I find cool about karaoke in general is that folks who are not striking have the most captivating voices. Every night you go, there is true talent. I bought a girl a shot. She was AMAZING. I just drank too much and feel like shit today. No drinks for T Day and none for a week to give my body a break. I usually crack a beer when I cook, but can’t stomach that idea at all.

I just have to bring beer and make brussels sprouts for my cousin’s shindig today, so it’s a low lift for me. Last year was my Mom’s last holiday. I did my usual cook up a storm for the family and brought food to the receptionist at the Nursing Home. I also made a big plate for the driver for my Mom from the Nursing Home to my house. Life had a rhythm that has changed since my parents died. Last Thanksgiving we sang, played piano, guitar and drummed and my Mom was lucid and happy. There are lots of pictures. I’ve sent the picture of her sister, her in her wheelchair with me and my son to lots of people. I’m glad that my ex wife had discharged from a crisis unit the day before Thanksgiving last year and took that shot and many other pictures. My Mom died at 2 am six-days after Thanksgiving.

Last night, the bar owner belted “The Story,” which was apropos because my son and I had just listened to “Bear Creek” on Tuesday together. I played a few other songs too. I just realized why I got so sullen listening to “The Eye” by Brandi Carlile. It’s because my ex wife was just a year ago completely suicidal and barely discharged for Thanksgiving. Terrifying. I miss things for sure, but not much over the last three years. I can look at pictures of us now wherein we’d always place our heads together in the same position for a pic at a trailhead, on a mountain, on a beach, in a forest, park or in some urban setting outside walking around. I can look at those easily. We had some really good times. Caring for someone with significant mental illness is so trying and drowns out those other good memories if you don’t explore them. Like the picture of my Mom last Thanksgiving, I’m glad that I have pictures of my ex-wife and I enjoying life in moments in time outdoors.

Even with lots of water last night and early morning, I am really dehydrated. I’m almost done with my coffee and nowhere near my normal pee quota. On Mondays, because we’re squished right now at work while a program relocates next fall, I have to interrupt other people working, teaching, presenting, and meeting because I have to pee out coffee and cross over other rooms to get to the bathroom. Sucks. Right now, I am obviously just absorbing the liquid. Time to shower, do a full body weights routine and drink as many glasses of whey that I can. Later, I’ll nest a couple of eggs and oven two Trader Joe’s hash browns, and if that doesn’t cure the hangover, I hope turkey and fixings does.

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Prowl

I cut off a ton of hair. I’m going to leave it round brushed today only, and then will leave it wavy except when I straighten it like the hairdresser did. Before mine turned gray, it was really curly. And it’s always been thick. The texture has changed so much that it’s kinda wavy now. The new look involves a significant and drastic a line, pretty short and the back is tapered and a little shaved. Next time, I’m shaving it really close at the bottom and tapering it more in the back. I think that the hairdresser started more subtle because it was a significant change. I’ve had an a line since August and had cut it much shorter than the way that I wore it when my ex-wife trimmed and cut it for me, but this cut is new and very short. I have magenta highlights too so the look is darker now and less gray. Tonight a friend of mine and I are going to prowl.

She used to be really hot. She still has beautiful eyes, but she is really out of shape. It’s ok though because if we got physical our 20-year friendship would be ruined. She’s bi and just got rid of her man who she affectionately calls Biscuit. She said that he doesn’t even ask her about her day. He’s 17-years younger than her, which made me feel good about my 11-year and some change age difference with my current semi-love interest.

I want to get some phone numbers tonight. That’s the goal. I want to start going out on a date every Thursday night and a weekend night when I can.

I have never done that–gone on lots and lots of dates.

I have picked up a girl at the bar because I wanted to get laid. That’s chronicled in another blog. It went like this, “If she’s tall, hot and has light eyes, she’s going home with me.”

“Good luck with that!”

Walk in. Three-minutes later meet her gaze, we both smile, and I wink at my friend who said it wouldn’t happen.

Talk to her all night. Had a snatch blocker and didn’t sweat it, because she said, “Can I legitimately get your number?”

I took her to the train station and we made out and then I said, “Do you have to go home?’

“I can do something else.”

“Like come home with me?”

The next day I took her to another train station and she said, “You have my number.”

“Pshaw, you have mine!”

She texted a week and a half later, “Do you like wine?”

Again, white wine is gross, but we carried on through September. I choked down Chardonnay. Then one of the other girls who she was sleeping with made her go exclusive. She said that we should be friends. I said that I have enough friends.

She texted me NYE and said that her situation changed. I saw her on January 1st or 2nd and she told me how much she’d missed me. I bookended with her and the other woman until she moved and then we did distance for almost 2-years. She is either dying now or waiting for a transplant. She was a fucking scary drunk. Black out. Start bar fights. Was physical with me once and I broke up with her two-weeks after I flew home. I overpowered her so she only left a little bruise on the base of my neck. She is a completely different person when she is tipsy. When she is drunk, she’s terrifying. Now, she may die.

I’m reading, “Opening Up” by Pennebaker (1990). It was written in what was termed “The Decade of the Brain.” Now with current research and understanding of neurosequential processing, it’s more of a read into healthy emotional expression done through quasi-experimental designs, but it’s qualitative, and I love Brown’s work, so I’m enjoying this book and it’s an easy read. Promise this isn’t a non sequitur given that the chapter that I read yesterday when waiting for my hair appointment was called, “Inhibition as a Health Threat.” Writing about what I learned through difficult relationships and also letting down my guard is healthy.

Yep. So, it’s not if she’s tall, has light eyes and hot that she’s going home with me, but it is that if she fits that description we’re going to chat. I would love a number. I would love several. I would like a date a week from tomorrow too!

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I wrote this the last day of 2012

I want to focus on what I want and what I’m looking for, but will start with a preface that it doesn’t mean that it’s not in my current relationship.  We are just new…  Eight-days shy of 7-months and both equally independent and busy.  I’d rather reflect on I want and as everyone seems to say these days, “Put it out into the universe,” which I think comes from that somewhat Eastern movement on the law of attraction and what one is interested in for focus. So, at least for today, I will blog about what I value.

  • That’s stupid.  Be what you want.  You’ll attract people who you want to spend time with, and don’t count dates.  There could be shitty dates and exciting dates.  I’m glad that I’ve not seen or heard from the CEO in YEARS.  Who cares that I spent 7-months exclusively dating her?  Shame on me for trying to force a long-term relationship with someone so mean.

I love being outside and feeling the sun on my skin.  I love the way that water sounds when it is unsettled either from the tide or when it is disturbed by a motor and laps against an embankment.  I also like the noise water makes when it is rushing when the table in a river is up. Being on top of a mountain and feeling the wind cover your body while you look literally at the world makes you feel small and like you don’t really have a single problem.  When you come down and laugh full of natural endocannabinoids from your summit and have a burger and a beer, you have never felt so happy. Snowshoeing up to a glacier lake and working your legs give me a whole feeling too, and again, I love afterward to share a meal with someone who I love and can laugh with about anything.

  • Yep, those things are still very, very good.  I have gaiters now too and know how to self-arrest with an ice axe, so I should bundle up and go soon.  Not solo though.  That’s stupid.  Love is expansive.  I love lots of people.

I love to cook when I come home, and if my day has been awful, I also open a beer and drink while I prepare a meal.  I love to throw dinner parties and hear my friends laughing in my kitchen and enjoy pieces of their conversations. Music is my soundtrack and I break out into song with good friends or make references to song lyrics all the time.  I want to get back into practicing guitar and can’t wait until my son picks up an instrument!  He is dancing now, and although I can’t, I love to watch him dance because his energy takes on a life of its own and he is expressing himself.  In a woman, I find dancing sensual and appealing because you can see things in her that you didn’t see before, and I love novelty.

  • Still love to cook.  Don’t have the need for a large dinner party, but my birthday party when I turned 48 was fun with my neighbors, my old work husband and his wife and my son.  I do need to practice guitar.  Teenagers don’t do anything.  At least he is dating a cheerleader now, so maybe he’ll dance again.  Been thinking about taking some dance lessons, actually.  I continue to have a thing for dancers and athletes.

Adventure is critical for me, and it can be simple adventures like the good memory that I have holding hands crunching through the snow and then naked hot tubbing under the stars–it’s like a pleasant surprise to have romantic things like that unfold and is the ultimate expression of one’s chemistry with another person.   I love to travel and see new places.  I love meals that are well prepared and looking at art.  It would be really cool to see a new city and rent a bike and race around on it to discover tons of it quickly and then be able go back on foot holding a woman’s hand and feel the air on our faces while we look over the scenery that we took in quickly and now want to take in more fully, and at a slower rate.  It could be a preview from the bike with a return on foot because walking and hiking are some things that I also value.

  • I can add to that walking on the beach and getting frisky.  That was fun too.  I went all over Mount Desert Island in June on a rented bike and it was phenomenal.  Gonna do that next June around the whole rim at Crater Lake, and I want to boat to Wizard Island.

I taught myself how to ride a bike when I was eight, and I still feel youthful when I ride my pos Mt Bike down the street, trails or on a singletrack. I can race it as hard as I want or just glide down hills.  I love the wind rushing on my face and going for hours.  I feel strong and alive when I watch the clouds and the afternoon wane on while I’m on my bike.

  • I bike to work everyday except for Mondays.  I have to drive on Mondays.  I have a police bike now and a road bike.  I donated that POS.  I LOVE cycling.

Quality of light is important for me too.  The moon casts a beautiful sheen across lakes, and the angle of the sun on a woman’s face at different times of day shows her beauty outdoors.  Seems that I value being outside, using my body, cooking and eating, and connecting and laughing–all of these things are made better if you share them with a beautiful woman.  I think that I do attract these things, so I must be lucky.

  • Still have fortuitous circumstances unfold in the dark. The climber held me on a climber under moonlight when I told her that my ex-partner is either dying or waiting for a transplant and that my son and I will have to motor to NC at some point because of that.

When I think of my son, I value that he is thriving, feeling well, and learning a lot.  Love of nature, being well and whole, and learning as much as he can from mentors should be his focus until he is ready to leave our house.  When one is balanced, he can give unto others, which is probably the only “Christian” value that makes sense to me.  In addition to being glad that he is enjoying sports, getting excellent grades in music, I am most grateful that he is regarded as the most kind and appreciative of diversity by his current teacher.  I hope that if I am lucky enough to add children to our family with a partner, that this virtual child is able to feel well, be outside, learn and truly share.

  • I don’t want any more children.  I hope that my son will be ok when he’s 25.  I drug test him weekly–it was hot today–and he gets a flip phone going as soon as the GPS that he has to carry that I’ll be subscribing to as a service is here and working.  Children are an active or psychic burden until they have a working brain.

I’m thinking that these desires and wants are what I value most, and my partner could make it more powerful.  When I imagine this partner, I am outside with her and we are having one night away.  It wouldn’t have to occur much, but I would value it when it did. She and I could maybe have a meal on a deck near Clear Creek in Buena Vista and have to sit very close together so that we would be able to hear each other and then we could hold hands while the sun sets. She’d make me laugh a lot and I would be taken in completely by her eyes.  We could leave the doors to the deck open so when we made love you could hear that deafening roar of the water in the bg.  That kind of connection while in nature is important to me and my meaning, as is going back to our kids and enjoying them after we had a night away like this one, because I think that meaning too, comes from raising a family together and meeting the challenges of parenting together as a concerted team.

  • I don’t want a partner.  I don’t want financial entanglements.  I am a complete sucker for green, hazel and blue eyes.  I love to laugh and will look forward to some fun sex when the time is right.  I don’t want to raise my son with anyone.  I want him to stabilize and get his act together.  My parents were not a concerted team, and I can’t think of an example of that with any of my friends.  I’m lucky that mine will be out of the house in July of 2024.  Then I can re-read this entry and see what’s shifted.  Love of parts of Colorado will never shift.
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Keeping some of it

I love having access to 14-years of my writing. Yay. I read about that orgy that a friend of mine hosted at my house. What a sentence. Wow. I was 34 maybe? She was pretty butch and had weird style. I can’t remember what state she was from–no one is from here–although I remember that she was a software engineer. She was smart, but not attractive. She wore an Indiana Jones Panama hat to my party that altered into an orgy because she also brought a bull whip. Her breasts were gorgeous though. Like a magazine. I’m a whole package person though and don’t like chunky, beefy, fat or out of shape for a hook-up or gf. I wouldn’t want an orgy at my house anymore. Also, I don’t think that I’m poly to the degree wherein if I was sleeping with one woman, I would be able to easily watch her kiss other women or men at a party. I think that when I was in college, cast parties would begin with body shots and then become group sex. I left with my college gf before that stage of the morning, but I’m almost positive that is what that crew engaged in. I actually think it’s about management. Hahahaha. Seriously, I tend to have trouble talking in a group unless I’m facilitating group counseling. I like depth in conversation and need to tease more information out and it’s less deep when you’re navigating group contributions to conversation. I HATE group lunches, baby or bridal showers, etc. Group sex would be that way too. Difficult to include everyone. Ha. Honestly, it’s like a connection and focus thing for me. Not that I don’t think that would be a good thing for other people though.

I slept in my bed with the software engineer after the orgy. I know that we cuddled a bit. I wore pjs and she was nude. I made it clear that I didn’t want any sex. I had kissed her breasts during the orgy and she referenced it and I said, “You have perfect breasts, and I still don’t want to have sex with you.” End of story. I think now that it would be difficult for me to sleep with someone actually. Since my son has revved up terrible / dangerous behavior, I am a light sleeper. I used to sleep like a rock. Also, my ex wife was a hideous sleeper–nightmares, waking nightmares, insomnia, bouts of manic episodes with needing to cut or dye her hair for hours in the middle of night or early morning–so I’m sure that has effected my sleep rhythms also. I don’t know what time I’d have to go to bed to be able to sleep a 6-hour stretch next to a woman and worry that I’d wake up at 5 or 6 anyway. I’ve simply worked too many years now. I wake up in the morning.

So, I want to keep dating. I don’t want to do wild group things that involve intimacy. I don’t want a relationship that is exclusive.

The sex thing. If you’re disconnected from someone who you used to be in love with, it takes a toll. She would offer to top. Randomly too. Like use the bathroom in our bedroom right before I was turning in because I work (She stopped working.) and then leave for the spare room making her exit with a quick offer. I was always like, “WTF?” I like to talk and connect and then have sex. That has even gone for me when I’ve done lesbian one night stands. Do you know what those are? You bring someone home from the bar, or you have a girl that you met on the Internet come to your house and share a bed and you have some sex. Sometimes several hours. So, you do that again once or twice. I talked first with those girls. At least a little. My previous partner who is incidentally dying or waiting for a transplant would sometimes come over while I was cooking, open a bottle of Chardonnay (Scratch that off the list for anything that I would keep. Fucking gross. Who the fuck actually drinks white wine by choice?), give me a kiss and then say, “Want some dessert and then we can eat dinner?” That was cute, and we still talked. With sex, I’ll need some kind of interaction connection to be frisky.

I love lists:

  1. Nothing that I find voyeuristic or is group oriented for intimacy
  2. Fit women who take care of their bodies
  3. Work on my sleep hygiene
  4. Date lots of women
  5. Connect and then have sex
  6. Never stoop to drinking any white wine

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It’s 4 am I must be processing

I woke up incredibly early today. I just got my emails for students who I supervise done–it’s 21 of them–and also wrote a few to my students in a class that I always teach every fall whom I won’t see again after the end of the month. I’ll miss this group. They’re cool. The other 21 will be around until the end of April, and then I have some time off from teaching and supervision. In terms of the latter, I don’t know when that will happen again.

My Mom died a year ago in two-weeks. Heavy as shit. It marked the end of my family of origin. I had lost my brother as an adolescent and that still is complete shit. Yesterday, I had group therapy and talked about my Mom.

My Dad died of COVID in April of 2020 and it was a blessing with the exception of the impact that its had on my son. I had a complicated relationship with my Dad until I did 5-years of analysis and then I tabled all my stuff, didn’t let it effect our interactions, and when he was being intense or strange, I just noted it, sometimes wrote about it (here), and other times said, “I’m heading out.” He sometimes would apologize after I left. I visited him every week alongside my mother when he finally moved out and into the same facility where my Mom was for 3-years, but he didn’t last because he wanted to die. Literally. He asked his doctor to kill him actually. Although we’re a right to death state, it’s not that simple, and you have to be terminal. He had dementia and significant impacts to his working memory so he couldn’t read anymore. He couldn’t even spit anymore. I tried to sample his DNA twice and he couldn’t coordinate it to fill the little tube. I did that because that was something that he was actually interested in. Mostly for about 2-years at home and in the home he said, “I have to go to the bathroom. I didn’t sleep last night.” This man was brilliant. What a way to spend your last few years.

My ex-wife didn’t really know either of them. They stopped being able to interact really probably around 2012. Ironically, what impacted them was that they stopped taking care of my son in 2009 for the most part, and then they declined. My Dad’s best friend moved to the South and they didn’t do much anymore. I was so busy with my kid and doctorate that I didn’t do much with them except cook them some nice meals. They got quieter and weirder.

I fell in love in 2013. Actual love. Like the one in which you cry when you fight and when you know it will never be anything anymore you weep and get pissed being handed a box of facial tissues. Fuck you for wanting my process to cease. Anyway, I don’t talk to her, will pay her off next fall, and don’t want anything to do with her. I was totally in love with her though and spent 8-years married to her and nearly 9 together, and she never knew my parents as whole beings.

My best friend and I went to “Wakanda Forever” with community members and some politicians on Tuesday. I liked it. My best friend asked, “What do you miss most about your Mom?” and I answered it, and then answered it fully in group last night with other people who’ve lost one or more parents. My Mom was introverted. When she did talk, it was always funny and sometimes cruel. She was a heavy smoker until probably 2012 or so. That and her bout with COVID in June of 2020 made her voice practically disappear. I told the folks in group last night that I have a VM from Thanksgiving 2020 and it’s cute and difficult to hear. I think, too, having had a stroke when she was 21, her vocal chords were slowly paralyzing. I feel like I watched my parents disappear. They were like Luke Skywalker, Yoda, Obi Wan and Luke’s Dad in “Return of the Jedi” when at the celebration they’re in light, but faded.

I don’t want this week off from most all work to be trying or incredibly sad. I teach Friday night. I booked a hike with a new group on Saturday. I have Book Club Sunday, and my male pickleball partner is going home next week, and my female pickleball partner got sick, so I will probably just go literally dink around at the court on Sunday to get some practice. We may have to forfeit. Sucks, because I’m competitve. It’s fun. Don’t knock it. It requires skill to do well. I kinda suck because I can’t finesse and hit it too hard due to softball. However, it’s not SCARY like my golf swing is.

I daydream about the climber. I’m not going to chat at work again though, and won’t text except to text back. I don’t want to be weird. I just want to see how things shake out. I was incredibly disappointed when she had to cancel our plans last Friday and she was too and apologized; I was concerned that she was slipping back or reinfected with the illness, but it turns out she just needed hours and hours of sleep. Sounded like in total like 15-hours. I’m glad she’s better and hope that she makes plans with me soon. I can wait though. I’ve developed so much patience. She has the hottest body. Taut lean muscle from the waist up.

The other two ladies have fizzled. I read all this shit that I wrote in 2009 – 2010 and that tends to happen from time to time. I can’t even remember who some of these women are when I read their job titles or mean, sarcastic names. When you’re dating, you do a lot of it. It will be interesting when I have sex with one and disclose that to another one. I wonder if some will bail and some will be fine with it. I don’t want an exclusive relationship.

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Becoming Me

I had a kid come out to me at work and then I second-guessed everything that I said to her and worked myself up in terms of worry that her parents were going to email me and lay into me. Everything is fine. After having a girlfriend since high school and then fully coming out 15-years ago, you’d think that I could calm down especially at work, but internalized homophobia is a real deal. I’m reading all this stuff that I’d written in this blog and just laughed my ass off about an entry called, “Suckage.” Hahaha. Anyway, I couldn’t find all this old backstory stuff here, so I’m going to reproduce and rework it a little here.

“My Story in Five Parts with an Epilogue just added”

Backstory

How did I wind up sleeping with a woman after an 11-year hiatus?  The story started in 2005 when I shook her hand.  The first thing that popped into my head when looking into her eyes and having the thunderbolt was, “Boy, do I have to avoid you!”  So, I did for about two-and-a-half years.  Then I was transferred and had to see her daily.  No more were the days of being able to e-mail, and use interoffice mail.  Daily contact. Why did she fall into the chair next to mine in August of 2007?  Who knows… Because our journey unfolds and we cannot effect or alter it. Unfortunately, I had to drive a mile or so past her house twice on Saturday and it really screwed me up.  It would be nice to be completely over her.

My marriage had been purely awful for 6-years. And when he screamed at me in front of our very young son, and I screamed back, and I realized that I could not hear my 19-month-old, I said, “You’re moving out for good this time.  I’m done.”  He didn’t even say anything when I reached back in our car with one hand on the wheel to comfort our tear-stricken boy.  He had never heard me yell until then and fell silent with tears streaming.

Then I began working through all my internalized homophobia.  I told her that I had slept with a woman before after some mutual friends had left and we were the only two left at Happy Hour.  I will never forget the size of her eyes.  They are big, beautiful, and green anyway, but they sparkled, as she drew in a breath and said, “Reeally?”  That’s when I knew it was inevitable.

We didn’t even make out until 6-weeks after that. I rubbed her back after making her dinner once. She was telling me about a restaurant and talking nervously about her trip to P-town.  She had bought me a necklace there whose charm I only threw out about 18-months-ago.  Her cat knocked it off the couch, and she said, “Oh, I think that was your box!”  Being unable to resist I said, “Am I sitting that close to you?”  She laughed and it broke some heavy sexual tension.  We also wrestled that night, but since I like athletes or dancers, she overpowered me easily, and had no idea what to do with me supine.  Even though she is both a dancer and an athlete.

She spent three weeks away.  We texted an average of 35 times a day in crazy fervor.  When I picked her up from her plane, she jumped too quickly into my arms and I wound up with my lips in her hair.  We caressed and hugged, and I said, “I’ll give you a better kiss later.”  She laid on my shoulder for the agonizing 45-minutes for the duration of the ride home.  As soon as we got home, we flopped onto her couch.  I have never been that aroused.  Holding someone who you have slowly been falling in love with over the course of three-months, but have had fantasies about for nearly three years is something that honestly is indescribable.  I kept telling her to kiss me.  I had STARED at her mouth for years. Her lips are so full and sultry.  She wouldn’t.

When she did, I was forever changed.  I get specific compliments about my kissing after her. We didn’t sleep together at all that night.  We made out for two-and-a-half hours.

Backstory II

I don’t know why we didn’t do anything more that night…  After it was close to midnight, I got off of her, and told her that I would have to relieve my soon-to-be ex-husband so that he could get to a friend’s house to crash.  (He didn’t have a permanent residence for a few more months, and it is not really all that permanent to this day, which is now three-years later.).  She kissed me in her doorway and I drove home. That began my soaring, that would later give way to some serious imbalance and mood swings, but few can make that many changes in their lives over the course of five-months.  I’m hardy, but was thrown off for a good amount of time to say the least.

I could not wait much more.  After two days had gone by, I decided to drop by a “care packet” as she had caught a cold on the plane.  I put it in a purple paper bag with rafia handles.  It was chicken tortilla soup, Progresso chicken noodle, a mix CD, zinc tablets, and some Emergen C.  After her best friend left, I pinned her against her refrigerator, and started kissing her neck.  I said that we should both call our offices and play hooky.

She still had a ton of work.  So, I watched her work and helped her a little.  We ate lunch.  We made love for a few hours.  It was honestly so interesting because I had never had sex with an actual lesbian before.  I had been with two straight girls very long term as an adolescent and young adult.  It began an unfolding for me. Three weeks later when I was getting my hair done, I looked around the salon at all the beautiful women stylists and patrons and it was like walking through a waterfall without sustaining a brain injury.  I could never go back.  I had to come out.  Another inevitable surfaced for me.

Backstory III

What was the affair like?  Amazing, exciting, and fast-paced for three-months.  My heart used to pound out of my chest.  Literally! I could see my pulse in the sides of my neck, my entire body would flush, and well…  I’m sure that I don’t have to be crude, but honestly, no one has ever held a candle to her in terms of anticipation.  And truly, I don’t ever want to feel that excited again, because, at times, I felt like my heart would race away from me and I’d come to an end.

The last month turned out to be the most agonizing and haunting for me and likely for her. We had a great pattern for about 11-weeks. Dinner (usually I cooked it) and then tons of sex either on Friday or Saturday night.  Occasionally, we would have a couple of hours of sex during the week as well.  I felt that I wanted to tell her the truth, so I texted, “I love you,” to her once. She said, “I’m protective with my heart right now.” Of course, I reminded her that she had said it to me first anyway, and she had.

I had to go to this Christmas party the end of the year before I finally was able to start sleeping with her.  She was there.  Looking beautiful in a black suit, and thinner than usual, I decided to put away my general fear of her (In fact, she still makes my heart race.), and went up to her and said, “Merry Christmas, _________, and by the way, you look skinny and beautiful.”  And she flushed and said, “I love you.”  That was it.  So, the weekend after I had texted her that, I told her it, and said, “You may not recall that you said it to me first anyway,” and she said, “I remember that. It was last year’s Christmas Party,” and then she started kissing me.  I can still remember what her kisses felt like.  She acknowledged it, and from that night when we talked on the phone (and all days forward until the end of that year) she would say, “I love you.”

So, we should not have been having this affair for a variety of reasons.  We were having some pillow talk on the last day of November or it may have been December 1st by that point, and she said, “I want to go somewhere special with you and be like, ‘Here’s the woman that I love.  I want to show you off.'”  I told her, “_______, we cannot do that.  Wait until next fall and we can be doing what we want.”  She rolled away from me.  I tried and tried to talk to her about it, but she wouldn’t. The next morning seemed okay, but when I came up with my son, and her friends canceled on having dinner with us, the atmosphere around us got polluted.  I drank too much.  I kept apologizing.  I put my son on her bed to go to sleep.  She lay in my lap and then finally looked up at me, and said, “You don’t need a relationship.”

Agony that was December

So, we texted a little bit that night, and I didn’t sleep at all.  Nary a wink for a night, which would be what the next four months would mostly be like for my sleep, which also meant that although I had already lost 19-pounds that fall that I would loose another 8 and you’d be able to count the ribs in my back.  I was only able to sleep in four hour stretches from that point forward until spring came.

The next morning we spoke and she explained that in addition to her never wanting to be a mother, she was so far past being “anyone’s dirty little secret anymore.”  I didn’t even see her until the following weekend, and she only would talk to me on the phone about twice a week, instead of every single night as she had done for about 4-months.  That Saturday night, we watched some SNL, and she started holding me. That would be the pattern for the month of December.  She would eventually touch, cuddle, or kiss me, and stop me if I got to where she couldn’t keep me from taking the next step, which had been normal for us until that month.

I resigned the following Friday.  I got another job that Monday, which would start late January. She went out of town the week that I resigned.  She texted me the day of the face-to-face interview with the team, as I had passed the administrative interview, and then we had a cold conversation on the phone.  That is what December was like… She got colder and colder, and more removed from me.  It was so strange–watching someone become an iceberg.  It was like the lyrics to “China” by Tori Amos.

Two days after Christmas, we were to exchange presents and have dinner.  As I was finishing the very last errand two miles from my house, I got a flat.  I called her at her desk.  She wanted to patch it, but I just wanted a ride home.  She and I emptied out the contents of my car, and then drove to a restaurant for lunch after the tow truck pulled away.  We had lunch and laughed and I had a beer.  When we got home and she handed me my childseat, she embraced me, and I pushed her off.  I was nervous because I hadn’t vacuumed or finished up in my house, and didn’t want anything physical because I was tired of it. I was exhausted.  When I turned the corner in my basement, I started because she was at the base of my stairs and I was carrying clean sheets (I guess I was hopeful.).  Bam.  There she was.  I dropped my sheets and she held me for two minutes.  Do you know how long that is?  I honestly did not have the strength to push her away.

So, we laughed, talked, downloaded music, and made playlists and got increasingly physical over the next five hours. Then we were laying on my bed, and I had my left leg across her waist and one arm under her, and the other across her chest.  She has an absolutely beautiful voice, and she whispered, “What are you thinking about?” Then we were kissing pretty intensely when I unbuttoned her pants, and she said, “We said we weren’t going to do this…”  I heard “You said that,” in my head, but can’t remember what I said next.  It was great to make love again.  We showered together.  I sat on my bed and she started dressing, and so I said, “Just stay with me tonight.”  She said, “I can’t.”  When she started out of my bedroom, I said, “Why?”  She said, “I’m not convinced that this ever needs to happen again.”  Sex with her never did.  In fact, I only saw her pre-arranged three more times the following year, and it was always in public. My dance of imbalance began.

Imbalanced

So, we had a going away party.  No clue why she came, but she did, and I guess that means that I saw her four times that New Year, but I don’t count this one, because I think it was very difficult for her to attend, and was shocked when I saw her walking in two and half hours after we had started.  It was emptying out, and there were only five girls left, and I was talking over my right shoulder and then she was suddenly in booth next to me.  I said, “You’re leaving?”  She said, “No, I have to finish that drink, but wanted to hug you and avoid the five person shuffle.” She embraced me tight, and I have no idea how I didn’t break down, but I didn’t.  The girls saw it, and probably after I left, that began the gossip, but I could barely function so it didn’t matter.  I remember one of them asking me if she and I were “good friends,” and I said, “We used to be.” One who is probably one of the most striking women I’ve ever seen not pictured in a magazine said, “Well, _______, is beautiful.”  And she is.  Not that I purport to “get her.”

About two weeks before that, I had driven partially off an icy bridge.  I hit the embankment, and was like, “Wow, what would have happened to me?”  Knowing the answer and seeing my son’s face, and realizing that I was not alright, I made a same-week appointment with a psychologist.  She helped steer me from active SI, but I could not sleep appropriately for four months.  I had an old blog at that time.  It is bizarre to read what I wrote:

I get a little nervous admitting this fact, as I’m sure that the flurry of responses to this entry will range from disbelief to profane.  But, until the end of last year, I had NEVER been hurt in a love relationship…  Ever.  I’m 33!!!  There was this kid that I was messed up about in high school who was four years my junior—scary—but that REALLY doesn’t count.  High school is so stupid.  I also had to end something in college, but I knew it was doomed from the beginning, so it was not something that could continue and it ending was a decision that I initiated.  My 11-year relationship HAD to end.  We both know that now based on so many things.  But…  These recent feelings are uncharted territories for me.

When I told a friend about this realization last night, she said, “Well, it’s about fucking time!”  She really wasn’t all that sympathetic, but then she got all sage-like, as she has a tendency to do (And incidentally, is one of the things that I really love about her.), and she said, “______, this was bound to happen.  You can’t avoid love nor can you wield it.  You’ll get over this when you are able.  It may be that someone helps you forget, or you may just begin to be O.K.  The latter could take a very long time, or you could be in the middle of a new relationship and something will remind you…”  Thanks, my friend.

So…  It’s an inextricable part of MY journey, which was wrought with very raw pain at the end of last year.  Everything is compounded though, because I am decisive, and sure of myself and my intuition, so parts of it have been extremely painful and difficult for me to discern.  The ultimate WTF moments have abounded.

I’m simply a person who just KNOWS nearly all of the time when it comes to people.  I guess that I’m not supposed to know the outcome of this situation.  I’m better than I was, but I still pine at times.  I also get very muddled and confused.  These are not typical emotions for me!  I am thankful not to be so raw though–that was truly awful off and on for about 5-weeks. My friend also quoted Michael Stipe a few times for me, which she said was “cheesy,” but I didn’t find it so.  Raw emotion is probably a universal experience that hits people at one time or another.  I just am so delayed in parts of my path, so that it took until my Jesus/Alexander the Great year to hit.

Epilogue

33 was a power year for me. I came out to everyone who I knew and one of my cousin’s responses was the best: “Well, duh. We all were wondering how the fuck you wound up marrying a man.” Hahaha. I’ve been out for 15-years.

Out completely with kids and staff at one site, and out with staff at the other site, which is why I was a mess a bit over the weekend and couldn’t bring myself to check email for a long time today.

I just had coffee in the climber’s office. It was nice to see her today. I wanted a hug, but it was a public and social day, so I’m going to lay low and hope that she contacts me. I’m not going to bother her with texts from me. We both have a vacation next week, so we’ll see if anything transpires. The other two possible situations have fallen flat, and that is cool. I want to go out on dates, connect with friends, and do my thing. It’s good for me to remember where I started and where I am going.

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And… She’s back

I got divorced in September, and I am adjusting to dating again. I can honestly say that having a relationship which is exclusive would not be something that I would be interested in for the next couple of years and maybe won’t ever be interested in that again. I have an almost 17-year-old now and saying he’s a handful is super mild. That is laughable, actually. I don’t want to bring women in and out of his life either. Until today, I couldn’t login to this blog for years because I hadn’t remembered that just using an old email that I no longer can access with a couple of common passwords would help with me logging in, and now I’ve read some of it it’s interesting to me that I thought that remarrying would be fulfilling. It so wasn’t. Now, I’m 48, have been divorced twice and married for a total of 17-years. Been there, and won’t do that ever again, and super on the fence about a long-term thing. I want to date.

I have always been very active. That’s why although I have a mountain of papers right now, I had to blog, because I’m jacked up sitting here at my desk and at least freewriting is like a semi-activity. I’ll walk the dogs after I do two more of these grading projects. They’re way more than just a paper and require massive feedback.

I have been obsessed with climbing movies and climbers for 5-years. But, that shit is DIFFICULT. I’ve hiked many a mile and done a little bit of bouldering, but am not a climber. I’d like to be though. My ex-wife encouraged me to take a class at a recreational outfitter and I did it well then, but it was probably 2014 or 2015. So, I retook it in August and it was a night that I was exhausted, so I didn’t do it as well. Then I took an outdoor artificial wall class wherein the second-day was outdoor. Real rock is next level.

I told my colleague about that class and she asked me to have lunch with her and tell her more. Then she said that we should go after work. She said that she and I and one of our colleagues would go together. When we did go, she was the one who showed up. She gave me a great hug. (I thought, “Oh, we hug?”) She drove to the route. When we got out to pack up she said, “I don’t get naked with colleagues so I’m asking if our relationship is shifiting?” I said, “I’m sorry?” And she explained that she was changing now, and I asked her if I should hold up a blanket to which she quickly replied, “No this is a climber’s space.” Naked for climbers, but not with colleagues, maybe? She took me up a very exposed route and I started dumping adrenaline and having trouble breathing at all. She was so sweet and said that she was so familiar with this side of the creek and that we could take another route so we did. I was able to go up 20-feet, so I felt accomplished. Definitely want to do that again.

That’s not the theme though. I had on Mary Janes and it was dark and I was slipping everywhere. By the time we got midway down the route at dusk my hands were porcupine laden with prickly pear quills. She took her phone out and gingerly began taking out the quills. I pulled back after a few. (“We touch each other too? Like not just when you’re comforting my afraid-of-heights-ass?) She asked what we were doing next and I told her that I had a recipe kit and could open a bottle of wine for us. She and I engaged in a great conversation and I was sad to get back to the parking lot where I met her and determined that we do, indeed, hug now.

We caravaned in our cars back to my house from the lot. She is handy in the kitchen. So good and quick chopping even, perfect mushrooms. She draped her arm around my waist. Wow. I slunk away after awhile. Not sure why. After dinner she asked if we could sit in my living room and her thigh was against mine. Nice. Good hug by her car before the night was over.

My son said that if I start seeing her, that I’m behaving like a Rock Star. His words, “She’s attractive, Mom. How old is she? Wow. That’s pretty Rock Star, Mom.” I don’t think that I care, actually. I’ve also made a promise to myself to stop referencing my age. She held my hands when I was shitting my pants given exposure, she pulled out quills with care, she put her arm around my waist, she pressed her right thigh against mine on my loveseat. She also played a playlist and danced with me outside in a gazebo and we climbed a tree afterward when we saw each other 1-1 again. It was all prelude. The third time that we saw each other we took a two-mile walk three-weeks after she helped me and I watched her expert climbing. After our walk, we drank tea, snuggled a bit and then made out until past 3:30 am. She’s been sick so we’ve not gotten together in two weeks. I’ll see her Monday though at work if she’s better. I have a weird job and work in different places on different days.

I went to a party for a colleague who has been significantly promoted. I met a neuroscientist there and we had a nice conversation. I was really excited last Saturday when she came to a group function because I didn’t know that she belonged to the group. I’ve asked her out in the group app (coffee or wine). We shall see. We have a nice connection.

At the beginning of last month, I met up with another woman with my two dogs and hers at the dog park. She had a health thing and emergency surgery, but I would love to see her again soon too.

I’m pushing 50 and want to date a ton. I read through some of these entries and I think that I’ve typically wanted a relationship more than just enjoying a date. I want to do that now. Just date. I don’t want to live in anticipation of tomorrow. I can just see what I see when I’m on a date with a woman and not think about anything else but that moment, and that date.