Tag Archives: Facebook

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Basics

I slept having multiple dream cycles. I haven’t slept well since I got back from my solo vacation. Except for some congestion and a minor sore throat, I feel excellent today.

I took a strength training class last night with MI. Her gym is female only. She asked me to give her options for boxing classes, so I’m going to call the boxing gym that I can go to and give her the schedule for the week of July 6th when I see her again on Sunday. Boxing class rips up my hands altogether, which is one of the reasons that I stopped, and it’s embarrassing that my overall lack of coordination with my legs unless I am climbing makes the movements difficult for me. However, she’s my friend and I want to do something fun with her next month.

I’ll go out of town today to meet Hockey’s two sons, bowl with them, and have dinner together.

I sunsetted my Facebook account completely yesterday. I had to go through years of photos, which got me emo. Downloading them took forever, but it felt great to just delete the whole thing. I made that account in 2007 or 2008, I believe. I’m glad that it’s gone.

The oppressive humidity that we had all day yesterday ultimately had a purpose and we got rain. That means that I can finally put my cylinder back in my rain gauge! I think that because we have been in a severe drought for five-months, it will take much for the ground to absorb moisture. Thankfully, when the arborists were here on Tuesday removing nuisance trees from the chain link fences around my huge backyard, they also dropped some mulch on the dirt around my shed. That night, I went to Home Depot to buy organic, non-dyed mulch for the places that were still barren (well-spent $20). This rain’s moisture will stay in the yard for the very few wildflowers that came up this year.

I have a matchmaking date in 6-days which will be sooooo interesting.

I began DMing with a woman who owns a petsitting business which she runs with one of her two adult daughters and even her 11-year-old granddaughter helps out. We moved to text last night.

I may be building some friendships atm. That sounds good. Dating apps are something else generally.

I have Hockey. I have MI. I had Scorpio who is conflicted generally and can’t have healthy conflict.

I wish that HER had a the ability to write in your own status message! Mine would say something to the effect of “Scammer liked you! Enjoy stock photos and DMs that are from a bot or pair of people in an office in Eastern Europe!”

I’m going to give Cookies and another woman deets for my Saturday and Sunday plans for Pride. They’re welcome to join me with a friend who is doing plans with me. I’m going with LA to a concert in the afternoon on Saturday, and with MI on Sunday to the parade which has a brand new route this year. I’ll probably stay out a bit on Sunday. MI can drink if she’d like as I’ll park. She can vape too if she’d like–just not in my car. (Scorpio was already high once and spaced out that she was in my car and absentmindedly took a hit and had to roll down my window as quickly as she could when she realized that she was in my car vaping 😳.) Oh, stoners!

Did I mention that I slept?

I wish that I could always just magically give myself sleep. Before menopause, and even when I was simply perimenopausal, I could just start sleeping. And being well-rested makes all the difference in the world with my mood! When we had a 5-hour layover in Phoenix to get home from HI after our honeymoon, my then wife watched me sleep in chairs at the airport. When I woke up she said, “You slept like that for 2-hours.” How I miss being an awesome sleeper!

Now we have an OG butcher shop that’s a 1.2 mile RT walk from my house. They have actual hoagies. The bread is white with a crust. (Please don’t tell me that Subway has real delicatessen bread. That’s not real.) I have had two of their sandwiches so far. It takes them a long time to make them and they’re worth the wait. I had one yesterday with corned beef and purple pickled cabbage.

Exercise, sleep and nuitrition.

And then the cherry is going back to basics with chopping wood, carrying water, and quieting unnecessary noise.

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Seasonal Anger

I process so slowly. It takes me forever to understand 1) impact and 2) what has truly gone on. I had met my ex-wife through a friend. Saying that I was obsessed with her by looking at her profile is more accurate, actually.

I spent about 18-months being stoned. I had a ton of issues turning 30, so I told a friend that I needed to get high. He said, “You won’t get high the first time that you smoke.” So, I told him that I was starting tonight–at 29, and I did. I got high with my Dad at my 30th birthday party, and it was the first time that I got stoned; although, I’d smoked probably a dozen times. Then, I didn’t do it much any longer.

When I was about 34, I was high for 18-months after I got home from work, and my son with his Dad. Then I had a terrible incident at a conference and didn’t smoke again. In this incident, I took one hit too many and had to crawl into one of the bathtubs. When the dominoes would hit the table in the front of the condo where we were staying, I felt like they were hitting me. I was awful. I don’t smoke or use. It’s legal now, as are some psychedelics. At times, I drink a lot of beer, and I do like Red Zin, but I don’t do any drugs–pot because of paranoia, and mushrooms because there is something that triggers my risk averse nature when I ponder that currently. Right place, right time, maybe.

Anyway, I saw a picture of my ex-wife while I was stoned. While high, I was with my friend whose sister with whom I’d gone to high school. We would open up Facebook and take turns logging in. The game is “Gay or Straight?” You play it stoned. She scrolled through my ex-wife’s profile.

“Straight.”

“Nope.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Her? This picture? Nice, hot. Are you fucking with me?”

“I am not.”

“When do I meet her?”

“You don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“She has stayed where we went to college. She has a whole community. She won’t ever leave the Northwest.”

“When does she visit?”

“Rarely. It’s been years. Honestly, no one hears from her much. We were high school best friends and college roommates.”

“I don’t care. When she does visit, I’ll meet her. We’ll date.”

*sigh / eye rolls / puff*

2012 – 37-years-old

She’s laying on a couch in a sun dress and gets up to meet me at her other best friend’s house. She had moved home five-months earlier. She smiles, sits up, walks toward me and shakes my hand. Beautiful: red hair, subtle make-up (it’s afternoon) and gray-blue eyes. I leave after an hour having gotten kicked out before ensuring that my friend will be able to get a ride back to her apartment because I drove.

We maintain an awkward friendship. She has a girlfriend. She always has a girlfriend. We eat some meals together, play cards, hang out with her girlfriend, and other times her mother and her mother’s boyfriend. She eats quiche at my house; she plays with my son. I hug hello and goodbye and keep my abdomen away from hers for a friendly hug, but I still embrace her tightly. Sometimes, I blush and other times my heart races a little, but with a girl like her, you don’t do anything weird. They break up and she dates, and I start dating the artist.

Right before I meet the artist, I go to my ex-mother-in-law’s house and have dinner there, and my ex-wife is crying because she is getting back with a woman who is polyamorous, in love with her ex, and likes to go to clubs to pick up multiple women, and gets upset that my ex-wife isn’t down for sex with women that they pick up and don’t know. She is crying and crying. I eat my salad, give her a hug, say goodbye to her mother and her mother’s boyfriend. The next weekend, I go to a wedding in a khaki skort, tank top that is at least embroidered, and black sandals with a heel. My friend says, “Why are you dressed casual?” This incredibly attractive brown haired woman with hazel eyes is kinda leering around my friend and I and she says, “Introduce me.” I hear it. My friend does. Later in the night, I hear my friend (she’s from Brooklyn) say “Don’t you think that I would have told you that I started dating a woman?!?!?!?” So, the artist pulls me out to dance and dances with me and on me. She can’t lead though, so it’s pretty awkward. She and I date for a couple of months, but don’t have sex. She is imbalanced and has pretty significant mental illness; although, she is gorgeous. She painted two pictures for me for my 39th birthday and they hang in my bathroom. Now, she lives in the mountains and is a mayor.

I start emailing with my ex-wife. We make plans over the course of a week and half through email. We were making dinner in her apartment that she called the treehouse. It had a separate entrance and was a large loft type of residence attached to a large house west of our city. We cook and we make out for two-hours. I go home soaring with emotion and arousal. I don’t want to have sex with her. I want to date her.

She has other plans. She wants to come down in two-days and do just what I think is too soon. I buckle. It was really good. She moves in with me three-months after that. We marry 7-months later. We never learn to resolve conflict. We knew each other ten-years, we were together for nine, and married for eight. I am pissed.

I’m angry about all the time that she would tell me that I get remote and blame me for absolutely everything in terms of our conflict. I talked to my best friend on Friday night and she said, “You worked and worked and worked on that–tirelessly. I think that you did absolutely everything that you could.” Even if that’s not true, I don’t miss all the imbalance. Move in with your Mom, move in with your sister, buy another residence, adopt more pets. Have 17 different jobs over the course of 10-years. Talk about conflicts at work over and over and over, freeze out your sister, fly home suddenly after “not feeling supported by” your Mom.

This June, I loved it when she finally moved out for good and we had a real fight. Not one in which I get quiet–I’m terrified by my temper–but one in which I told her how bizarre it was that she brought a man into our house (She has her own residence, but has a tenant.) and watched movies with him in the spare bedroom. “He didn’t touch your things.” “What? It’s my house!” “It’s mine too!” She never contributed to this mortgage, and has had her own since October of 2020; however, she made us refi together in 2014 which reduced the interest rate on this house and took 2-years off the mortgage. My ex-wife is really good with money and has good math and business sense. She could not see how disrespectful it was to have a date where my son and I sleep, and that I pay for, instead of going to coffee, a movie or a park with a man you met on the Internet. Talk about not seeing your part! That gelled it for me. I’ll never speak to her again. And, I am angry. Probably hurt too, and wonder if she ever truly loved me or if she was just doing what she knew her mother wanted her to, and liked the first couple years of really hot sex.

  1. I like a little bit of danger
  2. I like women who are more social than I am
  3. I want to have consistency
  4. I want to make a plan, and stick to that plan
  5. I want contact with a purpose
  6. In conflict, I want to take a break, come back and be accountable for things that I can change
  7. I want to grow
  8. I want to see what it’s like to be in love with at least two people concurrently