Tag Archives: Lesbian

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Challenger / Protector / Boss

What do I want to work on? Conflicts. I don’t care about them at work. There are some unreasonable consumers that I have for stakeholders, so I just disengage. I guess that is normal for who I am via the Enneagram because when I get stressed out I withdraw and think about my own things which are often pessimistic. The approach reads like a turtle. In the shell, head buried, stay in there, and then when you come out have a strategy. That’s gross. It is the natural stress point though with becoming an investigator when you’re under stress and are a Challenger.

One time in one of my buildings we were all stuck at work late at night because we are public servants and sometimes little makes sense and is a rule or simply bureaucratic. We were reading the Enneagram stuff and when it got to parts about an unhealthy 8, it basically described razing the area and everyone in the path to the ground whilst self-destructing. Hahahahaha.

The photographer said that I don’t seem like an 8, and that’s because I feel most comfortable living in the Giver and Helper, which is the heart of the 8. Like me, the climber is also an 8. I noticed that she only uses one noun to describe it: Protector. The photographer is a 3 and the term Achiever resonates with her. She told me that she is working on not having to accomplish daily.

I need to work on conflict. I am wondering if taking a walk would help the turtle. At that first twinge of disappointment / disagreement just say, “This situation seems to be going in circles. I’m going to take a walk, and come back in an hour. I value you and don’t want to say anything that is solely in anger.” I need to operate from a place of empathy when I come back and acknowledge any harm that I have caused.

Do you fight with lovers who you don’t live with and with whom you make concrete plans and only concentrate on those? I don’t think that you do. We had plans to climb the artificial wall at the Rec Center and those had to halt because we had a late meeting and celebration which ensued after the meeting was over. I didn’t trip out. And she didn’t trip out when I couldn’t find my car that night. She also had to cancel when she got rebound symptoms on 11/11 when we had plans. I didn’t trip out. I texted her that if she’d like we should go to a play, symphony or ballet sometime because I didn’t know how my hair looked straightened since I stop dyeing it, and we should do so and get dressed up together. She thought about it for three-weeks and then asked and we did it! No fight. No conflict. Not that we’re lovers… Yet.

I haven’t spent enough time with the photographer to test my evolving theory. I hope that she can make Tuesday work, because I had to flake out on indoor climbing and dinner plans with my old work husband and his real wife. Now, he’s got to reschedule those. I just have to watch the weather for winter summits. Those can be really impossible in windy conditions.

When the photographer and I got back to the trailhead where I parked on Sunday, I’d asked her if I could take her to lunch and she said that she had a 4 o’clock and that made me really conscious of the time. I think that I got back to her car at 3, so she made it. She said that she would not have any plans after our plans for the next get together. Again, no conflict. I still need to work on my skills with them though.

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Blue-eyed, Millennial Capricorns

She embraced me too–super mutual embrace.  She remarked that I was obviously good people because I was acquainted with my best friend as is she.  I asked her if she was allergic to dogs and she exclaimed, “No, did you bring pups?!?”  I said that I hadn’t,  but wanted to drive and couldn’t do so if she was allergic due to dog hair in my vehicle.  She hopped in.  I drove west.  And when I turned off to start heading up to the trailhead from the highway I said, “It’s so beautiful up here. I’ve not been up here in a long time,” and she talked about hiking there last weekend.  I turned around and got back on the highway.  She was taken aback and did laugh, but was very surprised.  I actually had intended to head more west, but the road was confusing so we were heading back, so I decided to turn into the road that goes into town and she told me that she’d shot a wedding here.  I said, “I want to hike somewhere new to you!”  She said that she swore that it was right there only and hadn’t been on the back side of the trail.  We found the trailhead with her help and she started talking to me about what she is going through right now with a friend of hers and it is a lot–scary stuff.  That opened the door to my being really open with her.

The photographer talked about her family, she talked about her ex, so I talked about two of mine including my ex-wife.  And she told me where she’d arrived with her friend and care of her.  She’s solid.  She is also very sexy, multilingual, does a daily Yoga practice and dances.  She has her own businesses and has a flexible work schedule.  We talked about her bike too.  I want to ride with her as well.  She told me that she’d never done a high peak and that friends are always saying that they’re going to take her up one.  I’ll have to lend her snow pants and they won’t fit her super great, and we should maybe both rent crampons.  I am reasonably sure that I have two sets of trekking poles, but have to look.  I know the one that we’ll do and have done winter mountaineering one time on a rope team, so I feel confident.  We just have to look for the best high pressure day next week because it can get windy and miserable.  The forecast looks safest in 8-days. 

I talked about my recent shift into believing in polyamory.  I explained a few times that it’s weird to have many friends and one partner.  I talked about how odd it is that one person would believe that she could be all for another.  We talked about my best friend’s desire to be with a woman, and how it freaks out her husband.  I said that they should swing, and then realized that would mean that my best friend would also be providing some intimacy to a man other than her husband and it 1) really grossed me out, and 2) helped me understand that would be incredibly complicated.  It would be easier for them to have a woman that they had an understanding with, but it’s off the table because he’s jealous.  It makes me sad for her. 

She almost fell and noted how quick my reaction time is.  I would have caught her.  Parts of the trail were incredibly icy.  I’m going to have to buy new boots finally because there is a part of them that has no tread at all.  I slipped a couple of times, but it wasn’t anything serious.  We must have hiked almost 8-miles.  I keep my phone in my back pocket, but it lowballs things if I don’t specifically run the app and rely on it to run in the background.  If I run it specifically to track though, it drains my battery.  It tracked us at 5.8-miles.  Regardless, we gained lots of elevation and I was STARVING when I got home. 

It was a great first date.  We embraced again outside her car, and she said, “Nice to meet you,” and I said in her ear, “We’ve met.”  She blushed a little and laughed and said, “Oh, I know.”  She’s much more cautious than the climber.  She’s also almost exactly two-years older than her.  It’s really odd.  The climber’s birthday is one day in the next three-weeks (37), and the photographer’s is three days after that (39).  Incidentally, my best friend’s follows in three-days and my son’s three days after that, but they are Aquarii.  My love interests are blue-eyed Millennial Capricorns.  I like this part of my life.

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Drinking with the climber: Points of reflection

She had to go to a legal conflict resolution session with her ex yesterday because the person leading it couldn’t meet on Monday. When I got to my event, one of the other professors and her female partner left. It was really awkward. I made a joke about it, and they said it was their one-year anniversary, but it was odd. I told them that I would see them in March because they’re organizing cross country skiing. That’s something that I want to learn how to do, and all the classes that I tried to sign up for at the beginning of the month are now full, so I’m really glad that one of the professors with whom I work has organized a trip. The other professors and I hung out for about an hour and she finally texted that she was on her way! By that time, only the woman who is a mentor to me and did my post-doc for me was there, but I’ve known her years and she was a little lit, so she was being super fun when the climber got there.

She looked so tired. I put my arms around her and hugged her tight, but her energy was really low. She came back to be with us and I said, “I’m getting a beer!” I had drunk water for an-hour-and-a-half because of my baggage / experience. My ex who is dying would be loaded all the time.

I flew to Mexico in 2010 for Thanksgiving and she missed me at the airport and all the resorts there have the same name, so with my Spanish that is high school Spanish, I hailed a cab and drove around. Finally the cab driver said, “Do you think that this one is it?” I sat in the lobby. She hadn’t even bothered to give me her mother’s last name. I used the courtesy computer and emailed her and sat in the lobby for an hour (Does anyone reading this entry remember international roaming and being unable to text?). At that point, a woman who I believed to be her sister, and her nephew, and his girlfriend got off the elevator in swimsuits and towels. I ran toward them and introduced myself. If I remember correctly, they said that my ex was at the pool or in a cabana or something, or maybe she’d gone to the room? My ex did apologize, but she was really tipsy. When I flew into Key West for our last trip ever in September of 2011, I finally found her in a pool at a hotel wherein she’d texted me the name because at least that trip was in country. She was topless swimming in a pool and got out eventually when she saw me.

Don’t drink when your date isn’t there yet. Don’t even order a beer or glass of wine. Read the room, and energy. When she got there she had a Moscow Mule, I believe, and later had an Old Fashioned. I can’t drink hard alcohol, so I had two IPAs. I was definitely tipsy. She can hold alcohol way better than I can. I’ve now made a decision. No more solitary drinking. I have had a beer most nights for many, many years. But, I am done. I’ll have two beers with a friend or on a date when my date is drinking. I also will have beers when I cook for friends. It’s time for me to shift some habits and not mute things that are annoying through drinking when I’m home alone with my son. It’s dissociative. So is watching a movie on my phone. No more alone tactics like these.

My mentor puts everyone at ease and is extroverted, reads well dynamics, and the climber started getting acclimated and livened up a ton. The climber is so charming, funny and easy to talk to. She bantered with my mentor and they discussed grading in a post-COVID environment, living and teaching abroad, and also my mentor told stories from her youth and the climber engaged, was laughing and asking her questions, and was so easy and fun. What a contrast from my ex-wife who was so awkward all the time around my colleagues. She wouldn’t even let me have colleagues over for dinner and when my mentor came over after I turned 40 and had dinner with me, she buzzed around the kitchen. My mentor remarked again on how beautiful my ex-wife was. Although true, I don’t miss having to limit any social interactions and worry that when we were around people–particularly those who are educated–she would sometimes fight with me after they left. She’s not like that with her family, or two of her friends from high school, but isn’t comfortable around many people. I can’t believe that I convinced myself it was normal.

My mentor left around 8:30 or so, and the climber said, “Can I join you?” and snuggled up with me in the booth. I said, “I would love to take you out to dinner.” She said, it was probably around nine, “The hour for fine dining has passed.” I cracked up. I asked her about the conflict resolution and she said that there was some limited headway. I was so glad. We talked about how our vacations were going to shake out. She kissed me and I told her it was my lifetime quota for kissing in public. I said, “Quota is the wrong word. It’s that I’ve kissed you in public more than anyone who I have been with combined.” I said a few phrases in Spanish, and she got all fired up. Spanish just has some precision in phrasing that doesn’t translate well in English, so I use them. Check. Going forward will speak in Spanish for at least part of the night every time we’re connecting.

She ate some sweet potato fries, and I was no longer hungry at all. We talked and talked. She explained her impressions of people and not seeing gender in anyone. She talked about three days with her sister and Mom and Dad for Christmas. She talked about her camping plans. This time, she didn’t ask me about dates that I have (I have only one.) and generally seemed more confident about my not wanting exclusive. I did tell her that when I make plans, I would like to pay. I also told her that I want to go caving with her and do some hiking or climbing in the south. I think that we can do that this summer or spring. She is always game for an adventure.

We kissed, and I put my hands all over her arms and also was touching her left thigh. I always wind up touching the tops of her hands. They’re fascinating. I finally got to palm mine with hers. It’s remarkable because mine are so small for my height and hers are huge for hers. We talked about being the shortest and darkest in our families. She touched my right leg once and said, “You have on corduroys too!” We both like the sensory experience of wearing them and petting them. We talked about doing that when we are sitting or in meetings and love the feel of them. I used the word “basic.” She said that illustrates the only age difference. I guess I get it, but I am WYSIWYG. My son calls girls in white Adidas who have a certain look “basic,” so that must have been what the climber was referencing.

She got tired, hit a wall, and I put on my gear and she walked me out. When I put on my reflection straps and helmet, I felt like a dork. I apologized, and she said, “I’m waiting until you get that put away (my lock) and then I’m getting another kiss.” I remembered her her side comb, and said, “I have something for you.” She said that it was from her wedding. Besides her shoes, it was the only thing that she’d removed after the ballet when I was ultimately in a bra and underwear in my bed. I think that she was younger than me when she married the man who she’d ultimately been with for 17-years of her life. I got married to a man at 23, and was a child. I only have our album, and don’t have the garter or anything from my hair or the jewelry. I’m going to thrift my wedding dress from my second wedding over vacation. The climber talked about liking having something fancy from her wedding and I agreed. She looked so beautiful with her hair fixed last week for the ballet. I like her in a beanie, corduroys, and a down jacket too. I just like her.

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Exciting reconnection

My best friend is a musician. She is also very, very extroverted. During the height of the first COVID summer my ex-wife and I were in her backyard with another couple drinking and eating cheese and veggies. I had brought a beautiful bottle of Rosé, and it was good, and the bottle and stopper were gorgeous. I was drinking. My ex-wife doesn’t drink at all. Awkward doesn’t scratch the surface. One of the women with whom she’d performed in an amazing canyon the summer before just has dark energy. Her partner sat mostly quietly. My ex-wife wanted to leave when we got there. That wasn’t unique.

My best friend was having a concert this October and it was going to be at the partner’s house. Not sure when the couple broke up. I’ll find out soon. The concert was fairly inexpensive, but the people she’d invited couldn’t afford it, so it was cancelled. My best friend was disappointed because she really wants me to be connected with this woman. Last Wednesday, my best friend had lunch with her and she told her to give her my number. Not sure why my best friend wasn’t down for that, but she sent us a connection email.

Here is what I wrote back to the connection email:

“Hi, ___,

Do you hike or cycle?

Kindly,

______.”

Several days later I got back the cutest email. She doesn’t remember me. When you’re in partnership that’s exclusive and you live together it has an effect on what you see, connect to, and are open with in terms of others. I sent her a picture of a glass wine stopper because she had complimented the bottle two-years ago–my God, it will be three in July, and now that I’m thinking about it, I think that bottle is in my son’s room with a plant in it, but I wanted her to have a visual of something she’d said to me then. She had given me her number in the cute email, so we’ve exchanged lots of texts Monday through yesterday. I wasn’t heavily flirtatious or anything, but we’d just made plans so I wanted to her to have the knowledge that we did indeed meet almost three years ago so I sent that picture.

She had said in her email that she’d like to get a drink/coffee/hike/bike. I made hiking plans with her for Sunday. I actually can’t wait! She’s really cute. Reddish, blondish hair, large blue eyes. I can’t remember, but I do think she’s taller than me which is my historical norm. I want: great conversation, and two hugs. I want the last hug to be tighter and closer. Of course, I’ll get what I want and that’s exercise. I need a woman with whom I can hike and bike who I think is attractive. I don’t necessarily need to be taught something from a woman such as climbing or dancing, because it creates a power differential, which I don’t think is super healthy with someone who you kiss.

The climber is all stressed out. When I see her on Thursday at the tail end of my work party, I’m just going to give her a hug and read her energy. She had to make an appointment for Thursday and I thought that it was going to be Monday, but the person helping her with legal navigation with her ex wasn’t available on Monday. I don’t have any expectations for Thursday and have loved our last four times together with the exception of her worrying that I want to be her girlfriend after the ballet. I don’t want a girlfriend/partner.

I tell everyone the same thing. I don’t want to live with anyone, I don’t want a marriage, and I never want financial entanglements. I don’t have the energy that is required in exclusive love relationships. I also have come to a decision that like your friends, you can have girlfriends that you like to do different things with: go to dog parks, potlucks, adventures, dress-up dates, hikes, etc. I really don’t even have enough experience yet to know all the possibilities. I will tell you that after I broke up with my ex who is likely dying that I went straight into another partnership and was convinced of a “one.” That is nauseating bullshit. I’m not everything for anyone and why would there be for me?

I’m not afraid of commitment. I could be with two or three different women and those could be the ones who I see. I do think that when sex occurs that I’ll go back to therapy. The climber was super relieved that I’ve had a date since she belayed me and that I had asked out another woman who said life was hectic right now. I’m not sure what she was thinking, but I don’t want to talk about other women with women and she said that she wants to hear that stuff. I won’t give details unless I’m asked though, because I don’t want repeats of what I had in 2010 listening to a woman bitch about another woman she is intimate with, because that doesn’t work for me. Again, when things progress physically, I will get a new therapist.

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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
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The Ballet with the Climber

She came into my house having been running a few minutes late. After a bit, we embraced, and I can’t tell you how great that it felt for me to have her arms around me again. She titled her head and kissed me. We kissed. She had on sparkly heels, ear rings, a matching necklace and a tight purple dress. I just can’t get over her body. And when she wears a dress that’s fitted at the waist it’s a singular experience to be able to walk behind her and watch her glide.

I had jacked myself all up with nerves given the long period in between when we’d seen and touched each other. I was so nervous, a little jumpy, and then after we were on the train having taken my car to the Park N Ride, I relaxed and eased in. She had told me that she was curious about my nerves. I told her that I process slow. It’s true. I retold her and with all the detail when I watched her climb, fix leads, and rappel and she belayed me up 20-feet. She said is that when your son said that “You’re a Rock Star? That’s good. A Rock Star. I think it’s a compliment.” After some laughter and cuddling, I was back to that ease that I have with her.

We were off to the side but only about 12 rows back in the Orchestra. It’s some of the best seats that I’ve ever had. We touched and held each other. Because she has her own dance company and teaches, it was consuming to watch it with her. I’ve seen it probably 8-times actually, but I got so much out of it not only given our seats, but watching detail given my picking up on her energy when we touched or followed the same gaze toward the stage.

After intermission, she kissed me in my seat. She said, “Is that ok here?” It had turned me on a little bit, so I said, “Yes, of course.” She kissed me again. When the lights dimmed for the second act, I kissed her. We settled back in to watch it. The performance was great.

A brass band was playing outside and we swayed together a little and then after 5 songs she took me to the busy sidewalk and danced with me. I told her that it wasn’t our gazebo. Her boldness combined with sensuality gets me whole body and mind. We walked back to the train and kissed. She asked me again and I told her that I’ve had partners who wouldn’t even hold my hand. I think that my ex who is dying would kiss me occasionally, but it was when she was really drunk, so I hated it because it was embarrassing. My ex wife would hold my hand only every once in awhile and then would get worried that people were looking at us. The climber could care less.

We snuggled and talked on the train. I asked her if this was a date, and she said, “I think that this is actually a date.” When we got up to the surface parking she thanked me for suggesting the train and said it was great to talk and cuddle. I opened her door for her and shut it gently and said, “I’m closing your door because this IS a date.” When I got into my garage, I said, “Can you please come in?” and I slowly unbuttoned her wool overcoat and hung it in my hall closet. We got into my bed and she gave me a lot of shit for the decorative pillows. I don’t like taking all that stuff off and on either and can’t wait to get new bedding actually. We made out and I said, “I don’t care that you have on a dress, but I’m taking mine off because it’s uncomfortable.” Hers clung to her body and was fitted at the waist. Mine was sleeveless and a straight cut with a high collar and back, and was too constricting. She told me that she hadn’t packed for her weekend and we couldn’t do 3:30 again, and I agreed. We made out and she told me that I have the softest skin.

I think that she’s worried that I want something from her that she doesn’t want to give. I told her definitively that I don’t want to remarry and I don’t want to live with anyone. I told her, “_____, I don’t expect something exclusive. There’s something so immediate about being with you, and I’m so cautious and careful (Frankly, I can be risk aversive, but I didn’t say that.) that it’s so good for me to do things with you that I would never do normally as you open up possibilities for me.” There is this tenderness with us too wherein we lay so quietly and touch or just gently hold each other. I think that she calls this quality “sweet,” and it is. I just want to see her monthly when I can, and I want us to concentrate on those plans that we have. And when it works, I want more plans.

I’m still going to prowl. I will probably go back to the group with the neuroscientist who shot me down and the other woman who went to the dog park with me before she had a health thing. I’m not swiping. I want to meet women organically and connect when it makes sense. Until my next adventure, I’ll have my intrusive thoughts about the climber.

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Sexuality

I think that in 1992 in my Advanced Placement Psychology class I was exposed to the work of Alfred Kinsey, and it made a ton of sense to me. At the time, I had a girlfriend who probably most people knew was my girlfriend, and my parents were disturbed by it and made me leave my bedroom door open suddenly in my sophomore year and bought bunk beds for me–hahahaha, neither were a deterrent. Anyway, I started thinking today about how overly simplistic his research was, and it was the ubiquitous white man research which was common until very recently. Also, it was likely a self-of-therapist activity for him because he was actively bi-sexual and his wife was cool with it, which is super evolved for the 20s and 30s. Again, lucky that he was a white, educated guy and could act on his orientation.

So, it’s a 0-6 point scale and you had to, through interview, talk about your sexual experiences with people so Kinsey and his researchers could determine your sexuality. It’s pretty concrete and reductive. “0” meant that you were heterosexual and “6” meant that you were homosexual. Men would sometimes say in interview that they only received oral sex from other men and that they were decidedly straight. It sounds much like conversations that I had with straight girls in college who said that they were virgins and had provided oral sex all weekend, and every weekend at fraternity parties to 18-20-year-old guys.

Kinsey himself knew that sexual behavior changes over time. I think it’s helpful for me to think about that because at least one of the reasons that my marriage ended was because my ex-wife wants to explore men. I actually think that the sexual thing will have to be shaped, but in terms of my friendships with men, they’ll be a good match for her. She’s really quiet and in her head. Men, who I have been friends with anyway, have shorter conversations with me, unless they want to talk specifically about music, books or an activity. Women, who I’ve known, tend to flow through tons of topics in one sitting. One of my friends was playing pickleball with three girlfriends and the men playing on the court next to them said, “Please stop, you’ve definitely filled your word quota today.”

After I graduated from high school, I spent at least 6-years REALLY wanting to be heterosexual. Much of it was because my brother was killed and I’m a surviving child and wanted to produce offspring and become conventional in the eyes of my mother. My Dad was so easy to come out to when I did so with nearly everyone at the age of 33. He said, “Live your life and be happy.” My Mom never dealt with it nor did she accept it; although, she adored my ex-wife. My Mom tended to worry about me anyway so I’m sure that she got a lot of solace when my ex-wife told her that she was going to take good care of me the afternoon before my Mom died. I used to call my Mom coming off a mountain or two from the highway so she wouldn’t know what I’d just done.

I spent 9-years married to a man. He’s bookish and introverted. He does that thing too wherein he can’t read body language and won’t tie up a conversation in which it can alter into a monologue. Sexually speaking there were some things that I have no interest in at all. Additionally, I just look at male arms and sometimes legs. I think that I’m envious of the amount of lean muscle. It’s not a thing that I want to touch. I feel 5ish.

Kinsey was completing this interview research in the 50s and then in the mid-80s it was detailed and looked at from the lens of ensuring that gay and lesbian people were appropriately sampled in the research. What now with folks who are decidedly bisexual or pansexual? What about people who don’t have any sexual inkling for whatever reason and are asexual? Of course many of these orientations are also related to gender identity and maybe somewhat gender expression. That would have to be included too.

Kinsey’s construct made sense to me when I was 18 and 19 and now that I’m not only reflecting on my life, and also talking to people about sexuality and gender, I wonder what truly applies on a 0-6 scale? My best friend told me a couple of weeks ago, “All women are bisexual.” I don’t think that is true. I think that what you’ve explored physically for people who are not asexual gives you good information, and I like that now I know that will change over time. I asked her if she and her husband ever swung with a couple and she said that freaked him out when he was asked and that he wants to be her everything. No one is complete for anyone. That is bizarre. It applies to sex too, I would imagine. I’m thinking about people, sexuality, gender and where people are with their own 0-6.

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Push it

Not Salt and Peppa. I’m trying to force myself to go to a new bar in two-hours. My son and I did our community walk this morning, and then I did some deep cleaning of some items. I ate some food and biked nearly five-miles. I did a group ride of 8-miles and biked about 5-home, so I feel good about exercise today.

Tomorrow I’m doing a new abs routine. I want to do that and arms once a week. I don’t need a legs day. One time my Dad said, “Your legs look like a guy’s.” I’m glad.

The CEO had scary piano legs. Probably not much that you can do about that because it’s genetic.

My left leg was crushed in 1988 so the shin is really crooked, but I’m still fit. I just have a small left leg. When I was doing telesurveys in 1997 the creepy, tiny, overly developed ex-boxer told his partner, “Her legs don’t match.” Well, no shit, you little shit! My right leg is actually phenomenal. My ex wife called me “long thighs.” I have a knee muscle and four muscles on my calf. Again, don’t need a legs routine.

The arms are really coming back and I’m happy about that. Stomach. Sad. When my leg was crushed, and my pelvis in three pieces, the triage team was concerned that I had internal bleeding so they cut through my abdominal wall quickly in the vertical which left a large pink scar that I can’t tattoo over like I’ve done with my compound fracture scar on my tiny left leg. Makes for difficulty sculpting my stomach, but I’m motivated. What does Kevin Spacey say when his family male neighbor asks about his fitness goals? Oh, yes, “I want to look good naked.”

Back to the bar and pushing myself out. My friend had COVID all week, so she can’t do anything for three more days and then has to mask for 6 more days. We’ll prowl on December 29th. Yay. Monthly prowls.

However, I should go sing at the new bar, right? Maybe I’ll get an Uber. I’m writing and drinking. I was excited that they had karaoke by my house, and I called to confirm and he told me that the KJ now does it at a different bar. I need to go right? I had a couple of short conversations on the ride, so I don’t know if I will. I know that I should, but it’s not likely.

I might just cook four portions of food and hang. My brother would be 39 tomorrow. So, so sad. I would happily split the proceeds of the house less the realtor 10%, the 75K to the ex-wife and such. I wish that I had family close. My aunt took care of my parents’ house until my Mom died and then she moved 3-weeks later. I miss her too. Glad that I have my cousin half-an-hour away. It doesn’t matter if we don’t see each other for months, as we can just talk and talk, and talk.

Yikes. One beer and I’m really, really slowed down. I’m kid-free, but probably not going out tonight. The new bar can wait. If my friend didn’t have COVID, I would prowl though. I only need one short adult conversation everyday anyway, and I talked to three people for probably 20-minutes total during the ride. I biked 2/3 of the way home with this nice guy too. I hope to see him again. I love bro time. That’s all I need. A little adult convo, some bro time, and I’m usually ok. I just wonder if I should solo prowl and push myself. I just did the online Magic 8 Ball. “Should I force myself to go out?” “Don’t count on it.” Done. Not pushing it.

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Swallow them

Do you have to swallow your words? I do. I think–use fewer going forward.

I wrote this on August 12, 2008: So, I went to a new bar tonight and sang a couple of my old favorites.  It was fun, but the hotties there were jailbait.  I don’t want to be 10-years older than someone who I am dating.  That is frightening!  When the hell did I get so old?  Seriously, who do I have to punish?  Glad that one class is done and all work is accounted for–so now it’s onto finishing up my last two papers for the other course.  Goodnight.

Uh oh. What about when you’re trying to start dating someone 11-years, three-months and 28-days younger than you. She’s so not jailbait. She is a dancer, an artist, a climber, kindhearted, charming, sensual, open, funny, bold, and sexy. I don’t care about age.

I think of Harrison Ford for me anyway: “It’s not the years, it’s the mileage.” I have to get surgery next week to cut out the prickly pear cactus quill from my palm. Fucker. I should have let her take all of the quills out on October 6th! I got one out of my thumb and another out of my heart line of my palm, but this thing is tenacious. When she was taking them out, I pulled away. I pulled away later in my house when she had her arm around my waist too, and it took until she pressed the length of her thigh against mine on my loveseat for me to deal. Probably because I had two glasses of Red Zin too. Why do I have to keep telling myself that she came onto me first? Turns out that I kissed her first though. I had to ask. I wasn’t actually sure on the 30th of October so I asked her when she was laying on my chest in between kissing. I knew I’d kissed her neck, but didn’t know who made the first move with our lips.

Back to the quill: it’s below the forefinger on my palm. I guess that is the mount of Jupiter. It says on the proverbial Internet that that area of your hand is associated with power. I feel so relaxed around her when it’s just us. I can just be. I’ve told her things that I keep so private and it just rolls out. I’m cautious, so that’s weird. I just trust her. The quill disarmed my power. Hahahahaha.

I am so excited for the ballet. I called her last night and she had stressful things going on, so we couldn’t talk and I liked hearing her voicemail. We texted a little today. Oddly, we are both communicating with lawyers. She is dealing with her house, and I am beginning the slow process of my parents’ estate. I need to eat some food, and go to bed. I have an incredibly long day tomorrow and today my mother has been gone one year. 😦

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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 may do that because the cross country ski classes are all full this fall and winter!

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 tubing 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 solo camp on 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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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.

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New Chapter

I worked through a lot of things in this blog, and so I am not going to write here any longer.  I’ll leave it up for another year, and then will take it down.  I’m going to start a brand-new blog as me.  I happily abandon dating, despair, pretending that I can work with women with whom I’m not compatible, and needing self-of-therapist activities nearly everyday.  I thank all of my readers and those who stopped by to Like a post.  I appreciate everything that you imparted to me over the last two-years.  It’s now time for me to write anything that I want to as myself.

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Engagement

I gave her a playlist on a CD, and a pink journal to write her dreams in and also things for our wedding.  I had taken what I remember from seeing her through my friend’s FB and then finally meeting her in July of 2012 for the words, and then songs that I listened to during the torturous part of 2013 before we finally got our timing together.  Before we left, we made love, and were able to reflect on the holiday season and the time that we had with her sister who surprised the family with a visit.  We had an incredible time with her listening to hair rock and playing Super Nintendo’s Super Mario World.  It was a retro fest of love.

Her sister drove home on Friday–which takes about 11-12 hours, and afterward we cleaned out our pantry after I had brought my dog back from the dog park.  We had to drive back to her kick-ass apartment and pack it.  Her mother and her mother’s boyfriend are in GA and left their SUV, so we were able to basically get everything down to our house.  I don’t think that there is much left, and we hung some shelving and got things into the pantry.  It was a really busy day before we left to get engaged.

We drove two-and-a-half hours, and then soaked in springs until night fall.  The first night was cloudy, but it was very nice.  The stars were phenomenal the second night.  We took a small hike today.  I love her.  I love being engaged.  I love starting my life on stable ground.

View from the trailhead

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Adjustments

We’ll be making them winter through the spring, I would imagine.  I’m excited to sleep with her every night and not just for physical reasons, but because I wake up a lot earlier when she is not here because I wonder what she’s doing.  It is nice that we both sleep well next to each other given our level of trust that we have for each other.

I had a long day yesterday.  I wasn’t done with work until 6 and then I had to drive to our church because my son had to learn his percussion part for the Christmas services.  The woman with whom I had that emotional affair was there and she looked tired given that she is going through a brutal divorce.  At the end of the night, I hugged her super tight and told her that I was sorry.  I’m not sure that she has been held like that.  It made me think that my partner and I have something really special.  We hold each other tight all the time, and I don’t think that is something that everyone gets.

Apparently, the woman who my partner had half-heartedly tried to date exclusively who she met when she was ending her relationship called her last night too.  I was thinking that it was probably around the time that I had hugged the woman at church.  She told me that she would have to call me back when I called her because this woman was really sick.  When I say that it’s not because she is having surgery, but it’s because she has a condition that is degenerative.  While that is really too bad, I was fuming.  I don’t want her calling my partner because she had every chance in the world to treat her right and was awful.

I told my partner that it was a weird boundary and was gamey.  I asked her to text her that I needed her tonight and that she should reach out to her friends.  I guess that she had told her that the news was so awful that she wanted to tell her instead, because they “weren’t in each other’s lives anymore.”  Whatever.  You had your chance, and you were a shit who wanted side relationships, so there you are.  You got nothing. And honestly, it’s because your foundation was nothing but some open stuff that my partner needed to get space between her and her serious girlfriend–who also called her last night.

I remember nights that I’ve had like this one.  You know when your exes would come out of the woodworks and try to connect with you, and typically it was when I was either dating someone new or having some shifts within myself that propelled me toward wake-ups within myself.  I think that when you’ve been physically intimate with someone more than once, you have a collective of energy between you that can result in universal shifts when you are having new experiences.  That is an adjustment as well.

Here is what I took away that was new:

  1. We honestly don’t fight
  2. My partner is the nicest person who I know
  3. She has fewer exes than me because girls would never want to let her go
  4. I’m looking forward to learning how to encourage her to make this relationship work for her
  5. Timing does it’s own thing and you cannot wield it directionally
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Reflections

I only have three-days of work left and then I go on a fairly long vacation.  It will be nice, given the disruptions to my doctoral process, and because I’m adjusting to my new life.  I’m thinking about how grateful I am again this morning, because I have begun my life with a woman who simply fits into mine by just moving into it.  She doesn’t ask me to defend the way that I do things, but gently comes forward and is accommodating rhythms that we had, yet she adds to them.  Enhancement and comfort is her way and I love it.

I read over my About page on WordPress and realized that it can’t be reworked.  I just need to rewrite it because everything that I’m doing is so new.  I have this amazing partner whose pictures still make me say, “My God, she is so hot,” and yet given our intimate connection when we talk, laugh, and make love, I know that I will not ever date again.  I’m glad too, because I was really sick of dating.

She’s mine.  I can’t believe that, but she is truly mine.  (These kind of assertions make me realize that I will never be Buddhist.)

Tomorrow night we will finally get our tree.  We didn’t sleep together last night, but of course we talked, and I was able to sleep well this time even without her with me last night.  I just sleep better with her there.  I never had a solid night of sleep with my ex.  I guess one time we slept late–until 8–in my bed, but she was so wound up all the time and also needed the tv on so that she could distract herself into falling asleep.  We were just incompatible.

When someone is as gentle as my partner is, you just relax, get warm and sleep.  After talking to me, she was able to get me where she can when we are in bed together.  I was just warm and drifting off to sleep.  I appreciate her way.  I’m lucky to bask in her light and love.

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Coffins

I’ve had some funny and non-coincidental things come up in the last week.  I’ve experienced some really weird stuff with respect to my doctorate, and I had some account fraud in my checking account.  However, it’s funny to me that those things are not really bothering me too much because there is a solidarity that I’ve never experienced as a result of being with my partner.  We picked up our rings last night, because we go away to the mountains in a couple of weeks so we can get engaged.  I have a surprise for her at the spa,  but I’m not going to write about it here, because when she’s not busy, she reads my blog.  🙂

I was up Thursday fairly early, because I cook for my mental health partner who has a four-month-old every Thursday when we share our office.  I was peeling carrots and cutting them up with celery, garlic, and onions and I got a picture from my ex.  She had broken her arm severely and had a caterpillar of stitches down the arm.  It looked awful.  We texted back and forth a little bit and the timing of them had a funny moment.  She asked about the artist and I said, “OMG, no.  She’s a nice person, but not for me,” and she responded, “Women can’t live with them, can’t kill them.”  Then I followed up my text having not read hers yet and told her about my upcoming engagement.  She wants to meet her.  I will not drive up there, and I wouldn’t invite her down here, so unless we run into each other, it’s not going to happen.  So odd.

I guess that one of my friends is right.  She can’t stand an unfavorable impression from anyone.  I just think that she exercised a lot of her rage and discomfort with the way of things that did not sit well with her, toward me.  Although I have called her the queen of displacement and projection, I don’t have anything that lingers in terms of a reaction.  It was a past, and I still learned four good things from her given our dating.  That’s it.  But, I don’t desire a friendship in the slightest.  We are just cool.

I saw the artist’s second son last Saturday.  He is a such a neat kid.  It was wonderful to connect with him and his father who is married to another friend of mine.  My son asked about her younger boys yesterday.  I may shoot her an email and invite them to his birthday party at the end of next month.  I’m not going to make a definite decision about that though until well after the holidays.  She and I just don’t work and are in different places.  I think that I confused timing with the right friend.  It was timing with this friend who is cooking veggies and eggs right now.

Death of things is not final.  After the coffin is closed, there is life around because of the mark of others.  I’m grateful for closed doors and the green and new of my journey.

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My slow path to introversion

My Dad moved us all the time.  I went to five elementary schools.  I think that there were a total of 13 different rentals that we lived in prior to buying our house, and in a universal sick thing, my brother was killed after we had lived in the house that was bought just a bit over a year.  I think that everyone’s childhood is a bit messed up, so I don’t think that I have the corner market, but I sure have changed now that I’m middle aged.

My son asked me last night how many years I have left, and having seen a Vedic Astrologer in 2008, I just told him that number and then I realized that I have fewer left than I’ve had.  I have changed the basic structure of my personality too, which certainly gives me pause.  I’ve also become less dominant in general.

I had to make new friends all the time.  So, I talked to everyone, but I also listened.  I developed the persona that I could talk to anyone, and I did.  I think that this particular trait came in handy especially when I was selling software or CDs.  (I loved that job at the record store.)  I participated in class, I did forensics, I sought some leadership positions, and in college, I realized that I was only a mediocre actor, so I began *attending* the theater instead of trying out.  I figured, at the time, that was my litmus test.  I was truly an extrovert, because I wasn’t a good actor.  It was interesting to me that contrary to most popular beliefs, actors are introverted.

I was talking with my partner last weekend after I did the announcements at church.  I stumbled a bit in the earlier morning service and found the crowded 11:00 am service much easier.  She figured it was practice effects, and I told her that while that was true, much of it was crowd size.  Larger group, easier for me to feel less pressure and intimacy.

So, that’s it.  I was terrified of deep intimacy and being isolated.  I moved to a minuscule town in the midwest for my first grad degree and if I didn’t teach that day and participate in class, I heard no human voice, as those were the days of calling cards and land lines for long distance.  I got much better at being alone, and then I got really good at being alone when I booted out my ex-husband, had my coming out affair, and many friends stopped interacting with me.  These days, I talk to a new person if I have to, but mostly I work.  On nights like last night, I miss the lanky swell of my partner’s body in our bed.  I can connect deeply, openly, and honestly with her.  But, that’s about all that I want, because I don’t want an entourage, but seek things that help my family be solid and happy.

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Gratitude

I feel like I want to write today about things that I’m thankful for because I have been riding this crest of being happy and doing my own thing for some time, but now I’m going to get married next fall.  That is something to be truly grateful for being able to do.

We had Thanksgiving with my parents and my son only at our house last Sunday.  With as busy as I am at work, weeks just fly by, which makes it really hard given that I’m in school, but I can get all my paperwork done because I finally have a deadline.  We had an easy Thanksgiving for the most part, with my father only acting pissy once, because I had him carve while I got Brussels Sprouts, heirloom (purple) sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, and stuffing out.  I think that he wanted just to show up.  Oh well.  It was really easy though, and that is just like our (my partner and I) relationship.

My cousin hosted Thanksgiving the weekend before with her kids, her boyfriend’s two, and my son had an incredible time.  I loved the way that my partner just fit into my family and how much they love her.  The long weekend was just a bit too much running around and social for me, but I got through it.

I spent the actual Thanksgiving Day with her family and their friends, and I think that it went well.  I get the impression that her uncle and some of the other family members are seeing if I’m going to stick around.  Well, first of all, I’m tenacious and hard working, and second of all, I was incredibly attracted to her from the minute that I met her, and it just got worse and worse throughout the spring.  I simply love the guy who married her first cousin, and I’d like to do some cycling with him.  I don’t fall off anymore and understand my gears 🙂  Maybe if I hang out with him at intervals, her family will see that I’m here to stay and waited for my chance with her.  I’m so glad we waited to voice it when she was single though, as it is not sullied by anything and is pure.