Sunday, May 30, 2010

an Outlet (so to speak)

I was moving some boxes to the new house yesterday with the kids. Nothing big. I was very tired and I don't have much packed yet. I don't have any trucks yet..

The house is a 4-ish bedroom. The ish is a long story I don't feel like typing out. Well, the kids keep arguing over who gets which room.

When it hit me.

I looked at which room is left for me... that one will never fucking work!! There's like ONE very poorly placed electrical outlet. Uhm... okay.

I went across the hall to the other bedroom... electrical outlets GALORE and... a phone jack.

I'm taking that room.

WTF does that even mean?

I realized last night, through an email exchange with a woman that I've been in contact with for about a month now, that I may never be able to open my heart again.  

Let's call her S.  I have started to "like" S more and more... our emails have gotten more personal than just the casual and humorous exchanges we had began our relationship with.  We have started to really share some things from our past... and some important dreams and goals for our future.  I can feel my heart start wanting to open up to her, but still resisting.  It remembers the pain.  And frankly I don't trust myself yet.  

At first S's emails made me laugh so hard!  She seemed to completely "get" my sense of humor.  Now, as I'm opening up a little more about my job, my passions, and my... kids even... she seems to even "get" that too.  Except... I don't get her.  She wrote this in an email very early this morning:  "My last gf broke up with me because I don't want kids and she wanted to keep that door open for herself.  I am open to children, just not family planning."  WTF does that mean?  Then she goes on to explain that the woman had 2 kids... " ... she and I should have ended the relationship sooner but I fell totally in love with her kids.  I loved being a mom more than she did.  I suppose I am telling you this because I want you to know that I am not scared of the kid thing."

I'm confused.  My heart is locking itself back up.  I cannot get even remotely involved with anyone ever again that doesn't see themselves as being a part of my life in its entirety.  Now, that being said... when I am ready to really DATE a woman, do I think my kids will be ready to accept her into their lives?  No... that's not what I'm saying.  That will be much later.  But I don't even want to go down that road with someone  if we both aren't headed to the same place.

Is that fair of me?  Or ... not...?

I just cannot handle another heartache.

And I doubt anyone will be willing to take on five kids... so I've already resigned myself to the fact that I may just be alone for a long time.  At least until the kids are adults.  (Please see next blog post regarding electrical outlets.)

Tomorrow I leave for my little mini vacation to see/meet T (previously blogged about as New Friend).  When I said in previous post that there had been some mild flirting... uhm... nothing compared to what S has had to say...!!  Goodness!!  However, T seems very sweet and makes me smile often.  I am very excited to see her and meet her finally. 

When I think about someone in my life accepting me and my children, I don't see T though.  And that's okay.  I do see her as being a very good friend for a very long time... I hope that's what she sees too.

This is way harder than I thought it was going to be.  Seriously... what the fuck.  I just wanted to have a little fun. 

Friday, May 28, 2010

The "Next-Day-Phone-Call" -or text- after The First Date

I woke up this afternoon to an anonymous text from Motherless asking, "When are you moving?"  At first I was creeped out a little because I didn't recognize the number.  I asked the texter to identify themselves and the response I got was "It's your son."  Seriously?  Dude.  He is five.  He can't spell or use punctuation yet.

I got it out of the texter that it was.... yeah... you guessed it.... Motherless!  She was texting me again.  This is huge in the world of a 13 year old, I believe.  Especially since March 14, 2010 was the last text I received from her.  (Yes I know the exact date.  I have all of her texts saved still.  No judging..... )  Since that time in March, when we had our big "falling out" or whatever, she got a new cell number, and neither her nor her father made me privy of it.

So, second awesome outcome of this:  I have her cell phone number now.  YAY.  I am a ginormous geek.

This truly does feel like I am dating her.  It's like butterflies in my tummy and all that shit.

I don't know what's going on.  I'm trying to not get my hopes up.  I'm trying not to expect too much.

First Dates

Last evening after I wrote in my blog I called the children again and asked my second oldest, M, if she wanted to come to the new house with me to see it and pick out bedrooms and such.

When I got there to pick her up, of course L wanted to come.  She can't "miss out" on a thing.  Then when The Boy heard that his sisters were going somewhere he just HAD to come.  (The van was really filling up.)  So I decided to be brave and ask Motherless if she wanted to come too.  She said "Maybe."  OMG... she spoke to me.  And it wasn't nastiness.  She said, "Ask dad."  Of course he said yes.

She just kept bouncing her basket ball.  Over and over.  And shooting.  Bounce.  Shoot.  Bounce.  Shoot.  I would catch her shot and bounce it back to her.  We did this wordless, silent, weird "dance" for what felt like EVER... 4 minutes tops... and then I said, "Are you coming?"  She said, "no."

Ugh.  I decided to beg.

She said fine.


I felt like I was on a "first date."  I was all nervous about saying the wrong thing.  I didn't want to look at her too much.  I was worried I smelled bad.  I was worried I had bad breath.  I wished I had more money so I could take her out for ice cream.  I ... I ... I...

She looked around the house silently.  Then the other kids started arguing over who was going to have which room.  I asked Motherless if she wanted to have a room at my new house.  She shook her head no.  I fought back tears. 

Never ask a question you don't want to hear the answer to.  NEVER.

So I said, "Well, I still have your bed.  I am going to put it in M's room.  Just in case..." 

Basically she didn't look at me or speak to me the entire time.  But she came to my new house. 

So, just like ending an awkward first date, I wanted to kiss her goodbye... but chickened out.

Thursday, May 27, 2010


I am a thief.

My oldest daughter, the one that is now motherless, has a Facebook profile.  Of course I am not on her friend's list, nor do I care to be actually.  I don't think that parents and children should "go there"... anyway... I digress...

I am a thief.

I search for her profile and I look to see if she's added new photos of herself.  She has her privacy settings super stellar, but she changes her profile picture often.  I "save" her picture to my desktop whenever I can.  Just to look at her.

I tried again to talk to her today.  I was on the phone with L and I asked her to put Motherless on.  Of course Motherless refused in a nasty way.  So I decided to ask for The Boy while choking back tears.  While talking to my son I could hear L and Motherless **laughing** at me.

I have been stolen.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

I'd like to know someone. . .


I’d Like To Know

I’d like to know someone
Who’s known months without sun
I’d like to know someone
Who’s learned how to sleep
When the night’s still bright
I’d like to know someone
Who comes from the mountains
Like a wall against my waves
I’d like to know someone
Who knows the quiet time
After the song is sung
Cause I’m quick to love
Quicker to tire
I’m looking for a slower burn
A better kind of fire
I’d like to know someone
With music in their lungs
I’d like to know someone
Who lets stuff off the hook
Throw back the little ones
And when you’re not afraid to stay
I won’t be afraid of morning
And when you’re not afraid to say
I’ll never be afraid, to listen
I’d like to know someone
Who knows I came undone once
I’d like to know someone
Who knows deep where they come from

Friday, May 21, 2010


Today I wrote to an old friend whom I still love quite dearly.  

Lately it seems as though I've been editing most of my emotions out of my correspondence with her.  I mean ... I have been sharing with her... but it definitely feels like a "watered down" version.  I think this is because I was afraid that if she saw the real intensity of my emotions, she might be afraid.  Or perhaps I thought that it wouldn't be "fair" to her... to just lay all of those emotions out to her after having NOT communicated for so many months.

I cannot take it anymore.  I cannot take the editing.

This morning, without shame, I've been passing emails in the hall, and wearing my heart on my sleeve.  Maybe even some of the things I've told her haven't even been nice things for her to hear.  I don't really give a fuck.  That's where I am at this morning.  I am just feeling so hurt, and I'm pouting, and I KNOW that I'm being juvenile. 

I know that we are friends though, before we were lovers.  And that has to count for something.  Right?

Thursday, May 20, 2010

A Different Kind of Trip

Memorial Day this year will be a little different.  Normally I am sleeping from working or sleeping because I have to go to work.  Not this year.  I am off the day before, the day of, and the day after.  

It's not the only reason it will be different... New Friend wants me to come visit her.  And I am.  It's a bit of a drive.  Nothing I consider too far really, because I enjoy going to new places and seeing new sights.  I don't particularly like driving though.  I find it boring.  My friend, Kevin, is going to make me some CDs I believe to help get me through.  He's super cool.  In fact, he is actually helping me recreate the soundtrack of my life right now.

New Friend offered to get me a hotel room so I don't have to drive home that night.  I was planning on that route anyway, and her offer to do it for me took me back.  I am not used to someone taking the initiative on such matters!  Then, get this... New Friend spends the evening picking out a place for me.  How special.  I know I'm being totally stupid.

Over the past few days, New Friend has mentioned to me that she's excited about my upcoming trip and has picked out things to show me and things for us to do.  Uhm, hello.  Again.  Not really used to someone that can actually make a decision here.  Nothing is worse than the, "I don't care; whatever you want to do..." game.

Now, I cannot tell if I'm more excited that this girl is thinking about my trip and planning activities without my constant approval, or if I'm excited because I have no fucking clue what to expect.  I've never been to this city, I've never met her, and ... hmmm... there's been some flirting.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Press 0 to speak to a sane person.

A day that just kept getting better:  I dropped and then retrieved my iPhone from the TOILET, Click and I tried to look up how to resuscitate it.  Apparently other iPhone users have had near-drowning experiences.  I am not comforted.  I feel sick.  I never realized how fucking connected I am until I have to disconnect.  That bothers me.  Suddenly it was like I didn't know how to live.  All joking aside... what is wrong with me?  I need to be able to check my email constantly?  Really?  Good god.  It's like I can't make it through an afternoon without Twitter tweets and Facebook updates getting pushed right to me through the phone.  WTF IS WRONG WITH ME???  In a simple way, I've let this piece of machinery intrude upon my life in the most intimate way.  I type this because I also thought of my connection to "Her"... my New Friend.  I thought about how much I enjoy being able to look at my phone and see Her name, knowing that She's thought about me at the same time I've thought about Her...


I'm so annoyed with it all. 


I went to pick up my kids from school and while I was waiting for the bus, I wanted to know what time it was.  The clock on my CD player in the van needs to be reset... so I reached for my phone.  It wasn't there.  I cannot even fucking tell time without my damn phone?  Really?  Lame.  So I'm sitting there waiting and waiting and waiting... and I realized... I am never alone with myself anymore.  There's a constant influx of tweets, texts, emails, etc., etc., etc., and to just SIT there and WAIT felt so foreign.  I nearly had a panic attack.  I am not exaggerating. 

I'm feeling a bit pathetic tonight, that I've let something like this start to run my life.

Or not.  Maybe it isn't running my life.  I don't know.

So things get worse, I pick up the kids and M and  L (unknowingly) hurt my feelings very badly.  I tried not to, but I cried in front of them on the way home.  


Tonight is "pick up" night and my oldest daughter was with my ex when he came to pick up my kids.  She is a photographer, and I get magazines sent here for her.  So I go to give them to her, in her dad's truck... because you know, she won't come in, and she ignores me.  Won't look at me.  Won't talk to me.  Won't acknowledge any part of me.

Now, I realize I am the adult here.  I understand where her pain is coming from, I really do!  But dammit it hurts so much for me too.  I feel so rejected and to be rejected by one's own offspring feels like the ultimate.  For so long now I've wondered and worried about her feeling rejected by me.  DAMMIT.  Who the fuck cares how I feel?  I know I am acting childish.  I'm just hurt.

It feels like I'm in a vacuum.  It hurts so bad I can't breath except for shallow tiny gasps.  It hurts so bad I can barely see past my tears.  It hurts so bad I can't hear anything except for the beating of my own heart inside my head.  My senses are making it so that I'd rather be rendered senseless. 


I talk to "Her" tonight and I want to thank her for caring.  In a gentle, quiet way she is responsive to my emotional needs.  

I needed that tonight.  I always take care of everyone else.  If it's not their physical needs (like with my children or patients), it is their emotional needs.  It's the way it's always been for me.  I've been the one my friends have come to for emotional nurturing.  It's okay, I think I gain from it too.  But... but... tonight (or rather lately) I've been feeling so uncared for.  Not uncared ABOUT, but uncared FOR.  I can only give others what I have to give, and I haven't gotten much lately.  I've never noticed myself complaining about it before, and I think it's because I've never in my life been this self aware. 

I'll get back to myself.  I am used to taking care of myself and a million other things and people.  It's what I do, what I've done, and really... honestly... truly... it's what I feel most comfortable with.  I think.  Is it?  Maybe it's just what I've known, but not really what is best for me.  Maybe.

New Friend calls me "lady" and often writes it or texts it.  Previously I was called "baby" and it made my skin crawl.  Perhaps I got used to it, and perhaps I thought it meant the Ex Girl wanted to "take care" of me.  But when I think about it with real honesty in my heart, I never really liked it.
I'm not Her baby.  I'm not Her anything.  It's the little things like that, that make me think about Her with curious wonder... and smile.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


Sometimes I feel like I am choking on my own emotions... and to find the words to express those feelings, makes my throat feel even tighter.  It's a conundrum, though, because I know that without finding the words... I will become lost in my silence.

Introspective people are sometimes sad people.  That's what she told me today.  I agree.  I am introspective.  I am sometimes sad.  Am I sad because I am introspective or am I introspective because I am sad?  Maybe neither.  Maybe both.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010


The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.

~ Joseph Campbell

Monday, May 10, 2010

Remember when we didn't care?

Recently I was with my very best friend and her daughter.  We were watching her little angel skip, hop, and jump through a splash pad in the middle of a shopping center.   It was in the middle of the morning, in the middle of the week.  Her daughter didn't care that her clothes were getting wet.  She didn't care that people might look at her funny.  She didn't care that she might look strange moving in such contortions.  No... all that the little girl cared about was the swift freedom that came from running wild and letting the wind blow through her hair.  She was focused on skipping across the sprinklers trying to beat the timing as to not get sprayed too much.  However, there was a secret delight heard in her squeals when she was a little too slow and the sprays caught up to her.

I asked my friend J, "Do you remember that?  Do you remember running free like that not caring about anything in the world?"  I don't think I have ever NOT CARED about anything and just let myself run free.  How sad is that?  Even as far back as I can remember, I can remember worrying.  Little girls should not worry.

So I got up and splashed.  I forced myself to be free from worry for just that moment.
The whole thing reminded me of this passage in this book I am reading "Stone Butch Blues" by Leslie Feinberg.

"God," she said, "by the time we're old enough to have sex, we're already too ashamed to be touched.  Ain't that a crime?" (p73)

Friday, May 7, 2010


I have always loved this photo of Marilyn Monroe.  She looks strong but yet still beautiful and gentle.

This is what I find with women... not just lovers, but my friends as well.  Women know what a "gentle strength" means.  With lovers it has meant that they have helped me to stay present in the moment... in a gentle way, and they knew what amount of strength was necessary to achieve this, gently.  With my friends, it has built us up a level of trust that I am very proud of today.  I wasn't so proud in the past.

But I've learned and I am growing and like my friends J and W told me last week, some amount of pain will come from that, like growing pains. 

My friends' gentle strength with me has helped me to surrender and begin to live my truth in the most authentic way I've ever lived. 

When I think of our Dear Marilyn... I wonder, did she feel as if she were living her truth?  Did she feel celebrated as her most authentic self?  I wonder. 

Tonight I feel stronger because I know that I am. 

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

What are you reading?

I cannot put down the book Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg.  It's heart wrenching to say the least and it makes me actually feel a little PROUD of where we are as far as our LGBTQ rights.  I know ... did you really ever think I would say that?  My friends only know me to complain.  After reading about the butches and femmes and queens and he-she's and whatever the fuck you want to call yourself... that came before me... after reading about what it was like for THEM, I cannot complain.  I feel ridiculous for my rants.

What Jess Goldberg endured as a young girl and then young woman I related to on so many levels.  I am not even half way through the book.  Already, my face has been wet with tears, AND I have laughed out loud in public while reading too.

So... tell me... what are you reading?

Monday, May 3, 2010

A Pony Ride (aka something gay that totally made Elle smile)

I found these two the other night and I was addicted to them from the first click! Julie and Brandy in Your Box Office.

Here's what I've figured out, from the few "episodes" I was able to watch on YouTube last night:

Brandy is the "hot - every man's dream lesbian", Julie is a self identified "man-hater" (see their PSA on No Homo Jokes), and Box Office is a metaphor for vagina.  These two lesbians go to movies, then make reviews of the movies in the form of YouTube videos.  They use the rating of 1, 2, 3, or 4 fingers "in the Box Office" and have even created another rating of a "fist in the Box Office."  It's funnier when they explain it.  Trust me.

What I haven't been able to decipher is if they are a "couple" or not. 

I don't care.

Here is the video I wanted to share with you all.  I watched this movie, so it was a review I could actually relate with.  And, not to spoil anything... but I totally agree with their rating.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Do I Love Myself?

Frozen.  Speechless.  Blank stare.  Tears sting my eyes.

My gut reaction is to respond, no.  I think because for so long I really didn't love myself.  I never felt that I was worthy of love from others and therefore not worthy of self love.  That was a lifetime ago.  I don't feel that I need love from others to feel self love.  But.... can I sit here, look in the rmirror, and say, I love you?  I'm going to try later.  I have never tried before.

When I look at my actions over the past year I can see that many of them, not all, but many of them reflect a level of self love.  If I hadn't been in the place where I had a certain amount of that, I couldn't have made certain steps and choices that I have.

I should remind myself of this more often.

Instead, I seem drawn to focusing on my faults and mistakes that I have made and/or continued to make.  It has held me in place, bound me tightly, and I need to break free from the guilt and shame or I think I may continue to repeat, or at the very least, not move forward.

In loving myself, I forgive myself.  In loving myself, I have faith in myself.  In loving myself, I trust myself.

Forgiveness.  Faith.  Trust.

Three elements that I am making a commitment today, to nurture, as I nurture myself.  Because until I can find those things in myself, no one else will.... and I won't find it in anyone else.

I love myself enough to make that commitment.