O! M! G!

So, I was on Twitter this morning, and I suddenly had this FEAR that I had missed my blogging anniversary.  I knew I had started in mid-February last year, and I thought it was around the 12th.

Well, it was.  AROUND the 12th.  Fortunately, it was the 15th. [Here is my opening post... ]

So today, then, is the last day of the first year of my blog.  The first of perhaps MANY years, I can hope...

But WOW! What an amazing first year!  What an incredible, incredible first year! 

I don't even know where to begin in my recap...

But one of the reasons for this blog was because I'm real cheap, and this was free therapy. So thanks, guys! ;)

No, but seriously, at the time I started this blog, I was deep in grief over two lost relationships, and I was feeling incredibly lonely in a small town where I was trying to dig roots, in a job that ultimately I felt both overwhelmed and bored with.  I had lost my best friend, and was feeling a deep need to find someone to tell all the random thoughts and silly things (and perhaps profound?) that were screaming through my head.

So, I thought the whole world was a suitable audience to share everything with...

But I had no readers except my good friend Robin Sparkles (thank you, Robin!) and apparently I wasn't the type who liked to talk just to hear my own voice.  Apparently, I'm so selfish and self-centered I actually want OTHERS to hear me too....

And I had decided to give it a whirl because I enjoyed hearing The Bloggess' voice and thought I can do that!  So after twenty-five blog posts, and hoping that meant I was going to stick with this, I called her out. At the time, on her blog, there was an incident that she has asked us to no longer name with an actor whose first memorable role was as the second Joey in One Life To Live, and I encouraged her to share a picture with me as she might have wanted one who shall not be named to send a picture to her of him. 

So, to get her attention, I did an evil thing.  Something that from high above in my lofty cloud I thought was much too far beneath me.  Something I never thought I would do.

That's right.  I joined Twitter.

WOW! 

And The Bloggess - bless her heart - was my VERY FIRST FOLLOWER!!!

At some point along the way, I found Kit.  And I believe I found her through Jenny.  And I found her posts - particularly her posts about sex - to be really funny and amusing.  I liked her voice too.  And I'd like to say she was my second follower.. but I'm not sure... Either way, with #wineparty, she opened up a whole new world to me.

A world of 30-40-something Mommy bloggers.  (Primarily)

You guys are great.  Considering I am most definitely NOT a Mommy... 

And I have a Sci-Fi name that should turn you off. And it took some of you awhile to realize I wasn't a guy hitting on and flirting with women, but, um, a dyke.  But you enjoyed it and flirted back.

And one particular chickie - who played a little hard to get at first - flirted back and foolishly fell in love with me.  ;)

WOW!

And slowly, but surely, I've built up a following.  I have a steady readership of about 20 readers... ;)  and I have had over twelve thousand hits.  I have a strong Balkan following.

The CANADIANS have been quite impressive fans.  They are so polite.  They'll apologize when YOU fart.  I love the Canadians... And so... today is as good a day as any to make the official announcement that, well, I'm moving to Canada.

'Cuz, as I've already mentioned, there's this particular chickie.. and well.. she's a CANADIAN chick.. go figure... We're not entirely sure she likes me and that she isn't just being polite to me, "Oh sure..." but we're gonna run with it anyway.  ;)

(Actually, no, we're QUITE sure she likes me, very much... and if I left that sentence alone, particularly after her sweet Valentine's eve series of love notes, I'd be in trouble... and that's no way to start a life together... )

Goodbye small town.  Goodbye single.  Goodbye soccer coach.  Goodbye America.  Goodbye job.  Goodbye church...

Woah.. what's going to be left of me when I go?

All the essential parts of me will still be here. 

I have enjoyed very much living in a small town, but I didn't particularly choose this place.  They have been good to me.  Very good to me! I have really enjoyed coaching soccer, but I have no inherent skills or even love for the sport.  I enjoyed the girls - they were great!  Can't say I enjoyed being single, but I can say that I got out of it what I needed, and I have most definitely let go of my past relationships and am ready for this new one I'm already in (so it's, um, a good thing, eh?)  America? Well... you're hard to ignore.  And I'll be living in a border town (okay, border megaopolis), so I have a feeling I won't miss you too much.  Job? Pfft... well... it has always been a gap-filler.  And it and the church, and the soccer have all sort of helped me get a firmer understanding of what I enjoy doing, and in a larger city, I will have a better opportunity to find something that fits those things. 

What a year!  I mean, really, what a year!  One thing which has NOT changed, though, over this past year.  And that is being and knowing that I am very, very blessed. 

Who knows what themes will emerge with this blog in the next year?  Change will probably be one of them.  I'm going to try and stuff my life into five duffel bags and stuff them and my bike into my car and start over.  I've always always always wanted to have such little stuff in my life that I could stuff it all in a car and go.  I have a couple of weeks to pare things down to see if I can do it.  If I manage it, that's another WOW!  I am looking forward to trying.

Alright - a few other topics are creeping into my head to write about, but it is clear to me that they are separate posts. 

But I wanted to say WOW! and THANK YOU! for an INCREDIBLE year.  INCREDIBLE! 

Who knew when I started this that this is where it would lead?  But I am so grateful it has! 

I am blessed. 

WANTED: Best Friend

Eleven months ago, almost to the day (it was the day AFTER Christmas, rather than the day before), my best friend decided and announced to me that she didn't want to be my friend anymore. A misguided Christmas present, apparently, can do that to a relationship, although the story is a little bit more complicated than that.

We've talked three times since then: we had a brief quarter where she actually tried to call me once a month.   I'm not quite sure what I might have done to have ended those, other than miss her call that last time she tried.  That was June.

She's been working for quite some time on her next athletic achievement - try-outs for a local sports team.  Something that has been very important to her for awhile now, and taken significant importance after an unfortunate injury took away her ability to do her favorite sport as well as she used to.  In her life, this is a significant event.  Try-outs happen on a grand scale once a year - in November, but in the spring, sometimes, if there are a few openings, they will also have try-outs to fill a few spots.

It was in our talk in March or April when the last try-outs happened, and I asked her, even if she communicated nothing else to me ever again, to let me know if she made it.  She promised me, then, that she would make sure I would know when it happened.  And we had talked after those try-outs where she confirmed she hadn't.

So try-outs happened again.  And I knew they were vaguely taking place about now, so I sent her a "good luck" text nearly three weeks ago. 

Ten days ago she found out she got on.

Today, I found out.  And not from her.

I want to share her good news - I want to shout to people, "Hey, my best friend..."  and it is then that I realize given that she didn't share this great news in her life (equivalent, people, for her to having a baby - that kinda exciting big life event) with me, I probably should stop thinking about and referring to her as my best friend.  I am no longer one of the people she shares these things with.  Her 342 and growing Facebook friends and strangers, yes.  Me, no. 

When we had those three brief phone conversations, she also promised me we'd be friends again someday.  Given that she didn't keep the promise of telling me when she made the team, I guess I shouldn't be holding my breath....

Applications are now being accepted...

People

There are moments in life when you want to crawl into a hole and just get away from all people.  Right? Tell me, you've had those moments, too?

Except the pathetic irony is that even when you crawl into that hole ostensibly to get away from everyone, because everyone seems to suck, you really want that special someone to notice you've crawled into a hole and to come and find you.

Yeah.. Humans are inconsistent creatures...

I'd crawl into the hole.. but there isn't anyone special that would come looking for me... Nope.  The one who would has decided she doesn't want to be that special someone.  And it's been three months since she has come looking for me...  (Oh, woe is me... Pity party of one? Your usual table is ready...)

So, I find out this news today.  And the first live person I try to tell - the first friend I run into - doesn't even realize what I'm trying to tell her.  I have to try and tell her about four different times in four different sightings before she pays enough attention to me to realize what I'm saying.  And then what does she do? She changes the subject...

As Bartles & James would say, "Thank you.  Thank you for your support."

Another friend was less supportive last week, and after I got a little irrationally upset, hasn't really spoken to me since.  And there's a part of me that prefers that because even though I was irrational, I'm still not happy about her behavior and her absence.  Even though it likely has nothing to do with me. 

Another friend has recently declared about another friend of mine that she not only doesn't like the sin, she doesn't like the sinner.  Knowing that I have committed the same "sin" and yet, blindly, she doesn't hate me?  But she should if she were consistent, so I don't really feel like spending time around her...

I got bitched at by a parent the other night at soccer - the wife of a member of the Board.  She was upset because apparently my cohort telling her in person about the fundraiser money deadline was not sufficient, and she was angry because *I* didn't call her to tell her money was due.  Your husband is on the Board?  The calendar has been posted since last November?  Um, the coach called everyone to tell them when it was due? We sent home flyers? And *I'm* the one responsible for you not knowing the money was due?

F-you.

And frankly, at the moment, that is what I feel like saying to most people.  All while hoping they come looking for me under the rock I plan on hiding under. 

Humans are inconsistent crazy creatures.  And I am most certainly one of 'em...

The next post...

.. so after I wrote the short post on Answers, I started another post called "I'm a bitch".  It is true.  Sometimes I can be...

It was a post, apparently, though in gestation, not quite ready yet to be born.

I'm not sure it is, yet, but I'll let my fingers give it a try, and if you're reading this, well, then, I guess I thought it was "good enough".  Hee hee...

Ever have a disagreement or a grumble with someone close to you - in this case, more generally, a friend - and just want to say "Fuck 'em... I'm done"?  Or more accurately and comprehensively, "I'm done with people..."?

Yeah. That.

Or, more fun, and probably more accurate, a series of grumbles with a series of people...

... and, that, unfortunately, is when you have to look in the mirror and ask / wonder if it is yourself.  If you are, indeed, a bitch. 

But let's face it.  None of us is perfect. We all have our bitchy moments.  And ideally, in our non-bitchy moments, we have shown something to others to suggest that our value is worth overlooking those moments of bitchiness.

There is a fine line between expecting everyone to accept you the way you are, and love you the way you are without having to change and bend yourself into being a pretzel to be accepted and loved, and then using that "People should love me the way I am" as a hammer or a bludgeon to entitle you to act like a bitch. 

There was someone I've met in the last six months - virtually - who very much had a huge chip on her shoulder, and basically felt that if someone else was worthy, they'd love them just the way that they were.  On the very first day she and I interacted, though, she went postal on me.  Then, later, apologized if she offended, and gosh, gees, she was getting her period, and by the way, why are you so sensitive?

I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and didn't block her after that, although I was tempted and every warning in me said to run.  And sure enough, it happened again.  I wasn't as invested, and it didn't take me by surprise, and I was better able to stand my own ground and call her on her behavior.  "Gees, why are you so sensitive?" and "You attacked me".  Um, no, I merely disagreed with what you said.  I can do that, ideally, and you should be strong enough? secure enough? to understand that simply because I don't agree with everything you believe doesn't mean I am attacking you....

She was tiring, after a while... (Heck, who am I kidding? She was tiring immediately), and eventually, I moved on and blocked her. 

Next.

It is Twitter, after all.  There are definitely plenty of fish in the sea. 

This was several months ago, and it is easier and safer to talk about her and her behavior to illustrate these general principles than to look inward to see if I, now, am being the bitch.

And I probably am.  Now, before you get all supportive and wonderful and tell me how sweet I am below (which, well, go ahead, and do... I won't mind, I guess! ;) ).. you don't have to live with me day-to-day.  You don't have to deal with my irrational moments, which feel pretty damn rational to me, damnit.  You may see me stick my head in the sand, but as virtual strangers / friends you can just keep on walking and ignore me.  Those whom I have lured into the trap of friendship are not as easily able to ignore me. 

'Cuz I can whine. 

I can be grumpy.

I can be childish.

I can throw a damn good tantrum. 

I can get snippish, snappish, snarky, and sarcastic. 

I can be mean.

And, when I step back, I know that some of this behavior is no different than when done by a child.  I am seeking attention by any means necessary, and since the good attention may not seem to be flowing at the moment, I guess I seek bad attention, too. 

Great. 

No, I don't take crayons to walls.  I haven't done that since I was ten.  Besides, none of you have to live within my walls, anyway, so none of you would notice, and it wouldn't get any of that attention. 

But I do crave attention.  Oh, so much.

Okay.  So that isn't news.  And I'm not alone.  And wait, you want attention, too?

Oh, us humans. We can be so much fun, can't we?

All I want is for you to love me, notice me, care for me, nurture me... be with me... If you must, you can even call me George..

Is that so much to ask?

Yeah, that's what I was afraid of....

... apparently, that might be why I can be a bitch. 

P.S.  If you're here from the Bloggess, check out my post Welcome Lawsbians to learn a little about my tenuous connection to Jenny! ;)

24 hours...

We've all seen the show (even if we haven't watched it) 24 where you can see how the world can be saved over and over again in just 24 hours.  A lot can happen in 24 hours.

And about 24 hours after I wrote that last post, a lot had happened.

First, the friend who I was afraid would gloat that she was right, most definitely did. 

Second - and maybe this wasn't immediately within the first 24 hours - the Love Boat episodes that I'd been watching on You Tube got pulled for copyright infringement.

Third, I forgot to clean my sink, already. 

But fourth, and I'm afraid to write too much at this point, a really promising possible job opportunity may have arisen at the place where I have been contracting. 

It is too soon to write too much.  At this point, it is an "internal" posting (that they let me respond to anyway) and folks have until this upcoming Thursday to respond.  But given that the owner of the company has expressed - in the past - an interest in hiring me, even though we couldn't figure out where - I am hopeful that this may end up being it...

Knock on wood.  Keep fingers crossed.  And we'll hope that this is what is best for me in this new and next chapter of my life.  If I don't get it, don't worry. I've perfected "Sour Grapes" mentality to understand that maybe it wasn't what was for the best for me. 

Either way.... I may not turn into a big blob of blubber after all.  Unfortunately, my sink may not get clean, either! ;)

A Plan?

A friend of mine asked me yesterday if I had a "plan" set for what I am going to do with myself after the contract ends.  A plan? I facetiously asked...? What? Doesn't she read this blog religiously?  I'm going to make sure my sink is clean before I go to bed at night.  Other than that, what kind of plan do I need?

Later, by Twitter, I mentioned how I felt like I was sitting around waiting for something great to happen.  And she chimed in how I shouldn't wait, I needed to out there and make it happen.  To which I gave a harvesting analogy and insisted I had planted seeds.  She believed me.

And I have... Don't get me wrong.

But she is poking at the bear issues I have concerns about myself.  Gently - or perhaps not so gently - making sure I won't devolve into a glob of blubber when the contract ends.  I think she's afraid I will sit at home all day in my bed watching re-runs of Love Boat that I recently discovered on You Tube (that song is IMPOSSIBLE to get out of your head, so I don't recommend it... But, oh, that Doc, he is so funny (NOT!)).  And her fears aren't entirely unjustified.  Although I'll probably also catch up on some of the bloggers I'm friends with on Twitter and now here.  And maybe find creative ways to enhance and improve my blog.  And maybe I'll start a doll head collection.  Okay, NOT to the last one.

And I won't be starting a Vision Board or likely a Pinterest account either, although I'm a little wary to say the last one because that pretty much is what I said about Twitter all this time, and we see what happened THERE!

But she's right.  I know she's right.  (Is there a way to block one single person from reading a single post?  I mean I don't need her to spend the rest of today, this week, lording it over me that I said that she was right, do I? No... I mean, she'd favorite the shit out of this post, and return to it every day just to see that I said she was right... Wait... that might help my statistics, though.... If you found this post from the right hand side, well.... you'll know that I already regret it! Kidding!)

I do need a plan to make sure I don't just burrow deeply into my bed and never emerge except for soccer and to get the church bulletin done.  Particularly because there's only another month to soccer, so that won't last too long. 

Do I have one? No.  Not entirely.  Not much at all.  Except a recognition that I want there to be some structure to my days.  Something in particular I accomplish each day.  Incremental work on other things.  I don't want to simply burrow into my bed (although it is nice and comfortable) and get lost.  That's the start of a plan, right?

In the meantime, though, it's early-ish in the morning and I need to hit the shower and get this project done first.  Right now, THAT's my plan.  Once that's done, I can concentrate on the other.  For now, that's my plan.  Okay?  Okay.

Holes

Some times people leave your life and they leave a hole where they used to be.  In your life. In your heart.  Even in your day, sometimes, if they were the type to interact with you daily. 

And you try to fill the hole that they left with other things, other people, other distractions.  Because the reality is that in life people come and go, and mostly, we are helpless to stop them.  (Resistance is futile, damnit!)  We hope that they'll stay awhile, enjoy our company, and never want to go, but usually there comes a time and they must be on their way.

One of my friends reminded me of this just over three years ago.  She sent me this e-mail about how people are in your life for a moment, a season, or a life-time.  That sometimes people are just there for a reason for that moment, and when that moment or that season is passed, so does the friendship or relationship.  At the time she sent it was a particularly difficult morning for me as I was beginning to recognize and accept that my relationship with my wife - something that was supposed to be forever - was over.   I wasn't ready to accept those words of wisdom, that encouraged letting people go when it was time.  I remember screaming loudly in my (fortunately private) office that morning when I read her e-mail and took that next step in accepting what was.  (I have, since, for the most part accepted that - and that is not what this is about)

I've never been particularly good at letting go.  You can tell because this is a theme that I keep revisiting.  Because I can't let go, easily.

That Dalai Lama says to find those things in your life that bring you happiness and hold onto them.  That's all I've been trying to do... 

In the meantime, I do my best with what I have to try and fill the hole that has been left by someone very dear to me.  Some days - particularly hormonal days like today that make me more emotional - are harder than others.  Sometimes everywhere I look I see where she once was but is not now.   I want to hear her voice, her "luv ya" at the end of a phone call, at the end of an e-mail, or at the end of a text.  Feel her arms holding me tight both in happiness and in sadness.  Her holding my hand in compansionship.  Someone to laugh at my jokes.  To just give me that smile that brightens my day.  And to be someone special to her.  To know that my presence, too, has brightened her day...

There is a hole there where she used to be... and no matter how hard I dig, I just can't seem to fill it...

Being Wise

Being wise isn't all that it's cracked up to be, by the way.  This is a tremendous burden that I carry for you. Yeah, for you.. sure.. that's it. ;) 

So the morning after all my Sticks & Stones follow up epiphanies (I swear, I will get to Pt 4 at some point, soon...), I found myself feeling pissy at a friend.  Over what she did, or did NOT do, as was the case. 

I long ago realized that anger is merely one manner of expression of feeling hurt. 

And so I found myself - annoyingly - sitting there thinking about why I was feeling hurt, and thinking back on all the crap I wrote the night before.  (Because I was annoyed, I grumpily referred to it as "crap").  Why was I feeling pissy?  Why was I hurt?

And the reality is because that friend tapped into my own insecurities.  Damnit.  Insecurity is a bitch, rearing her ugly head.  And when it does, even the simplest of actions by another (or, again, inaction) can stir up a crazy reaction. 

In hindsight, perhaps, this is the perfect segue-way into Pt 4. 

Sometimes we need to recognize that the reason we are hurt is not because the other person was being hurtful.  Or doing anything at all.  But because they tripped lightly (or even headstrongly) into our own insecurities.  Our fears.  Their actions just lightly tapped into suggesting that what we are afraid of is true. 

When we want to believe something, we take any sign as evidence that what we want to believe is true.  Whether we're talking about good things to believe in (farmers, for example, hoping for rain), or apparently, even our insecurities. 

(Related to the last post, frankly, I take all sorts of signs as positive ones that she will come back to me.)

We look for things to believe in, whether they are true or not.

And when we feel insecure.  When we really believe x about us (we're fat, we're unloveable, we're ugly, nobody likes us, we're annoying, we're going to be alone for the rest of our lives...) whatever it is, then we are just as quick as the farmer who sees a cloud to hope it will rain, to believe that that little tiny sign means that x is true.  We are quick to grasp onto it even though it is not a positive thing. 
And in the end, the frustrating thing to admit is NOT that the other person has hurt us, but that we have hurt ourselves. 

We have to stop doing that. 

Okay?  Okay...

Jenga

So, I have come with a new analogy for this balancing act I am doing - or trying to do - with being anonymous here. 

I have decided it is like one big game of Jenga, and each time I tell someone I meet as BorgBlog my own true identity - or facts, even, that are greater and more significant or identifying than I have published here, I pull out a piece like a big Jenga game.  And each time I tell one of my IRL friends that I'm doing an anonymous blog, or even more, show them the blog, I pull out another piece.

Early on, Jenga is easy.  You can pull out lots of pieces without the whole thing crumbling down.  But there comes a time - there always comes a time - when you pull out one piece too many and it all comes crumbling down.  I'm not there yet.  I've only pulled out four or five blocks, but with each block I know I am only getting closer to the point when it all may crumbling down.

The last two Friday nights I have missed #wineparty in favor of #happyhour.  Half price drinks and appetizers at the local Applebees with a friend of mine.

And last night, I pulled a Jenga piece and told her about my blog.  We went back to her place to hang out, and it was fun, I admit, to watch her peruse through the blog on her iPad and watch the expressions on her face, hear her laugh, and share something that has become an important part of my life with her.  Even watching her as she made a sad expression on her face, pushing out her bottom lip, at the end of reading P.S. I love you (one of my favorites - an oldie but goodie).  She had a hard time believing that all those entries on the right there were written by me.  Once she started reading, of course, I'm sure she recognized my voice. 

It was amusing as I'd say, "Read x" next.  Or she'd browse on her own, and I'd say, "No, you have to read this one first..."  She was amazed (I'd like to think) at my knowledge and quick reference to the various entries from my blog.  Although there were still a few occasions when she'd ask me about some obscure reference I have no memory of writing, and I'd have to remind her I'd written 140 entries - I can't remember them all.  (There's that inconsistency thing).

This block will not make the whole anonymity come crumbling down.  She is one who has kept my secrets for years... But one day, I will pull one too many pieces. 

But that's okay.  When I do, I'll just take Jenny The Bloggess' path, and publish my own book!  ;)

The Art of Happiness

In the book "by" the Dalai Lama discussing the art of happiness, one of the keys to happiness is quite simple:  increase the number of things in your life that bring you pleasure, and decrease the things in your life that don't.  (I use "by" because the book is written by this other guy, clearly in his own voice, about his discussions with the Dalai Lama on this topic, so the underlying ideas are his, but ... well, that's more than you need to know)

Yes, I'm simplifying things, and I don't think the Dalai Lama will mind too much because he seems to think that the secrets to life are very simple, so...

This weekend I had a stark reminder of how that works.  One of the group of friends I went to visit, I have known since college.  Let's just say that time has not been her friend.  And I wonder, as I type now, if she was as bitter in college when I first knew her as she is now, and I just didn't notice and it's be amplified by time, or if this is something life has given her in the last 20 or so years.

Because she is not a happy person.  And, as the Dalai Lama instructs, I do feel compassion for her.  I wish I could find some way to uplift her mood or outlook on life, but I do realize, at the end of the day, that's not my job or responsibility.  Or perhaps, sadly, possible. 

There was a group of us all together, so we didn't always spend all our time all together.  And in reflecting about the weekend, I find that I really enjoyed the time this weekend when she wasn't around, and I really didn't enjoy the time this weekend when she was present.  Now, I hate reaching that conclusion.  It saddens me tremendously.  But, I also respect and acknowledge it. 

And I realize that I will limit the responses to invitations from this friend to small bits and not large ones like a full weekend in the future.  I will meet them for dinner, where I can escape after a lovely meal catching up.  But I will not plan on spending a long evening with them where I feel trapped and unable to escape her negativity. 

I'm not sure I can necessarily capture in any greater detail or specificity what it was about her demeanor this weekend that turned me off so much, and I'm not sure for the purpose of this post that I need to.  But I did appreciate the CLEAR illustration of the Dalai Lama's principle of reducing or removing things in your life that do not bring you happiness.

Share your stories about toxic people in your life, and think about who you might need to spend less time around in order to be happy and not dragged down to their level of unhappiness.

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If you like this, stick around and read other entries.  Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end.  Take a moment to send me some feedback.  Thanks for coming.  Please come back soon.

We are family - Borg Family

For those who are unfamiliar with the Borg from Star Trek, this article from Wikipedia is actually quite helpful to bring you up to speed.  I *do* not suggest you need to read the WHOLE article, but the first few paragraphs should give you an overview.

While the naming of this blog was a product of auto-correct, on more than one occasion, the naming of the blog after this “pseudo-race” from Star Trek seems very fitting, nonetheless.

Although I am an active weekly church-goer and participant, I find much value in Eastern philosophies.  Early on,I was amused to make the connection between Taoism and the Borg, when I first read in an elementary book on Taoism (it may even have been the Tao of Pooh)that resistance is futile. 

The Borg operates as a collective. All the smaller units are really just part of a whole and they all have the same data and responses, generally to any situation.  They think alike.  They are alike.

In the last two weeks, I have made more friends in the Twitter-verse (particularly from #wineparty) that I now follow.  It is clear, of course, that it has attracted like-minded people.  But the similarities amongst us are remarkable.  There have been a number of tweets that I have flagged with the thought of using them as “story-starters”or post generators.  Where one of you has expressed something that I strongly agree with, or have expressed at some point (likely recently) myself.  Made an observation that I have made.  Felt the same emotions, reactions, responses as I have felt.  And even some of you have responded to my tweets or my blog with amazement at how much you feel like you could have written that.

A friend of mine was venting to me last night by e-mail about the evil ex of her current flame.  And she ended it with a stern warning of her mood: “please don't give me the compassionspeech”.  I admit – and she may not want to know this – I laughed a little at that. Because in many ways we are more alike than we are different.  And I often preach (see, Dad was right) to stop and put yourself in someone else’s shoes to try and understand why they are reacting or responding the way that they are acting.  If we can step back from ourselves and always being right, we may realize that if we were in the same situation we might be acting the same way – or at least want to. 

When we stop and realize that I am just like you and you are just like me – with all of our wonderful qualities and all of our flaws (yes, you DO have flaws, sorry, honey, you are NOT perfect) – then it is easier to give someone else the break that we feel we deserve.

If we stopped and thought of ourselves as a collective – as one being of sorts – so that hurting someone else was really the same as hurting ourselves, perhaps we might think twice about some of our behavior towards others.  If we realize that the ultimate impact in mistreating others was being mistreated ourselves, then perhaps we might treat each other a little gentler.

One poor tweep today in reaction to another friend on Facebook reposting a Dalai Lama quote blasted her (or him?) about how she didn’t want to read some stupid repost PARTICULARLY when she knew that you didn’t even believe it yourself.  I teased her back, “but I do!” and she felt sheepish and clarified that it wasn’t about me (which I knew).  But I do believe in all that compassion stuff that the Dalai Lama talks about.  It is hard to practice, but I think if we stop and realize that we are all extensions of one another, and treat each other with the same respect as we want, the world – or at least the one that you live in – will begin to look better. 

Resistance, after all, is futile. You will become one with the Borg. You will be assimilated.  We are one.

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Dating rules.. for friends...

I watch too much TV.  We've established that.  So I was watching some sitcom - and I think it's How I Met Your Mother - and the main character - and I believe it was Ted, so we'll go with that - makes a "fatal" mistake with a new person he's dating.

Of course, it's Barney who points this out.  And whether or not, in real life, we should take any advice about life from Barney is, well, questionable.  Because he's a TV character.  And a TV character with questionable morals.  But that's beside the point.

Anyway, Ted makes arrangements to do something well in advance, or is asked to do something well in advanced (like go to a wedding, or some trip or something). And Barney's rule of thumb is that you don't make plans with a girl farther ahead in time than the amount of time you've known her.

If you've been going out a month, you don't make plans for two months in advance.  If you've only been dating for three months, you don't make plans for six months out, etc., etc.  At first that seems silly.  Until you put it into practice.  Or don't as the case may be.

Last night (early this morning) I wrote about a somewhat recent friendship in Hot and Cold.  When we first started hanging out, we got along like gang-busters.  I felt like I had found my new local best friend in her.  I was excited and carefree and forgot this rule of thumb.  After all, it applies to people dating. This is just a friend.  And so, only about a month into really hitting off this friendship, I asked her if she wanted to be my assistant coach for a soccer team I begin coaching at the end of July.  She was excited and interested.  Sure.  Seems all good and great.

Until we hit the cold cycle.  And then I wonder if she'll even be around for coaching the kids, and if I should be scouting for back-ups.  And, I admit, it prevents me from walking away completely.  Because we have this outstanding commitment and I don't want to be pissy towards her and have her be pissy towards me while we're trying to coach.  I don't THINK that will happen, but then, I didn't predict the cold phases, either.  So-o-o... sticky situation (she types while licking the chocolate off her fingers from her leftovers from celebrating National Donut day yesterday.. sorry, got distracted..)


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Twitter-verse

My current best friend (because, honestly, I have about 10 people during my life-time who have held this title, and it's kind of a lifetime achievement award, so my best friend from 1st grade still is referred to as my best friend, but she isn't who I am referring to here and now!) has had the nerve to go and get herself a full time job (bitch!). She lives a bit of a distance from me, so we're electronic best friends at this point (although we have known each other in real life, so it's not AS creepy as it might seem..).  Her more flexible schedule made her a more, um, reliable, um, responsive sounding board. 

But now that she's got this full time job AND (again, the nerve!) a social life! (bitch!) I find myself feeling a little neglected and lonely.

One of the reasons I stated early on for creating this blog was to be a receptacle for all the crazy things that go through my head that I have to share with someone.  Because often sharing with just ONE someone becomes a bit too overwhelming.

I admit, I'm a little scared to look in my sent folder at the twenty e-mails I sent to her yesterday (still unresponded to mostly, because, um, she was working!) because I know at least ONE of them expounded upon the fact that I discovered yesterday that I prefer hair wax to hair gel. 

Really important stuff.  I am sure once she reads that, she'll get back to me right away, right?  No, more likely, she'll probably wonder why I am wasting her limited time with such nonsense.

Particulalry when there's Twitter.

I admit it.  Twitter is growing on me.  I do now check it more than once a day when at first, of course, I could go days or weeks without checking it.  After all, the only reason I got on Twitter was to get Jenny The Bloggess' attention.  And I did.  She's my very first follower.  Now I have 28 followers, and have done 302 tweets.

I know over half of the followers came in the past week, and primarily from #wineparty Kit of Blogging Dangerously's weekly Twitter party. 

Facebook users think of themselves as being more high-brow than twitter.  I know.  I felt that way, myself.  And I'm not sure whether we are or are not, and of course there are PLENTY of cross-overs between FB and Twitter, so it's not like there are two distinct camps.  But there is this notion on FB that if you do start to brain fart dump in it (hair wax versus hair gel) that you'll soon get people hiding your news from their newsfeeds.  Or at least gloss over them, as I do. 

Twitter requires cleverness.  Or recognizing cleverness and retweeting it.  The goal of Twitter is not to be "friends" with everyone you meet or tweet or whatever.  You don't have to worry about someone's standards on Twitter that they'll begin to gloss over you.  They're not looking for baby news, or how your life is going, or what your children did, or how your career is skyrocketing.  They're not looking for lengthy in depth political discussions (although many of us on FB aren't either, but sometimes find ourselves caught in the quicksand morass of them).  Twitter is simple.

I'm falling fot Twitter.  And maybe, instead of innundating my hard working (bitch) best friend's e-mail box with many messages of no value I should just bombard Twitter with the update of the important sutff like hair wax versus gel.  Because I know you're interested. 

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Endings

Letting go is never easy. Figuring out when to and how to make it harder still.

In my head I have a general timeframe of when my marriage went south. No-one will argue that the last year and a half we were together that we were in the process of ending it and letting go, despite our attempts to make it work.

Even when I realized it was over, it still took a full month for me to leave and let go of my expectations of what might or could happen.

Three years later, I am still rebuilding my life.

A colleague of mine has been in one of these phases the last year. His wife announced to the pastor that they were getting divorced. Then, they were going to counseling, and then yesterday he confided to me that they were divorcing again.

I empathized with his unexpressed helplessness. There are kids involved, and he remembers his own experience with his parents' multiple marriages. I sensed his defeat and his uncertainty at what was best and how to move forward.

He doesn't want the divorce. And I have no idea if only for the kids, or also because of remaining affection for his wife. This period takes a lot out of you. I shared with him that I knew it was finally the end when she made one of her many threats to end it all, and I felt relief.

I remember well the night after a day and a half of long emotional terror when she announced by text (she had run away by then - having snuck out of the window from a locked room so that I still have no idea how long I spent pleading to an empty room - that she was going to pack up her car and essentially ride off into the sunset.

My mother - correctly - warned me that this wouldn't happen. That my ex didn't really have a practical plan, and wouldn't really be so stupid as to leave and leave everything behind.

But I remember the immense relief I felt. I remember feeling the pleasure at a sense of certainty. So long that I couldn't even remember I had been continuously planning to leave all options open in case we stayed together, in case we didn't. Until she had suggested a finality, something I could actually plan, I didn't even realize how exhausting that was.

I knew the road ahead of me would be hard. We were behind on our mortgage and many other payments. But I had found myself limited in making long term plans with my hands tied not knowing what was happening with us.

My mother was right. She didn't leave. And even though she had family in the area that she had frequently threatened to go live with, she never did that, either.

Instead, she made my life a living hell to where I had no choice but to not only let go and walk away from her, but also to walk away from everything else in my life. From, essentially, my life.

I admit I mourn that more than I mourn losing her. Even though at some level it was just stuff. Letting go of my life, after I left, has been really hard.

Sometimes I have wondered why letting go of her was easier. And I came to realize it wasn't. I had just started earlier. I was looking back the other day at some old emails to friends. And I was surprised to remember that there was another milestone point in the end of our relationship - that we had been having problems a good year or so before the period I typically think of as the beginning of the end. I had softened my memory. But in hindsight, I had been learning to let go of her over three years before I was able to actually let go.

Today, another friend received correspondence from her soon to be ex-spouse saying that in order for him to be happy, he couldn't have any more contact with her. And while I know she was done being his wife, I can only imagine that part of her reaction is part of letting go, and the pain when someone else lets go of us.

It isn't easy to know these things, to go through these things. It takes time.

When my colleague told me of the change in tides, all I could do was give him a big hug. Even knowing that with time it gets better, it is hard to watch those you care about struggle with letting go.

As Elizabeth Bishop once wrote, the art of losing isn't hard to master:

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.


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Do Nothing...

We like to think that we are a society of action.  In our multi-tasking, crazy fast-paced world, we feel that we always must be doing SOMETHING.  We are bombarded with the media to "Just Do It!"  Writers, when facing that dreaded blank page (although usually these days it is a screen) are admonished to just write even if it's crap, and edit it later.  Get the juices flowing to start.  A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.  Get busy living..

We are a society geared for action. 

A body in motion stays in motion...

Blah, blah, blah.

Don't get me wrong.  That is all fine and dandy, and sometimes, when we're stuck, we should just take what little steps we can to get ourselves moving forward.  FlyLady is based on that idea that just a little bit at a time and we'll make more progress then we might realize.

It is easy to get stuck looking at the "big" picture and get overwhelmed and paralyzed.  It is easy, then, to do nothing.  Lord knows there is enough in my life that I have faced that it was easier to put off than to do.

But that isn't what this post is about.  This isn't about the hyperactive do everything, and everything must be done mentality. 

This is about those situations where the answer is to actually do nothing.  Where what is best is to do nothing. 

Those situations, sometimes, are the hardest to deal with.  They can come in many forms.  Such as bedrest for a difficult pregnancy.  Staying off a limb or joint after an injury.  Or healing emotionally after a trauma. 

We want to get moving.  We don't want to stay still.  We want to believe we heal faster than we might.  We want to push ourselves.  We don't know how to stop.  We see that light, or hope for that light, at the end of the tunnel, when we aren't being pulled back by our limitations.

Those situations are difficult.

But I pose, perhaps, they are not the hardest.  At least not for me.  For me the hardest situations are doing nothing when someone close to me needs help.  Or, at a minimum, is hurting.  Because really the whole point is that they may not need help.  Or more accurately, they may not need my help. 

And I see this issue over and over again when I watch adults figure out how to parent.  Where to set boundaries.  When to let their children make mistakes.  We want so hard to protect the ones we love, and it is so hard to realize that we can't always protect them, and that sometimes, even harder to accept, our protection is not really helping protect them after all.

It is easy for me to see these things professionally - to figure out where to streamline.  To figure out where taking more time NOW to get the process right is better over the long run for the business, and overall will be more efficient.

Figuring these things out personally is much harder.  At least for me.  How much do you help your kid with his homework?  At what point are you no longer helping but hindering him? 

At my age, many of my friends around me are re-evaluating their long-term relationships.  Having journeyed down this trail, I have some perspective on what to expect and how hard it is and ways to make it easier and ways it will be harder.  I have seen enough to have a fairly good sense of when something is worth saving or even savable, and when staying will merely be spinning one's wheels.  I know intimately the vulnerability and the fear that comes with the territory. 

Much like a parent can see the troubles a kid might encounter if they take certain actions, I can often see the results of particular choices.  And I care deeply about my friends and want to protect them from harm.  I want to set up a flare of warning - no, don't go down that path - wait, come this way.  You can go that way, but be aware that this might happen and decide what you want to do if it does. 

Sometimes that is helpful.  Sometimes that might even be wanted.  But we all like to think of ourselves as masters of our own destiny, and think we know ourselves and our own situations best.  And I am no exception.  I am just as stubborn when others try to warn me.  I think I will be different.  ;)  So I can respect my friends might feel the same way about their own journeys. 

The hardest thing to do as a friend is step aside and watch them take the journey on their own.  To find that right balance of being there for them, to catch them if they fall, hug them when they need it, but let them learn their own lessons, take their own path.  It is hard to give someone that space even when it is what they need most. 

I've had to do this with many friends.   With one friend recently, I have been better able to step outside and recognize that no matter how much I may want to help them avoid certain pitfalls, I cannot protect them from everything.  I am able to be amused standing outside and looking in.  Early on, I warned her that she might not want to do x.  She did x.  It didn't work out as she would have hoped.  I tried to bite my tongue and not directly say "I told you so..." but instead, more gently say, "I was worried about that happening." 

She would innocently ask me why I didn't warn her.  I'd tell her I did.  She'd say "Oh".  I'd laugh.  Sometimes out loud with her.  Sometimes not.  But after the first few times I realized that she would hear my advice when she was ready to hear it.  On the surface she wanted the advice, she was ready.  But inside, she wasn't ready to accept the changes that would be happening in her life.  Who really ever is? 

And I began to realize that it matters not whether I warn her.  That she, just as I did before her, will do whatever it is that she needs to do.  And she may get hurt.  I can't fix that.  I can't protect her.  I can't prevent it.  No matter how much I may want to.  Because it isn't about me simply protecting her from others.  It is, I have realized, about me protecting her from herself.  And she has the inside track to herself - I can't get between her and herself. 

This has been a tough journey for me, too.  Realizing that what I think helps is not always what helps.  And that I have to step back and let whatever will be will be.  That truly loving someone is letting them be themselves, and learn and grow and discover and experience their life.  We cannot protect the ones we love from everything.  We can't protect them from much.  All we can do is love them and support them no matter what they do. 

And that sometimes, the best thing we can do for them and for ourselves is nothing. 

Resistance is futile.

The right to funk...

No, there wasn't a typo there.  I wrote FUNK.  Get your mind out of the gutter..

In a successful relationship - whether partnership or simply even friends - I think some of the success depends upon your ability to rely upon each other.  There needs to be a balance there, or one party will ultimately decide that the relationship is not worthwhile.

In an ideal world, we're not keeping a score card. I remember a friend of mine used to talk literally about deposits in the friendship bank.  Frankly, that kind of scorekeeping isn't something I like. 

But I admit that there has to be a balance.  And when I was going through a hard time and ending (or not ending for awhile there) my long-term relationship, I made a lot of withdrawals from some friends, and for some, I over-extended my credit and lost their friendship. 

True friends don't keep a deposit or withdrawal record.  But we all, nonetheless, seek a balance.  When it is off-balance, it becomes unhealthy. 

In dissecting the demise of my long-term relationship, I can say that being off balance in that regards was certainly one stumbling block.  Whether it was true or not, I felt like the one who always had to be strong, who always had to be mature.  I felt that I didn't have a partner I could rely on when I needed it.  That my partner was dealing with so much hard stuff that she needed me, and eventually I felt like I wasn't allowed to need her.  Except I did.  After a long period of imbalance, the relationship not-so-surprisingly imploded. 

In relationships, there has to be a give and take.  Well, for them to be successful or healthy or of value..

I'd like to think that we don't just drop someone because they are having a period where they are feeling too needy.  If so, I am surprised I have any friends left.  I like to think I've built up good karma or a healthy balance if we do indeed have a mystical friendship credit union. 

I do think, too, that one other potential element of success is that when one person is having a crisis or meltdown, the other one has to be strong.  If they both break down...?  I guess the chaos that might ensue scares the hell out of me.  I don't know what would happen. I've just always managed myself relatively well enough to be strong when my partner or my friend needed me to. 

And perhaps what was part of the demise of my long-term relationship was that I could no longer be strong enough.  I dunno..

In the last day or so - okay so most of the week, I've been greedy - I've been in a bit of a funk.  A good friend of mine is my daily, hourly sounding board.  We send messages back and forth all day about a variety of topics.  Last night I hit a low place that wasn't particularly fun, and this morning, I woke up a little better, but still with this cloud of funk overhead. 

So she writes me about her woes this morning.  And me, supportive friend that I am, I cut her off immediately.  Quit it, I told her, I'm having the funk, so you have to have it together. 

She politely demurred.  She is a good friend.  I am really lucky to have her as my friend. 

And then later in our morning exchange, she slightly begins to broach the topic again. From another angle this time.  Perhaps hoping I won't notice.. but I do.  And I realize, now, that I have emerged from the worst of it.  It is time for me to be strong.  So I relinquish to her the right to funk. 

Because it's all about balance.

P-p-p-poker Face

It has become quite clear that I should not quit my day job and become a professional poker player. 

I know you spent hours agonizing over whether I should or not, but I'll save you further worry, I shouldn't.

Now, online poker playing with strangers you can't see might be a different story, but plain, in-your-face poker, um, no.

There are too many variables to control at one time.  With the ADD, I become hyper-focused, and to effectively play poker well, I imagine - since I haven't done it yet - you need to be able to not only concentrate on what you have in your hand and how to play with the cards life has dealt you, but you need to concentrate on finances - yours, and others, and you need to work on controlling your own expressions while observing the reactions of others as they get their cards, etc.  That's a lot to do all at once.  And I do not have that skill.

Ironically, as I typed all of that, it does sound a lot like life.  Except for the keeping track of the other guy's finances - that's really not any of my business in real life.  But you should be astute and read other people, and learn to play with the hand dealt you, manage your own finances, etc.  Those all sound like good things in life. 

Last night I was at some friends' home playing cards.  No, we were not playing poker, although if I did have money, I imagine these friends might have even some more fun with me.  But they know I'm broke, and wouldn't do that to me.  But we were playing one of the many variations of cards where you have to bid the number of tricks you are going to take. 

I am very conservative.  I typically bid under the number of tricks I actually took.  In this game, there's no penalty for that except that you don't gain the maximum number of points you could.  But if you overbid, you lose all the points you were hoping to gain.  I also know that I am NOT a skilled card counter.  But I have recognized that you also have to play to the players around you.  I challenge them because they play with each other all the time, so they know how the other will lay their cards down, but me, I'm an enigma.  I zig when I should have zagged.  I give away tricks I shouldn't.  I'm just not always sure the best way to play. 

My friend will comment on my hand afterwards, and tell me I should have bid two or three more tricks than I did.  Some of this is based upon my actual success, but most of it is based on what she would have bid.  But I gently remind her that I don't play the way she does, and the fact that I got those tricks was the good fortune of how the cards were played. 

She doesn't buy it.  But I think she also doesn't realize just how astute a player she is.  Not only does she know how to play her cards for maximum tricks, she is smart enough to watch the responses of the other players to get an idea of what their hand might be like.  Her predictive powers are quite a bit better than that broken clock that's only right twice a day. 

But I am risk averse.  And I bid conservatively.  Fortunately, I got dealt quite a few good hands, and despite the qualms about my bidding, I won. 

I guess she would have preferred that I won faster.  But now why would I do that? I was enjoying their company way too much to rush.  I just won't play poker with them.

Love yourself

This one I am starting before I hit the shower because I know it will be zinging through me in a few moments when I hit the water.  I will wait to post to add whatever brilliance I have from there to here.

In my life I have used what I will call "situational" therapy.  Therapy to help me during, well, situations.  Often transitions.  Often around relationships, whether with lovers or with family.  Sometimes it helps to have a second person help you navigate and negotiate through those straits.  In keeping with a nautical theme, it never hurts to have a second set of eyes helping keep watch as you move forward for things like, well icebergs (Can you BELIEVE that they are bringing The Titanic BACK to theaters? I saw that in a trailer yesterday!!!  In 3-D!  You'd think in 3-D they'd be able to see the iceberg... but I digress)

So I have heard the words from these folks and from other good well meaning intentioned friends that I need to love myself. 

I admit I've often been puzzled by this direction.  Not that I don't think it is important to love yourself - I do - but how do you KNOW if you love yourself? Or don't love yourself?  I wonder now, what self-loathing these people were observing, because frankly, I never saw it.

I do think I love myself.  I am quite comfortable with myself and have a pretty reasonable self-esteem.  I think their concern may arise from the fact that when I am in relationships, I tend to become involved in others' interests that I may not necessarily pursue on my own.  I can see, from the outside, where that could be concerning for those who love me, but I can say with all certainty that I am not losing myself in them in the way that they fear.  I am enjoying the company of people I love.  And if something is important to them, particularly if I haven't done it myself, I'm willing to to give it a whirl and see if it's fun.  I will admit, most often the reason it is fun, is because of their company.  And, yes, some of those activities fall off my to-do list when I am no longer hanging with a particular person.

But ironically, this post isn't about me.  Or rather this post isn't inspired by me. 

My head feels, at the moment, like it is going to explode.

I came out in high school.  And looking backwards from there, it made sense.  I had crushes on several female teachers, I liked to look down some of their shirts (natural curiosity that doesn't mean I'm gay, but certainly makes more sense in context of it), had ardent feelings for my female best friends, etc.  And most people, apparently, knew before I did, and asked me when I finally did come out what took so long, or said "Duh!"

But I do remember that early time period wondering, "could I be... " "Am I..." I couldn't even write the word "lesbian" then.  But I knew what I was referring to, so I didn't need to.  I went on a journey of exploration.  Remembered my interest and curiosity in other lesbians I had met or had seen on television.  Read "Our Bodies, Ourselves" and recognized an an affinity with the writing about the women who loved women.  But I was scared to kiss one, and even more scared of what else might happen - I had not yet been sexual, although I had done some heavy petting.  I had no idea what to do with a woman.  And frankly the thought of doing some things that I really, really, really enjoy now were quite disgusting to me to think about.  But then again, who is turned on by french kissing before you actually try it?  I digress.

I'm lucky.  My family was reasonably supportive.  And all of this, frankly, should have been part of another post, but today's pending head explosion has required me to get all this introductory stuff out of the way.

A friend of mine is coming out late in life.  Ironically she's one of several. I always seem to attract people who are about to come out as friends. I wonder why?  ;)

And she has the normal questioning:  Am I really this way? Why am I this way? Did I drink the Kool-Aid? What will others think? Who do I tell? Do I tell anyone? Can they tell just by looking at me?  What does it mean?  Am I okay?  Will my friends still like me? Will people still love me? 

My answers to those questions, frankly, are:

• Yes,
• Does it really matter?
• Maybe, but it wasn't Kool-Aid that made you this way. 
• Who cares?
• Anyone you want or no-one you don't want. 
• It's up to you. 
• Some might, most won't; those of us who are may have a better chance of recognizing you. 
• It means, at a minimum, you're not straight. 
• Yes, you're okay. 
• Yes, your true friends will still like you. 
• Yes, people will still love you. 

But I am beginning to sense that the underlying question that she may be asking or she should be asking is "Do I still love myself?"

Because she has acknowledged that she doesn't think there's anything wrong with LGBQTalphabet in others.  She's not queer-phobic or think that it's wrong in others.  And actually, this isn't her first time at the rodeo.

To me, being gay is just a part of who I am.  A part that has always been there.  A part as natural to me as having five fingers.  I don't define myself by having five fingers, but if you took them away, I wouldn't quite be myself.  (Maybe this is a bad analogy, but it is similar to the one I made to her, so let's roll with it).  She is worried that maybe she was this way because others told her she was, and not because she had arrived here on her own.  And yet, she agreed upon further questioning, that there was no one throwing her out or pushing her or pulling her out of the closet door this time.  That coming out was not something that was fashionably correct that she was trying to emulate.  But, she wondered, do I really have a mark on me or do I just believe I do because others have told me I do?

So I made the analogy of a birthmark.  Analogies are tricky things.  If you don't think them out first, they could back-fire on you.  And maybe I didn't.  But I explained to her that being this way  (and exactly what "this way" means is still unclear - there's a lot of grey area in sexuality despite what others might say or think) for her and her experience is like having a birthmark on her back.  It's been there all along, but she couldn't see it.  Others told her it was there when she was younger, but she never saw it, herself.  She trusted others that it was there. 

Now she's wondering if it is really there.  And I told her I had fancy mirrors and could take a picture of it so she could see. 

And this morning she asked, "what if it's a melanoma?" 

What if her queer feelings were actually a cancer?! Really???

I'd like to say I'm speechless, but you can see from above, I'm clearly not.

I am kind of angry, I'll admit.  But mostly I am very, very sad. 

Because suddenly I was struck with this lightening bolt: "Oh, this is what it looks like when you don't love yourself" 

The good news for me is I know that is not me - I am clear that I do, very much indeed, love myself. 

And as much as I'd like to rejoice in that knowledge, my heart is heavy for my friend.  Very heavy.

Now I ask questions in life.  And so I have, on more than one occasion, asked in response to someone who told me I needed to love myself how I do that.  And none of them exactly had the answer to that, although one did give me a guide to masturbation.  (No, I kid, but really, you knew the joke had to come in somewhere....)

I am shaking my head because I really wish, now, I had the answer.

And I think the answer might be that you love yourself the same way you love others.  You put their needs first.  You make what is important to them important to you.  You try to make their burden easier.  You accept them with all of their flaws.  You recognize that they are not perfect.  That they will make mistakes.  That they will have inconsistencies.  They are beautiful in your eyes just the way they are because you love them.  You want what is best for them.  You want them to find happiness and peace.  You don't want them to hurt.  You enjoy their company.  Their smile makes you smile.  You want to support them no matter what they want to do.  I don't know - this isn't easy.  Often hormones help you "love" someone else while you build a solid foundation of emotional love underneath the chemical one.   

There is a lot of what Paul wrote that I don't agree with, but this seems as good a guideline as any:

"Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.  It does not insist on its own way, it is not irritable or resentful, it does not rejoice in wrong doing, but rejoices in the truth"

How to apply that to loving yourself? 

Love is patient.  Be patient with yourself. 
Love is kind.  Be kind to yourself. 
It is not irritable or resentful.  Accept yourself as you are, without resentment. 
And find some way to rejoice in the truth - no matter how scary it is. 

And know that others love you and you deserve to be loved.  Most especially by you. 

Elevator Speech

I have lived in big metropolitan areas, so I remember what an elevator is.  But I do laugh at this expression now, living here in a small town where I can't really recall the last time I was on an elevator.  Seriously.

But a friend of mine who is going through a divorce was trying to formulate her "elevator speech" for when she met new people.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the term (like those of us who don't live around elevators anymore), basically you have time travelling in a tall building up and down the elevator with strangers.  Enough time to strike up an albeit quick conversation.  A chance to get to know each other.

Quick is the operative word.  The theory is you have about 30 seconds. (Unless, of course, some bozo hit all the buttons - don't be that bozo)

And the point is for entrepreneurs to use that time wisely to sell whatever it is you're selling.  You have thirty seconds.

That, and when you go to networking meetings, to meet other entrepreneurs, you are usually given about 30 seconds to introduce yourself and whatever it is you're selling.

Thirty seconds.

Since my friend brought it up, I've been thinking about it. 

While the term is frequently used in a business context, frankly, it's usuable in many social situations.  I mean you probably wouldn't want to start with your elevator speech in a bar when you meet someone, but it's good to have a few soundbites practiced and ready to give out to summarize your life down to edible nuggets.

When you live in a town where the only elevator takes you up just a story or two, you have to be fast.

But we are living in a world of sound-bites.  You have 140 characters to twit tweet the perfect line.  Facebook seems to have relaxed it's character limitations.  But let's face it, no-one reads the notes very often.  Often all we get from people are the headlines, the quick lines.

I am a person who tends to operate with a best friend.  Someone I share all my random thoughts with.  That person may or may not also be a lover, but I need and like a best friend.  Because I have a lot that goes through my head and I like to share.  (Haven't you figured that out?)  Maybe it's that ADD-thing.

But that's a lot of responsibility for just one person.  And it isn't infrequent for me to have someone say "I'll read every word you write" to eventually, not.   (It stings just a wee bit when she's the current love of your life, but...)

So, it should not be surprising, in this round about fashion, that I have turned to blogging.  Because all the stuff flying through my head is too much for one person to absorb.  So I need to spread it around.

And I have chosen you.

Make me no promises to read my every word - I have trust issues there - but feel free to do so.  And let me know what you think.  My best friends will be happy to share the reading responsibilities with you.


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