So, I've been in Canada about a month and a half, and my poor sweet baby has had two incidences of feeling sick enough or bad enough to stay home from work. So I've had two opportunities to play nurse-maid to my sick baby.
And I must say I've done a smashing job of it. I've discovered that the job is quite easy.
Let's face it: what we need most when we are sick is rest. Sleep is the best way to allow our body time and opportunity to heal itself. So, sleep is what my baby gets. The first time she was sick - battling strep throat, she slept about 21 hours each day for about three days. I did what any good partner would do. I stayed with her while she slept. And, um, slept myself. It was, after all, a good way to allow my immune system to stay strong to avoid contracting the strep throat myself. (I could post a gruesome picture showing the infection growing on her tonsil, but I imagine she'd rather I didn't...)
Today (er, yesterday?) my baby had a horrible headache when she woke, and I did what any good girlfriend would do. I stayed in bed with her and slept while she slept it off herself.
Unfortunately, my friend insomnia decided THIS time to come visit me this evening. He thought I'd had enough rest and sleep in the last few days, particularly considering I had gone to bed early the night before myself. And so she sleeps now, in the middle of the night like she's supposed to, and I return to my old craft of blogging. The lost art.
Because I am the teddy bear nursemaid. I heal by allowing you (well, not YOU, but, the sick person who happens to be my partner) snuggle up to me like I'm your teddy bear, while we let Mother Nature do the hard work. Who needs chicken soup (particularly when your baby IS a chicken, and there's all sorts of cannibalism questions there) when you can have rest and snuggling?
Showing posts with label love letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love letters. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Life..
So, as we wind up the third month of the year, I have come to realize I have written less posts this YEAR so far than an average month last year.
Kait takes the blame.
But I don't know that I would blame her, although certainly, her presence in my life has filled up some of the holes that I used the blog to fill. (Don't over-analyze that too much, I don't want to...)
Some of it, I will admit, is when I am inspired, I may be spending time with her, and it's not the same as spending time with oneself to pull away and write. Like before I wrote that last sentence, which I had composed in my head, she put her head on my computer and smiled at me and suddenly all I wanted to do was close this window and kiss her. Except she's been sick. Or last night, when I was having this wonderful inspiration, but I didn't want to get out of bed to write it. Not only didn't I want to wake myself, but I didn't want to risk waking her.
But frankly, that's as much an excuse as anything (except these last few days she's been home sick) because frankly I have five days - ALL DAY - when she isn't here. When I would have plenty of time, to say, have a full-time job, let alone write a silly little blog like this.
It's been two weeks, and I feel fairly at home here. Kind of surprising but really kind of nice.
Canada is still a foreign country, but I have lost track of how many hockey games I have watched - either in full or even partial while flipping (kindly) from some place else. I am learning how to translate Celsius to get an idea - 10 degrees is now warm. Still trying not to pay attention to the fact that there are 3.78liters litres to the gallon and at $1.39 per litre, gas is OVER $5/gallon. I have made it to the library. Twice. Getting a refresher in French by reading labels at the grocery.
(Yes, by the way, there IS a Canuck's game on, so Kait is not paying as close attention to me as she might otherwise... Given the consolidated hockey schedule, I probably have EVEN more time to write, and there is even less reason to blame Kait).
But when I think about where I was a year ago... it is such a different place from where I am now. I had no idea my life would change so much in such a short amount of time, but really, I give myself a break and recognize that this change was a long time coming.
I miss some parts of my old life. Some people, mostly. But I am happy here. I am getting into routines (see my last post).
Tomorrow - if she's feeling better and goes to work - I will try to reinsert this whole blog-writing thing back into my routines. Because I still have things to say and share.
Even if life (or Kait) gets in the way.... ;)
Kait takes the blame.
But I don't know that I would blame her, although certainly, her presence in my life has filled up some of the holes that I used the blog to fill. (Don't over-analyze that too much, I don't want to...)
Some of it, I will admit, is when I am inspired, I may be spending time with her, and it's not the same as spending time with oneself to pull away and write. Like before I wrote that last sentence, which I had composed in my head, she put her head on my computer and smiled at me and suddenly all I wanted to do was close this window and kiss her. Except she's been sick. Or last night, when I was having this wonderful inspiration, but I didn't want to get out of bed to write it. Not only didn't I want to wake myself, but I didn't want to risk waking her.
But frankly, that's as much an excuse as anything (except these last few days she's been home sick) because frankly I have five days - ALL DAY - when she isn't here. When I would have plenty of time, to say, have a full-time job, let alone write a silly little blog like this.
It's been two weeks, and I feel fairly at home here. Kind of surprising but really kind of nice.
Canada is still a foreign country, but I have lost track of how many hockey games I have watched - either in full or even partial while flipping (kindly) from some place else. I am learning how to translate Celsius to get an idea - 10 degrees is now warm. Still trying not to pay attention to the fact that there are 3.78
(Yes, by the way, there IS a Canuck's game on, so Kait is not paying as close attention to me as she might otherwise... Given the consolidated hockey schedule, I probably have EVEN more time to write, and there is even less reason to blame Kait).
But when I think about where I was a year ago... it is such a different place from where I am now. I had no idea my life would change so much in such a short amount of time, but really, I give myself a break and recognize that this change was a long time coming.
I miss some parts of my old life. Some people, mostly. But I am happy here. I am getting into routines (see my last post).
Tomorrow - if she's feeling better and goes to work - I will try to reinsert this whole blog-writing thing back into my routines. Because I still have things to say and share.
Even if life (or Kait) gets in the way.... ;)
Friday, March 22, 2013
Domesticated....
Hmm... as my hands dry from the third .. or is it fourth?.. time washing dishes today, I can't help but wonder how I became domesticated so quickly.
Think of me - generally - as having more the habits of a guy (I know, guys, you're probably better than me, so forgive me the insult). For the last three years, I've lived alone. Answered to no-one, had few guests, and so chores were, well, optional. Except laundry. Don't worry, I did laundry. Although I did learn how to make certain items of clothing last longer.... (I also own many, many, many pairs of underwear.. oops TMI)
Make my bed? Why? I was gonna be back in it later that night.. Aw hell, who am I kidding? If I was at home, I'd be back in it within a few minutes, getting out usually just to go to the fridge or the bathroom or something. I was the only one using my toilet, and I had no pets (for the most part), so there was no reason to put the lid down. My bathroom was spacious enough it wasn't as if I had things above the toilet waiting to fall in. As long as I could get back and forth to the fridge and the bathroom and the front door, who really cared if there were clothes, or books or other things on other parts of the floor? If I had plenty of clean dishes (and I had plenty of sets of dishes) what was the rush in washing the dishes?
Well, I wasn't necessarily that bad...
Oh, wait, that's right, my girl reads this, I can't get away with that...
But it's been just under two weeks here, and I have been quite domesticated. If I'm still in bed when she leaves in the morning, I make the bed. (Usually not until about 3 PM or so, but still...). And if she's here, I often help her make it. I've learned to put the lid down on the toilet because the bathroom is, shall we say, cozy. I don't always get it right. I've learned to pull the shower curtain shut before drying my towel, so that it won't get mildewy on the bottom. And, I've learned how to wash dishes after every meal (or right before she comes home, whichever works...), and put the dishes away, even.
I have been domesticated.
It's not necessarily a bad thing. I'm not sure if I ended up living on my own again any time soon (and I'm not hoping for this, understand) I'd probably quickly revert to my slovenly ways. Because I understand very well what the motivation is for doing them now. (Hopefully you haven't eaten any time soon, because I might make you gag....) The motivation is "Love".
Now, it would *PROBABLY* be more loving if I didn't point it out every time she came home, "Hey, babe? Look, I made the bed! You know what this says?" She's started to roll her eyes at this point, and frankly, I can't blame her... "It says, 'I love you!'"
I do these things because it makes HER happy. And that's reason enough. And that, my friends, is how I have become domesticated.
P.S. I'm sure I still have quite a ways to go... but I am a work in progress at least... ;)
Think of me - generally - as having more the habits of a guy (I know, guys, you're probably better than me, so forgive me the insult). For the last three years, I've lived alone. Answered to no-one, had few guests, and so chores were, well, optional. Except laundry. Don't worry, I did laundry. Although I did learn how to make certain items of clothing last longer.... (I also own many, many, many pairs of underwear.. oops TMI)
Make my bed? Why? I was gonna be back in it later that night.. Aw hell, who am I kidding? If I was at home, I'd be back in it within a few minutes, getting out usually just to go to the fridge or the bathroom or something. I was the only one using my toilet, and I had no pets (for the most part), so there was no reason to put the lid down. My bathroom was spacious enough it wasn't as if I had things above the toilet waiting to fall in. As long as I could get back and forth to the fridge and the bathroom and the front door, who really cared if there were clothes, or books or other things on other parts of the floor? If I had plenty of clean dishes (and I had plenty of sets of dishes) what was the rush in washing the dishes?
Well, I wasn't necessarily that bad...
Oh, wait, that's right, my girl reads this, I can't get away with that...
But it's been just under two weeks here, and I have been quite domesticated. If I'm still in bed when she leaves in the morning, I make the bed. (Usually not until about 3 PM or so, but still...). And if she's here, I often help her make it. I've learned to put the lid down on the toilet because the bathroom is, shall we say, cozy. I don't always get it right. I've learned to pull the shower curtain shut before drying my towel, so that it won't get mildewy on the bottom. And, I've learned how to wash dishes after every meal (or right before she comes home, whichever works...), and put the dishes away, even.
I have been domesticated.
It's not necessarily a bad thing. I'm not sure if I ended up living on my own again any time soon (and I'm not hoping for this, understand) I'd probably quickly revert to my slovenly ways. Because I understand very well what the motivation is for doing them now. (Hopefully you haven't eaten any time soon, because I might make you gag....) The motivation is "Love".
Now, it would *PROBABLY* be more loving if I didn't point it out every time she came home, "Hey, babe? Look, I made the bed! You know what this says?" She's started to roll her eyes at this point, and frankly, I can't blame her... "It says, 'I love you!'"
I do these things because it makes HER happy. And that's reason enough. And that, my friends, is how I have become domesticated.
P.S. I'm sure I still have quite a ways to go... but I am a work in progress at least... ;)
Thursday, February 14, 2013
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.
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.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
What AM I waiting for?
Waking this morning to find heart-breaking tweets from my love, I can't help but be asking this question. It isn't like it's the first time in the last week that I've asked the question. Ever since my passport arrived last Saturday while she was still here, we've been - or I've been - asking the question.
There are three or four "hooks", I guess, that keep me from taking off immediately, and even then, their ability to hold me here keeps loosening.
The first hook we talked about when we first became romantic was the one that provided us the structure of the laughable idea of a two-year plan. My commitment to my church. But I have quickly grown to realize that these people truly care for me, and what they would want most for me is to be happy. And the new guy we have in as priest is doing a good job getting himself settled in and taking ownership. They don't need me like they might have needed me if he hadn't done this as he should. When we were dealing with supply priests - a priest who was just filling in as a supply for our need - then we were the ones still responsible for running the church. That just doesn't apply any more. Thank goodness!
So while I will feel some guilt and some loss at letting go of this fine community that helped me sail through my healing and recovery process, I know, nonetheless, that when I'm ready to say "goodbye", they'll be okay. That is a hook that I can gently release.
The second hook is actually two fold - just cleaning up and packing to go and leaving nothing behind. I have accumulated some junk - none of which I am attached to to keep other than if I am living here. Furniture, basically. And I've just accumulated a lot of paperwork that is unnecessary to keep - stuff that I couldn't throw out because I *MIGHT* need it. As well as the general paraphernalia for running a household. Like a fridge. Or lawnmower. I need to clean these out of the house, apparently, before I were to move. And to pack up what remains reasonably enough to fit in my car. This is somewhat easy, although, I don't want to call Salvation Army to pick up my bed until the car itself is packed and ready to go... I kinda enjoy having some place to sleep other than the floor...
The second "fold" of this is that I did manage to rescue some stuff from California when I left. And it has all been sitting in a storage unit about 300-400 miles away near where my folks' live. Surprisingly it is not worth continuing to pay $200+ a month to keep. They have been kind to help me do so, as I have been unable to face the overwhelming monstrosity that is the storage unit, but it is time for it to be cleaned out and stuff to be tossed and sold and given away. I have been ignoring it for three and a half years now, it is time to face it and deal with it - before I move on.
The last hook is an awkward one, frankly. I finally return to work this week after having been gone for nearly three weeks, really, even though she was only here for one of them. I had a parishioner who was dying, and I stayed with him and his family for the last two days of his life, and I had a few of my "old ladies" go in and out of the hospital, and I did have a funeral to help prepare for. The two weeks before my love visited were full, to say the least. So, I get a bit of understandable guff from the guy who owns the place and who was kind enough to hire me over whether I'm still working here or not. On more than one occasion. And so I have to pretend like it's business as usual because it isn't as if I have any clue exactly when I will get everything together to go, and money - particularly for making a move - is a good thing. And I'm a writer for him.. I have several outstanding things I've been working on. Some of which - yes - could be written remotely, but he'd prefer to see my face to know I'm working on it and making progress. I can't exactly leave entirely without finishing what he's been paying me to write. And I'm not exactly sure how and when that will happen.
But I want to pack up my car and go now. Call a friend and ask her to deal with the Salvation Army for the furniture - tell her she has until the end of the month since the rent is paid up. Offer the appliances to the landlord. And go. That's what I want to do now.
But there's an annual meeting for church that I'm running... and then there's those pesky projects that need to be finished and the outstanding storage unit to be dealt with...
I have the passport burning the metaphorical hole in my pocket...
Blah!
There are three or four "hooks", I guess, that keep me from taking off immediately, and even then, their ability to hold me here keeps loosening.
The first hook we talked about when we first became romantic was the one that provided us the structure of the laughable idea of a two-year plan. My commitment to my church. But I have quickly grown to realize that these people truly care for me, and what they would want most for me is to be happy. And the new guy we have in as priest is doing a good job getting himself settled in and taking ownership. They don't need me like they might have needed me if he hadn't done this as he should. When we were dealing with supply priests - a priest who was just filling in as a supply for our need - then we were the ones still responsible for running the church. That just doesn't apply any more. Thank goodness!
So while I will feel some guilt and some loss at letting go of this fine community that helped me sail through my healing and recovery process, I know, nonetheless, that when I'm ready to say "goodbye", they'll be okay. That is a hook that I can gently release.
The second hook is actually two fold - just cleaning up and packing to go and leaving nothing behind. I have accumulated some junk - none of which I am attached to to keep other than if I am living here. Furniture, basically. And I've just accumulated a lot of paperwork that is unnecessary to keep - stuff that I couldn't throw out because I *MIGHT* need it. As well as the general paraphernalia for running a household. Like a fridge. Or lawnmower. I need to clean these out of the house, apparently, before I were to move. And to pack up what remains reasonably enough to fit in my car. This is somewhat easy, although, I don't want to call Salvation Army to pick up my bed until the car itself is packed and ready to go... I kinda enjoy having some place to sleep other than the floor...
The second "fold" of this is that I did manage to rescue some stuff from California when I left. And it has all been sitting in a storage unit about 300-400 miles away near where my folks' live. Surprisingly it is not worth continuing to pay $200+ a month to keep. They have been kind to help me do so, as I have been unable to face the overwhelming monstrosity that is the storage unit, but it is time for it to be cleaned out and stuff to be tossed and sold and given away. I have been ignoring it for three and a half years now, it is time to face it and deal with it - before I move on.
The last hook is an awkward one, frankly. I finally return to work this week after having been gone for nearly three weeks, really, even though she was only here for one of them. I had a parishioner who was dying, and I stayed with him and his family for the last two days of his life, and I had a few of my "old ladies" go in and out of the hospital, and I did have a funeral to help prepare for. The two weeks before my love visited were full, to say the least. So, I get a bit of understandable guff from the guy who owns the place and who was kind enough to hire me over whether I'm still working here or not. On more than one occasion. And so I have to pretend like it's business as usual because it isn't as if I have any clue exactly when I will get everything together to go, and money - particularly for making a move - is a good thing. And I'm a writer for him.. I have several outstanding things I've been working on. Some of which - yes - could be written remotely, but he'd prefer to see my face to know I'm working on it and making progress. I can't exactly leave entirely without finishing what he's been paying me to write. And I'm not exactly sure how and when that will happen.
But I want to pack up my car and go now. Call a friend and ask her to deal with the Salvation Army for the furniture - tell her she has until the end of the month since the rent is paid up. Offer the appliances to the landlord. And go. That's what I want to do now.
But there's an annual meeting for church that I'm running... and then there's those pesky projects that need to be finished and the outstanding storage unit to be dealt with...
I have the passport burning the metaphorical hole in my pocket...
Blah!
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Sleepless 'til Seattle....
I have just returned home from the airport to an empty house. A house that has been filled the past nine days with the presence and being and sounds and scent of the woman I'm incredibly in love with. A woman who is now on a plane to take her to another plane that will take her back to Seattle where she will still have another long drive across the border.
My "journey" for this trip is done... but hers is just beginning.
The original plan had been for me to make the trip and come and see her first. I have more flexibility in my work schedule since they don't pay me when I don't work and I had intended to come out for a long visit to be with her. But the original certificate of my birth given to my parents 40+ years failed to list them on it, and thanks, I imagine to the Donald requiring a long-form birth certificate, so does everyone else now. So to get across the border to see her I needed a long form birth certificate to get a new passport.
This process has been a comedy of errors. Primarily in getting a new birth certificate. But that arrived about three weeks ago - about six weeks after I requested it - and I sent it off for my passport about two and a half weeks ago.
When she was here, we "joked" - although I was kinda serious - that if my passport arrived before she left, that we would just pack up the car and go, and I'd leave this one horse town.
To the State Department's credit, they processed my application in record time - just over two weeks!
It arrived yesterday.
Believe me, we did seriously consider it. Well at least I did. She has a sounder head on my shoulders (have I mentioned yet that she's smarter than me? She is...). And tonight, I do wonder just what it is that is keeping me here...
I will probably be sleepless until she arrives in Seattle... Seeing her here and there... everywhere but really here in my arms.
Hopeless romantic...
My "journey" for this trip is done... but hers is just beginning.
The original plan had been for me to make the trip and come and see her first. I have more flexibility in my work schedule since they don't pay me when I don't work and I had intended to come out for a long visit to be with her. But the original certificate of my birth given to my parents 40+ years failed to list them on it, and thanks, I imagine to the Donald requiring a long-form birth certificate, so does everyone else now. So to get across the border to see her I needed a long form birth certificate to get a new passport.
This process has been a comedy of errors. Primarily in getting a new birth certificate. But that arrived about three weeks ago - about six weeks after I requested it - and I sent it off for my passport about two and a half weeks ago.
When she was here, we "joked" - although I was kinda serious - that if my passport arrived before she left, that we would just pack up the car and go, and I'd leave this one horse town.
To the State Department's credit, they processed my application in record time - just over two weeks!
It arrived yesterday.
Believe me, we did seriously consider it. Well at least I did. She has a sounder head on my shoulders (have I mentioned yet that she's smarter than me? She is...). And tonight, I do wonder just what it is that is keeping me here...
I will probably be sleepless until she arrives in Seattle... Seeing her here and there... everywhere but really here in my arms.
Hopeless romantic...
Monday, January 21, 2013
Love...
In my head, and in my heart, I suppose, I have certain things that I expect to be done or felt between people who love each other. That if A loved B then X wouldn't really matter but Y would. Now, wait, I sound like I am writing an algebra equation.
I have been quite the observer - particularly over the last three or four years - of people's relationships. Trying to figure out what makes them successful, and where there are signs of failure. Trying, I presume, consciously or subconsciously, to figure it out so I have a better shot the next time I jump into the relationship waters. Trying to figure out what behavior is loving and what is not loving.
And I think I have a pretty good idea of some of the important ingredients necessary for a successful and loving relationship. Some things are pretty straightforward. Things like valuing what your partner values. Being respectful even when you disagree. Realizing that being right doesn't always mean you need to win, and that winning often - at least with arguments - isn't really winning. Lots of good trite guidance, but stuff that nonetheless I believe in. And maybe one day I will write a post about these things. (Or maybe I already did?)
After my marriage came to an end, I was told by more than one person that I needed to find someone who would love me like I loved them. Seems reasonable enough, but what does that really mean? I think it means some of the things I discovered in my observance above. That someone who really loves me will find the things I find important simply because I do. And won't worry about the things I find unimportant. Who will love me for me, and not for my things, or for what I can do or bring to the relationship. Who will love me despite my ADD or maybe even love me for who my ADD has made me - flaws and human and all.
If you have been reading this at all, you'll know that I have dipped my toe into the relationship waters, again. Actually, I seem to have dove in head first. Or more accurately heart first. I tend to do that sometimes. I did bring wee bit of baggage. Criticisms from girls past. Things that I know shouldn't matter but often do or have.
And so, in these early stages, we have traipsed along some of these issues and as I have left myself vulnerable to her and exposed my insecurities, she reacts as I would to someone who would do the same to me. Laugh, basically, and call me silly. Silly to worry. Silly to care. Silly to think that she would care. But not silly in an emotionally abusive intentionally hurtful way, but in a way to help me realize that these matters I take so seriously, and worry so much about, are not so serious, and do not deserve worry. She reassures me in the moment. And then, later, as she's had more time to think on my concern, and perhaps in an unconscious (or conscious? who knows? She's very smart - much smarter than me!) effort to make sure I didn't feel dismissed, she usually will write a follow-up e-mail saying, "Look, Borg, I've really been thinking about Y and how you feel, and I want you to know, I really do believe..." and reassure me again. AND THEN, because that may not be enough, she'll bring it up later in a conversation, gently, and reassure me once again. And IF I am too silly to realize I don't need to be silly, still, and I tentatively express a concern or a worry, she hears my underlying insecurity and addresses it again.
WOW! I mean really.. WOW, right?
I'll give you an example. My most recent insecurity has been coming to accept and acknowledge (although really I'm still in denial) that I am a slob. I am still in denial because I will tell you I am better than many. It is all relative, after all. But I am not the standard that *I* would like to be at, and I do feel, often, that my environment is chaotic. I would prefer to be neater, but there are some bonafide and perhaps less bonafide obstacles standing in my way. (Being Human, see earlier post, is one of them.. SHOCKER!). I do pride myself that I don't have anything growing outside the fridge, but I do also have dust bunnies copulating in the kitchen and the bedroom. They entertain me.... (okay, not, but it sounded cute for a moment in my head).
I worry, needlessly, that she'll step into my home for the first time, see the stacks of papers and go screaming in the other direction. And yet, in addition to her reassurances, I know I don't have to worry. She's the kinda gal who gets upset at people who tweet how much better they feel about themselves after watching Hoarders and pleading for them to have compassion for the mentally ill (although I think she phrases it even nicer than that..) So, it's good to know she'll have compassion for me and my mental illness.. No.. wait.. that isn't where I meant to go. Hmm....
She's coming to visit me soon, and I created a 72 point list of things I'd *like* to do before she gets here to get the house in order (Remember #3 in the list of So Who Am I? is that I'm a geek). But God has a sense of humor, and life, unfortunately, has gotten in the way. Actually, more accurately, death - a parishioner in our church passed away Saturday morning, and I sat with him and with his family the last two days of his life, and will now be with the family in preparing for the funeral arrangements, and prepare at the church for the service itself. As much as I would like to get to those 72 items (or at least, even, 25 of them) the reality is I probably won't get to more than another two or three that are really important and the rest will go by the wayside.. Or, in a fit of idiocy, I'll take everything in the rest of the house and shove it all into one room where I will never let her see... Oh. Wait. She reads this blog... that won't work.. she'll be too curious to open the door NOW!
And she's said to me, quite often, "Look, Borg, the only place I want to be when I come is in your arms. I don't care about the rest...." You know something? I actually believe her.
Now that, my friends, is love...
I have been quite the observer - particularly over the last three or four years - of people's relationships. Trying to figure out what makes them successful, and where there are signs of failure. Trying, I presume, consciously or subconsciously, to figure it out so I have a better shot the next time I jump into the relationship waters. Trying to figure out what behavior is loving and what is not loving.
And I think I have a pretty good idea of some of the important ingredients necessary for a successful and loving relationship. Some things are pretty straightforward. Things like valuing what your partner values. Being respectful even when you disagree. Realizing that being right doesn't always mean you need to win, and that winning often - at least with arguments - isn't really winning. Lots of good trite guidance, but stuff that nonetheless I believe in. And maybe one day I will write a post about these things. (Or maybe I already did?)
After my marriage came to an end, I was told by more than one person that I needed to find someone who would love me like I loved them. Seems reasonable enough, but what does that really mean? I think it means some of the things I discovered in my observance above. That someone who really loves me will find the things I find important simply because I do. And won't worry about the things I find unimportant. Who will love me for me, and not for my things, or for what I can do or bring to the relationship. Who will love me despite my ADD or maybe even love me for who my ADD has made me - flaws and human and all.
If you have been reading this at all, you'll know that I have dipped my toe into the relationship waters, again. Actually, I seem to have dove in head first. Or more accurately heart first. I tend to do that sometimes. I did bring wee bit of baggage. Criticisms from girls past. Things that I know shouldn't matter but often do or have.
And so, in these early stages, we have traipsed along some of these issues and as I have left myself vulnerable to her and exposed my insecurities, she reacts as I would to someone who would do the same to me. Laugh, basically, and call me silly. Silly to worry. Silly to care. Silly to think that she would care. But not silly in an emotionally abusive intentionally hurtful way, but in a way to help me realize that these matters I take so seriously, and worry so much about, are not so serious, and do not deserve worry. She reassures me in the moment. And then, later, as she's had more time to think on my concern, and perhaps in an unconscious (or conscious? who knows? She's very smart - much smarter than me!) effort to make sure I didn't feel dismissed, she usually will write a follow-up e-mail saying, "Look, Borg, I've really been thinking about Y and how you feel, and I want you to know, I really do believe..." and reassure me again. AND THEN, because that may not be enough, she'll bring it up later in a conversation, gently, and reassure me once again. And IF I am too silly to realize I don't need to be silly, still, and I tentatively express a concern or a worry, she hears my underlying insecurity and addresses it again.
WOW! I mean really.. WOW, right?
I'll give you an example. My most recent insecurity has been coming to accept and acknowledge (although really I'm still in denial) that I am a slob. I am still in denial because I will tell you I am better than many. It is all relative, after all. But I am not the standard that *I* would like to be at, and I do feel, often, that my environment is chaotic. I would prefer to be neater, but there are some bonafide and perhaps less bonafide obstacles standing in my way. (Being Human, see earlier post, is one of them.. SHOCKER!). I do pride myself that I don't have anything growing outside the fridge, but I do also have dust bunnies copulating in the kitchen and the bedroom. They entertain me.... (okay, not, but it sounded cute for a moment in my head).
I worry, needlessly, that she'll step into my home for the first time, see the stacks of papers and go screaming in the other direction. And yet, in addition to her reassurances, I know I don't have to worry. She's the kinda gal who gets upset at people who tweet how much better they feel about themselves after watching Hoarders and pleading for them to have compassion for the mentally ill (although I think she phrases it even nicer than that..) So, it's good to know she'll have compassion for me and my mental illness.. No.. wait.. that isn't where I meant to go. Hmm....
She's coming to visit me soon, and I created a 72 point list of things I'd *like* to do before she gets here to get the house in order (Remember #3 in the list of So Who Am I? is that I'm a geek). But God has a sense of humor, and life, unfortunately, has gotten in the way. Actually, more accurately, death - a parishioner in our church passed away Saturday morning, and I sat with him and with his family the last two days of his life, and will now be with the family in preparing for the funeral arrangements, and prepare at the church for the service itself. As much as I would like to get to those 72 items (or at least, even, 25 of them) the reality is I probably won't get to more than another two or three that are really important and the rest will go by the wayside.. Or, in a fit of idiocy, I'll take everything in the rest of the house and shove it all into one room where I will never let her see... Oh. Wait. She reads this blog... that won't work.. she'll be too curious to open the door NOW!
And she's said to me, quite often, "Look, Borg, the only place I want to be when I come is in your arms. I don't care about the rest...." You know something? I actually believe her.
Now that, my friends, is love...
Friday, January 11, 2013
My Girl!
In last night's post, I referenced a parody of Before He Cheats called Before He Speaks, that was a warning from pastor's wives to their husbands about using them for sermon fodder. Central to the core of that is this implicit statement, "Look, dude, I have to live in this community, too. I really don't want everyone coming up to me and talking about the pot roast I burnt the other night, or knowing our intimate private little habits." I don't want to worry or wonder with each conversation I have with you whether it is just between us, or if it is going to be shared with a large group of people on Sunday morning. It is a fair and reasonable request.
It doesn't take a reader of The Bloggess very long to feel tremendous compassion for Victor, and to think that he must have incredible patience. I imagine she takes SOME artistic license when she describes their conversations, but either way, even though she doesn't necessarily try to portray him as a saint, you can see from her writing that he is.
And I do imagine there are conversations between them, probably simply ending with Victor saying, "You're going to put this on your blog, aren't you?" and Jenny replying "You bet sweet Juanita's ass I am".
But even though you've never met the man, you can't help but fall in love a little with him given that he seems to be a truly incredible man.
Now if I wrote you about my girl, I know you would feel the same. She is incredible, sweet, wonderful. She always knows just the right things to say. She gets me. She truly does. It amazes me. She amazes me.
I'd love to write you all about my girl. I'd love to tell you about these moments of silliness I have from time to time, and how wonderfully she responds. I'd love to tell you about how despite the fact that it should, my ADD doesn't daunt her. How kindly she responds, how well she holds up against my friends, how strong and courageous she is. How sweet and loving and warm and affectionate she is. I'd love to share various vignettes that now fill my memory of moments we have shared.
But she is a private person. She protects her digital footprint. She's cautious about what might be posted about her online. And while she does love social media, she nonetheless maintains very clear distinct boundaries about what she shares. Boundaries that we have already blurred together, admittedly. But it is one thing for her to make a clear choice, a deliberated choice, I will post x in y place; and a completely different thing for me to make such a choice for her - particularly without consulting her.
So I found myself lost, sometimes, when it comes to writing new posts, because the things I want to share most, I want to keep between ourselves. I can safely speak generically about how much I love her laugh, but to tell you about what she says that makes me laugh would be too much. And how much do you really want to hear me gloss on and on about how beautiful she is, and how she makes my breath catch? There's only so much of that...
I can say this, though. When someone truly loves you, all she wants is your happiness. Don't settle for anyone who wants less than that. My girl makes me very happy!!
It doesn't take a reader of The Bloggess very long to feel tremendous compassion for Victor, and to think that he must have incredible patience. I imagine she takes SOME artistic license when she describes their conversations, but either way, even though she doesn't necessarily try to portray him as a saint, you can see from her writing that he is.
And I do imagine there are conversations between them, probably simply ending with Victor saying, "You're going to put this on your blog, aren't you?" and Jenny replying "You bet sweet Juanita's ass I am".
But even though you've never met the man, you can't help but fall in love a little with him given that he seems to be a truly incredible man.
Now if I wrote you about my girl, I know you would feel the same. She is incredible, sweet, wonderful. She always knows just the right things to say. She gets me. She truly does. It amazes me. She amazes me.
I'd love to write you all about my girl. I'd love to tell you about these moments of silliness I have from time to time, and how wonderfully she responds. I'd love to tell you about how despite the fact that it should, my ADD doesn't daunt her. How kindly she responds, how well she holds up against my friends, how strong and courageous she is. How sweet and loving and warm and affectionate she is. I'd love to share various vignettes that now fill my memory of moments we have shared.
But she is a private person. She protects her digital footprint. She's cautious about what might be posted about her online. And while she does love social media, she nonetheless maintains very clear distinct boundaries about what she shares. Boundaries that we have already blurred together, admittedly. But it is one thing for her to make a clear choice, a deliberated choice, I will post x in y place; and a completely different thing for me to make such a choice for her - particularly without consulting her.
So I found myself lost, sometimes, when it comes to writing new posts, because the things I want to share most, I want to keep between ourselves. I can safely speak generically about how much I love her laugh, but to tell you about what she says that makes me laugh would be too much. And how much do you really want to hear me gloss on and on about how beautiful she is, and how she makes my breath catch? There's only so much of that...
I can say this, though. When someone truly loves you, all she wants is your happiness. Don't settle for anyone who wants less than that. My girl makes me very happy!!
Thursday, January 10, 2013
My Biggest Fan
My
She will now learn that if she doesn't provide me with ideas, then I will write about her. ;)
Actually, I know better than that. One of my good friends is the wife of a priest, and long ago she shared with me one of her favorite videos - a parody off of Carrie Underwood's Before He Cheats, called Before He Speaks. It's a lesson learning video about what will happen to the priest who mentions his wife or uses his wife in his sermons. It's quite amusing.
So, I know better than to do that. But it seems lately that if you take away my girl as a topic of conversation, I am left with little else to talk about.
And that doesn't quite seem right. Certainly I had plenty of
Okay. Hmm... Maybe I was a wonder and a sensation only in my head? Maybe you all were just kind and took pity on me? No, that can't be it.
But I was just reading The Bloggess' Let's Pretend This Never Happened over dinner this evening, and in the chapter I was reading, she's writing about her generalized anxiety disorder, and how it makes her tell the story during dinner parties of how she swallowed a needle, or think she swallowed a needle, and how her conversational skills degenerate from there. And I would never want to belittle her experience, but suddenly, I wonder, if I've lost the art of conversation, or the art of the blog post?
Nah.
This morning, I was reading Dear Abby (again? Can you believe it? It's like she writes a column every day or something.. She'd make a great blogger! *wink!*) and actually I was quite struck by the advice written in by readers about how to have long term successful relationships in response to a letter published in October.
The text of today's column is pasted below.. And I admit, while embarking upon a new relationship, it seemed like there was some sound advice in there for me to remember. And since I talk about relationships here so frequently, I thought I'd share some of the parts that struck me most:
Love isn't just a feeling, but a choice and a commitment. I'm committed to my husband not because I'm "supposed" to be, but because I choose to be.
I do firmly believe that I never want someone to be with me because they feel obligated to do so. That's not a reason to be together. I want them to choose to be with me, not feel stuck, even if I tease my girlfriend that she's now "stuck" with me. It is a choice we make each day. And so far, it's seemed like a fairly easy choice. And fortunately, whenever I do tease her, she always responds with the right answer: "I'm not stuck with you. I can dump your ass any day." (so not true, she is MUCH nicer than that, but doesn't that make her SOUND bad-ass?)
We're told that marriage is 50-50. That's not true. It's 100-100. I'm responsible for my 100 percent, and my spouse is responsible for his.
I think it is easy for people within a relationship to begin to keep a score-card. But I think what each person brings to a relationship is often not easily quantifiable, not easily measurable. I think - or how I choose to read this - is that we are each responsible for bringing 100% of ourselves to the relationship. Simply having someone to share life with doesn't mean that we have less responsibility for our lives, it just means that our load is lighter because we are carrying it together.
Loving feelings come from loving behavior, not the other way around.
I have a mixed response to this one. Mostly because I am in the early hormonal throes of my relationship. I feel that my behavior is an expression of my loving feelings. And I certainly hope that this is the way I feel for the life of our relationship - for our lives shared together.
But I have been in relationships gone sour, and I think this sentence applies to those who are having a hard time. That while you might not be feeling loving towards your spouse, if you treat him or her in a loving manner, you'll regenerate the loving feelings that belong underneath it. If you treat me in a loving manner, it is hard for me to remain angry or hurt. You repair what damage might have been done, and in the process, remind yourself and your spouse of what it was like when those loving feelings were closer to the surface. And I think that is illustrated in the last comment, here:
A wise therapist advised me to compliment my husband at least once a day. ("If you act happy, pretty soon it won't be an act.")
For me, I am actually happy. It's not an act.
But the lesson from today's column is that it is important for ANYONE in the beginning hummm of a new relationship to remember that sometimes relationships will require work, and they do require commitment. It is easy to believe the hormonal rush that leads you to believe your love can do nothing wrong will never end. And, hopefully, it won't. But even if it does, it is important to remember and to build upon the true love and caring feelings you have for your romantic partner, because those will take you through some of the more "complicated" / difficult times you may face together.
Remember to value your partner every day. Make a conscious choice to be in your relationship. And let your partner know he or she is special. Every day. It's the only way to build a solid foundation that can withstand whatever life may throw at you. And always hold hands to get through that together.
DEAR ABBY: This is in response to "Had It in Hartford" (Oct. 6), who
has been unhappily married to her husband for 20 years. She said she
married him for all the wrong reasons and "has never loved him the way
a woman should love a man."
After I had been married for seven years, I went to my pastor concerned
that the grass on the other side was looking greener than mine. As we
spoke, I began to realize the extent of the investment I had put into
my marriage and that I didn't want to start over again on a new one.
My mom always told me, "Marriage is not easy. You will always have to
work on it. There will be times when you won't feel that you like him
or love him." I have been married for 36 years now. Do I notice
handsome men, or appreciate a man who treats me kindly? Of course. I'm
not blind or dead.
Love isn't just a feeling, but a choice and a commitment. I'm committed
to my husband not because I'm "supposed" to be, but because I choose to
be. It seems to me that "Had It" never made that choice or worked
toward it, but expected it to just happen eventually.
She has a foundation of trust and friendship that helps a marriage
through the rough times. Many marriages that end in divorce rely on
sexual attraction and passion to carry them instead of friendship.
We're told that marriage is 50-50. That's not true. It's 100-100. I'm
responsible for my 100 percent, and my spouse is responsible for his.
"Had It" should take another look at what she's about to lose and tally
up the costs to her family. Is she really trapped? Or has she just been
unwilling to choose to love? -- BARBARA IN MOUNT VERNON, WASH.
DEAR BARBARA: Thank you for writing. I advised "Had It" to think long
and hard before leaving her husband, but that if she truly cannot love
him the way he deserves, she should move on. My readers' comments:
DEAR ABBY: "Had It" doesn't feel love toward her husband because she
spends her time and energy ruminating about a "mistake" she thinks she
made 20 years ago. She says he is doing everything right and they get
along fine. If she tried something positive, like reminding herself
about the qualities she likes about him, and doing things she knows
make him happy instead of fantasizing about other men, she might find
the love she craves in her marriage.
Loving feelings come from loving behavior, not the other way around.
The sooner she realizes this, the sooner she'll see that what she
really wants is right there at home with her family. And it has been
there all along. -- DR. PEGGY B.
DEAR ABBY: I have this message for "Had It": I felt like you and acted
on my feelings. Don't do it! Wait until your kids are older. As much as
you want a more intimate relationship, you cannot begin to imagine the
impact straying will have on your kids.
I deeply regret what I did and I wish someone would have told me what
I'm telling you. Pull yourself together. Think about your children,
extended family and friends. You are connected to others through your
husband, and once you pull your marriage apart, everything else falls
away, too. -- REGRETTING IT IN NEW YORK
DEAR ABBY: "Had It" is probably suffering from a case of the seven-year
itch. For some reason, people cycle in seven-year increments. Some of
them change jobs or homes, others have affairs or change spouses. She
should work through it with a counselor.
There is a lot to be said for being married to your best friend. A wise
therapist advised me to compliment my husband at least once a day. ("If
you act happy, pretty soon it won't be an act.") This was after my
first bout with the "itch" and it has been working ever since, 29
years! -- LOVING AND LAUGHING WITH MY BEST FRIEND
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Darwin...
Every once in awhile I listen to what "they" say, but I do so with a grain of salt. Because it makes "they" taste better. No, wait, that's not it...
There are a lot of theories out there about what makes people healthy and happy and prosperous and successful and whatever other good and positive adjective you might come up with.
But really, that's often all that they are - theories. Hypotheses to be tested.
As I have entered into a new relationship - ready or not - I contemplate a lot about what "they" say, and whether, actually, I am ready or not, and if it makes a difference.
Because I'll tell you something. My lady-friend (I actually hate that term, but for some reason, it seems to fit literally (as in style, not actually) in this next sentence...) My lady friend would tell you it doesn't make a difference because we belong together, and that is just that. And I'd agree with her.
So, it doesn't make a difference.
BUT... that doesn't mean it isn't fun to ponder, does it? (And yes, my lady friend might chirp in here that I need to be careful not to borrow trouble.. even if I intend to give it back)
So these "theories"...
Things like being able to be self-sustaining. About it being wrong to "need" someone else. About being a perfectly healthy complete individual before EVER contemplating a relationship.
Yeah, that kinda of bull-hockey (to quote Colonel Potter).
My lady-friend has actually read a considerable amount of my blog, including some of my particularly vulnerable posts. So, she has a pretty good idea of what she's getting into here with me. She's seen some of the baggage that I carry and that I've spent a good deal of this past year and the past three and a half years trying to unload. She knows that my ADD can cripple me at times. She knows that in some objective (ha) standard that I am not "perfect", and yet, she believes that I am perfect for her.
So what do I care what "they" say?
Frankly, for the most part, I don't.
I was thinking, though, while eating my fried eggs for "breakfast" (at 3:30ish PM) about Darwin. And I think one of the reasons that our species has managed to survive, frankly, is that we DO work together. That we are not simply out there as lone wolves trying to do everything ourselves. That the division of labor - whether it was sexist or not - was so that we could do what we needed TOGETHER to thrive and move forward. That it's a lot for each of us to go out, kill the meal, gather the fruits and grains, prepare the meal AND clean up afterwards. That it is easier for us to thrive and to have time to do more than just survive if we do it together.
Because if you'll recall from my past posts, one of my goals this past year is to move beyond just surviving, and move into thriving. And I just don't think it's easy for us to do that alone. Perhaps it is possible. But that's a lot of work for a single person to do all by themselves.
So, even if you don't believe in all the religious crap that God intended us to be in pairs, and such, even just the basic theory of survival suggests, nay, seems to require, that we work together. That we be together.
So, .. if I were to listen, closely, to what "they" say, it seems quite clear that "they" say we should be together. Because it is much easier to do this together, than to do this alone. And I feel blessed to have found someone who wants to do this with me.
Happy New Year, folks! May 2013 be full of blessings and happiness! Let's work together. After all, we are a collective. Resistance is futile. ;) If you've learned nothing this year, as loyal readers, you should have learned that.. ;)
There are a lot of theories out there about what makes people healthy and happy and prosperous and successful and whatever other good and positive adjective you might come up with.
But really, that's often all that they are - theories. Hypotheses to be tested.
As I have entered into a new relationship - ready or not - I contemplate a lot about what "they" say, and whether, actually, I am ready or not, and if it makes a difference.
Because I'll tell you something. My lady-friend (I actually hate that term, but for some reason, it seems to fit literally (as in style, not actually) in this next sentence...) My lady friend would tell you it doesn't make a difference because we belong together, and that is just that. And I'd agree with her.
So, it doesn't make a difference.
BUT... that doesn't mean it isn't fun to ponder, does it? (And yes, my lady friend might chirp in here that I need to be careful not to borrow trouble.. even if I intend to give it back)
So these "theories"...
Things like being able to be self-sustaining. About it being wrong to "need" someone else. About being a perfectly healthy complete individual before EVER contemplating a relationship.
Yeah, that kinda of bull-hockey (to quote Colonel Potter).
My lady-friend has actually read a considerable amount of my blog, including some of my particularly vulnerable posts. So, she has a pretty good idea of what she's getting into here with me. She's seen some of the baggage that I carry and that I've spent a good deal of this past year and the past three and a half years trying to unload. She knows that my ADD can cripple me at times. She knows that in some objective (ha) standard that I am not "perfect", and yet, she believes that I am perfect for her.
So what do I care what "they" say?
Frankly, for the most part, I don't.
I was thinking, though, while eating my fried eggs for "breakfast" (at 3:30ish PM) about Darwin. And I think one of the reasons that our species has managed to survive, frankly, is that we DO work together. That we are not simply out there as lone wolves trying to do everything ourselves. That the division of labor - whether it was sexist or not - was so that we could do what we needed TOGETHER to thrive and move forward. That it's a lot for each of us to go out, kill the meal, gather the fruits and grains, prepare the meal AND clean up afterwards. That it is easier for us to thrive and to have time to do more than just survive if we do it together.
Because if you'll recall from my past posts, one of my goals this past year is to move beyond just surviving, and move into thriving. And I just don't think it's easy for us to do that alone. Perhaps it is possible. But that's a lot of work for a single person to do all by themselves.
So, even if you don't believe in all the religious crap that God intended us to be in pairs, and such, even just the basic theory of survival suggests, nay, seems to require, that we work together. That we be together.
So, .. if I were to listen, closely, to what "they" say, it seems quite clear that "they" say we should be together. Because it is much easier to do this together, than to do this alone. And I feel blessed to have found someone who wants to do this with me.
Happy New Year, folks! May 2013 be full of blessings and happiness! Let's work together. After all, we are a collective. Resistance is futile. ;) If you've learned nothing this year, as loyal readers, you should have learned that.. ;)
Monday, December 31, 2012
Requirements
So a little over a year ago, I began composing a list of "requirements" for a potential romantic partner. A reminder, before putting on the hormone-goggles, of what is important to me in a relationship and in a person I want to share even just a part of my life with.
The good news - and not the subject of this blog post - is that my new love not only meets, but she exceeds these requirements. By far! In fact, every once in awhile she'll do something surprising that makes me say, "Y'know, that should have been on my list, too..."
But she is not what this post is about.
The list was a combination of practical matters, values, and attitudes towards life. In hindsight some of the "practical matters" were really just examples of a larger quality - an ability to be flexible, for example, rather than rigid specific requirements in and of themselves.
But one of the qualities I am beginning to realize I need from more than just my romantic partner.
I recognize we all feel blue sometimes - I felt depressed for a considerable amount of the last three and a half years - and we all have things that don't go the way that we'd like. We all have room for complaint. But what I need in my life, and need to surround myself, are people who have room for happiness. This doesn't mean someone who is bubbly and happy all the time - because let's face it, often those people we want to shoot* - but someone who despite everything that might seem to go wrong, will still allow themselves to be happy. To recognize life's blessings and be grateful for what he or she has and not simply what might seem to be missing.
I want the people I care about to experience happiness - I want them to just be happy - but I recognize that while I can make someone happy (for a moment), as a general rule, I can't if they won't allow themselves to be. I spent too much time and energy trying to create an environment in which the ex-wife could feel happy and secure, but it never worked because she wouldn't allow herself to be happy.
The great news is that my new love allows herself to be happy. In fact she's currently one of those bubbly people who is happy all the time! And I love that about her. It isn't that her life is perfect - from an objective standpoint, it's not, she has challenges - but she is happy with what she has, and that makes it perfect. I am very blessed. Having someone to share my life with who can allow themselves to be happy is essential for me.
And now, I have come to realize, it is essential to me for more than just my romantic partner. It is also important for me to see and have in the people with whom I surround myself. You can whine, you can cry on my shoulder, you can be having a crappy time of it in life and tell me about it. But if you can't also accept the inverse, the possibility of being happy, the possibility of being blessed, of noticing that the cup isn't JUST half empty, then I am going to start to keep my distance from you. I don't need you to be happy all the time. I don't need you to be happy. But I need you to recognize the possibility of happy - and if you can't, you have my compassion, you can have my time during crisis, but you can't have my continued presence on a regular basis in your life. I need more from you. You should want more for you. And until then... I wish you only the best.
If I were to have a resolution, I guess, for the New Year, this would be it.. to surround myself with people who allow for the possibility of being happy.
* I admit in light of current events, this is perhaps not the most sensitive expression, and yet... I mean it is as an expression, not as any literal desire or interest in TRULY ...
The good news - and not the subject of this blog post - is that my new love not only meets, but she exceeds these requirements. By far! In fact, every once in awhile she'll do something surprising that makes me say, "Y'know, that should have been on my list, too..."
But she is not what this post is about.
The list was a combination of practical matters, values, and attitudes towards life. In hindsight some of the "practical matters" were really just examples of a larger quality - an ability to be flexible, for example, rather than rigid specific requirements in and of themselves.
But one of the qualities I am beginning to realize I need from more than just my romantic partner.
I recognize we all feel blue sometimes - I felt depressed for a considerable amount of the last three and a half years - and we all have things that don't go the way that we'd like. We all have room for complaint. But what I need in my life, and need to surround myself, are people who have room for happiness. This doesn't mean someone who is bubbly and happy all the time - because let's face it, often those people we want to shoot* - but someone who despite everything that might seem to go wrong, will still allow themselves to be happy. To recognize life's blessings and be grateful for what he or she has and not simply what might seem to be missing.
I want the people I care about to experience happiness - I want them to just be happy - but I recognize that while I can make someone happy (for a moment), as a general rule, I can't if they won't allow themselves to be. I spent too much time and energy trying to create an environment in which the ex-wife could feel happy and secure, but it never worked because she wouldn't allow herself to be happy.
The great news is that my new love allows herself to be happy. In fact she's currently one of those bubbly people who is happy all the time! And I love that about her. It isn't that her life is perfect - from an objective standpoint, it's not, she has challenges - but she is happy with what she has, and that makes it perfect. I am very blessed. Having someone to share my life with who can allow themselves to be happy is essential for me.
And now, I have come to realize, it is essential to me for more than just my romantic partner. It is also important for me to see and have in the people with whom I surround myself. You can whine, you can cry on my shoulder, you can be having a crappy time of it in life and tell me about it. But if you can't also accept the inverse, the possibility of being happy, the possibility of being blessed, of noticing that the cup isn't JUST half empty, then I am going to start to keep my distance from you. I don't need you to be happy all the time. I don't need you to be happy. But I need you to recognize the possibility of happy - and if you can't, you have my compassion, you can have my time during crisis, but you can't have my continued presence on a regular basis in your life. I need more from you. You should want more for you. And until then... I wish you only the best.
If I were to have a resolution, I guess, for the New Year, this would be it.. to surround myself with people who allow for the possibility of being happy.
* I admit in light of current events, this is perhaps not the most sensitive expression, and yet... I mean it is as an expression, not as any literal desire or interest in TRULY ...
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Love Letters...
There comes a point in a relationship when you begin to develop your own language.. your own inside jokes.. your own words that have their own meaning.
And it is then, apparently, that you can write marvelous public love letters without anyone else necessarily suspecting a thing...
This morning, apparently, I am in the love letter writing mood....
I will NOT share our language with you...
But I know that everywhere she looks, she will find my love letters to her...
I spread them like bread crumbs, and she for me...
Even this silly blog entry, we both know, is a love letter...
As she would say, I'm a goof. And as I would say to her, "I am - but I am YOUR goof"...
You may now gag and resume your regular activities now... ;)
And it is then, apparently, that you can write marvelous public love letters without anyone else necessarily suspecting a thing...
This morning, apparently, I am in the love letter writing mood....
I will NOT share our language with you...
But I know that everywhere she looks, she will find my love letters to her...
I spread them like bread crumbs, and she for me...
Even this silly blog entry, we both know, is a love letter...
As she would say, I'm a goof. And as I would say to her, "I am - but I am YOUR goof"...
You may now gag and resume your regular activities now... ;)
To The Hostess with the Mostest
A true bonafide text conversation last night:
Her: You going to #wineparty?
Me: No.
Me: You?
Her: Nope
Me: Didn't think so...
Her: I found my soul at that party.
Her: That was its purpose.
Me: Yep. Me, too!
Her: I almost wanna tell Kit
It's been awhile since I've been on #wineparty. But I must take a moment to thank our hostess for introducing me to a wonderful woman, with whom I have fallen deeply in love, and she with me. Consider this our #wineparty confession...
Her: You going to #wineparty?
Me: No.
Me: You?
Her: Nope
Me: Didn't think so...
Her: I found my soul at that party.
Her: That was its purpose.
Me: Yep. Me, too!
Her: I almost wanna tell Kit
It's been awhile since I've been on #wineparty. But I must take a moment to thank our hostess for introducing me to a wonderful woman, with whom I have fallen deeply in love, and she with me. Consider this our #wineparty confession...
Energy....
There is an energy that exists amongst us all, at varying levels, connecting us to each other. Whether it's the spirits of souls who have passed, God, or some other technological explanation, I firmly believe there is an energy which connects each of us.
And I think that love acts as a magnifier, an enhancer. That when you love someone, the energy becomes stronger, clearer, and connects you even further.. magnifying the energy, and magnifying the love.
It's that connection you hear about between twins... That feeling you get when something happens to your other half.
It is that connection that gives you that nudge sometimes to reach out to someone you may not have reached out to in awhile.
My 77-year old significant other, for example, went into the hospital the day before Christmas eve. Her asthma was bothering her more, and it turned out she had pneumonia. There we were waiting in the ER that Sunday afternoon for them to prepare her room to check her in, and her cell phone rings. It's a friend, Nancy, whom she hadn't heard from in awhile, and even after they got off the phone, she kept remarking how ironic the timing was for Nancy to have called. How dear a friend she's been, and how great it was to receive her call.
Somewhere that energy was at work between the two of them. Somehow, Nancy got the message and knew to reach out and just that moment.
Now I'm not saying it always works all the time. But I do think it exists. I do think we need to listen, sometimes, to those little messages we get. And take time to reconnect with those whom our energy still connects us.
And I think that love acts as a magnifier, an enhancer. That when you love someone, the energy becomes stronger, clearer, and connects you even further.. magnifying the energy, and magnifying the love.
It's that connection you hear about between twins... That feeling you get when something happens to your other half.
It is that connection that gives you that nudge sometimes to reach out to someone you may not have reached out to in awhile.
My 77-year old significant other, for example, went into the hospital the day before Christmas eve. Her asthma was bothering her more, and it turned out she had pneumonia. There we were waiting in the ER that Sunday afternoon for them to prepare her room to check her in, and her cell phone rings. It's a friend, Nancy, whom she hadn't heard from in awhile, and even after they got off the phone, she kept remarking how ironic the timing was for Nancy to have called. How dear a friend she's been, and how great it was to receive her call.
Somewhere that energy was at work between the two of them. Somehow, Nancy got the message and knew to reach out and just that moment.
Now I'm not saying it always works all the time. But I do think it exists. I do think we need to listen, sometimes, to those little messages we get. And take time to reconnect with those whom our energy still connects us.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Priorities Change
DISCLOSURE: The only thing I have going in on this post is the title.. I have no idea where this will go, so buckle up and enjoy the ride.
Sometimes in life, certain things will happen that will make you see things - perhaps everything - in a different light. Suddenly make you realize that things you thought were important aren't, and perhaps make you value things you didn't realize were important, even more.
If you're lucky, this change in perspective is something that reflects even more accurately the true you - the you that you have been becoming or trying to be.
It can be an amazing epiphany.
Whether you've had or are having a life changing moment, the reality is that all the moments of your life have led you to this one. And this moment will lead you to another one. You can't help it - it's what happens. It's life. And you can let these moments just pass you by, or you can - in the spirit of the Dead Poets' Society - seize the day. Carpe diem..
Enjoy where you're at. Enjoy what has made you you. Celebrate yourself.
And if you're reading this right now and you don't feel like you can do that, well... first, *hugs*. Second, do something to change that. Change what's making you miserable. Change what you value. Really look at what is important, and focus on that - value that. If it brings you unhappiness, if it turns you away from others, from experiencing the joy in life, then maybe - just maybe - it's not that important.
The Dalai Lama says that the Art of Happiness is finding those things in life that bring you joy and maximizing them. And "things" frankly is the wrong word, because I'll tell you people, things don't bring you happiness. They might bring you comfort, or amusement, but things never, never bring happiness.
My life has taken a significant change lately. My perspective has a tremendously different shift. And I am happy.
May you all be so blessed.
P.S. I turned 42 on Saturday. And I have joked for nearly 30 years probably that 42 is the answer to everything from Doug Adams The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which I've never read. So as I approached this birthday, I kept feeling - down in my bones, perhaps, or just joking at the surface, who knows - but I kept telling folks that I was looking forward to 42 because it was the answer to everything. And you know, when I turned 42 - the minute I was 42 - I, indeed, had the answer to everything.
It is amazing.
Sometimes in life, certain things will happen that will make you see things - perhaps everything - in a different light. Suddenly make you realize that things you thought were important aren't, and perhaps make you value things you didn't realize were important, even more.
If you're lucky, this change in perspective is something that reflects even more accurately the true you - the you that you have been becoming or trying to be.
It can be an amazing epiphany.
Whether you've had or are having a life changing moment, the reality is that all the moments of your life have led you to this one. And this moment will lead you to another one. You can't help it - it's what happens. It's life. And you can let these moments just pass you by, or you can - in the spirit of the Dead Poets' Society - seize the day. Carpe diem..
Enjoy where you're at. Enjoy what has made you you. Celebrate yourself.
And if you're reading this right now and you don't feel like you can do that, well... first, *hugs*. Second, do something to change that. Change what's making you miserable. Change what you value. Really look at what is important, and focus on that - value that. If it brings you unhappiness, if it turns you away from others, from experiencing the joy in life, then maybe - just maybe - it's not that important.
The Dalai Lama says that the Art of Happiness is finding those things in life that bring you joy and maximizing them. And "things" frankly is the wrong word, because I'll tell you people, things don't bring you happiness. They might bring you comfort, or amusement, but things never, never bring happiness.
My life has taken a significant change lately. My perspective has a tremendously different shift. And I am happy.
May you all be so blessed.
P.S. I turned 42 on Saturday. And I have joked for nearly 30 years probably that 42 is the answer to everything from Doug Adams The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which I've never read. So as I approached this birthday, I kept feeling - down in my bones, perhaps, or just joking at the surface, who knows - but I kept telling folks that I was looking forward to 42 because it was the answer to everything. And you know, when I turned 42 - the minute I was 42 - I, indeed, had the answer to everything.
It is amazing.
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