Poverty sucks.
That's pretty much all that's on my mind. Going to the bank soon and getting groceries and trying to figure out how to squeeze more into my savings account than I already am is a challenge. But I'll do it. I always figure out a way to get everyone paid. It's just that this year, I don't think I'll honestly make it paying Uncle Sam all I owe him, in time. And I hate the thought of owing back taxes. Even if it's only few thousand dollars, I know it could be a lot worse. So in the middle of all my worries about money, I try to look at what I'm thankful for.
I'm thankful for my kids and my friends that check on me and miss me enough to reach out and just tell me good morning and want to know what's going on with me. Mr. Hopeful woke me up yesterday with a sweet message and we made plans to watch the Pro Bowl tonight. Mr. Practical and I got three episodes of Dr. Who in last night before the TV GOD NETFLIX removes it from our title selections FOREVER. Please reconsider....Netflix TV god....please renew the contract again for us. I hope they are monitoring the ratings this last weekend and realize how much ratings they will lose when this title is gone. She of Little Combat Boots and I found some time to catch up on her family and life. And a bit on mine. I left out sad goodbyes and only talked about financial worries. I wanted our time to be about her and her life. I miss her so much. Poet In My Heart has been so busy with work, and trying to cope with illness and both of the common variety and not so common that she's been very tired and or too busy to chat much, but that doesn't matter any more than it does with any of my friends, or family, because I know how much I'm missed and loved. And I know they know too. I miss my kids so much. I don't regret spending the money to see them at Christmas, and I'd do it again even owing taxes. Sometimes you have to put your life first.
Taxes.....I really hate them. I know technically they are unconstitutional, but I still pay them. Sometimes I wonder why. I was so shocked to learn that I still owe so much after paying quarterly that I looked up the percentages myself to make sure my tax person wasn't making a mistake. Which I guess I should have done last year, but trusted the program. Somehow I overpaid state and will get a small refund which I may elect to just leave and they can use it toward next year. The thought of owing back taxes scares the shit out of me. Isn't this how homeless starts with some people? I hope I have enough loved ones in my life that I would never be homeless. I'm pretty sure I do. But when you're scared, you think scary thoughts.
But enough of that. After coffee it's to the bank, and pay my rent and loan and save....I'll have to find some grocery money in there somewhere, but I will eat. Don't worry. And if I don't, well I have enough extra body fat for a couple of months before I start losing weight. Maybe that's all part of the grand plan to get me hot and gorgeous before my next romantic encounter. I wonder who the lucky guy will be? Maybe that's what I should write about next.
Cheers.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Forward Movement
I open my eyes.
I don't want to get out of bed.
I don't want to adult today.
I am tired.
I am lazy.
I am stressed.
I need food.
I need to go to the bank.
I need to file my taxes.
I need to get out more.
I should write.
I should color my hair.
I should walk away.
I can't walk away.
I can't stay in bed.
I open my eyes.
This is what anxiety sounds like in my head. A buzzing of voices telling me what to do, all with equal pulling toward movement of some kind. Movement forward is best. I've been moving backward for too many years now.
But forward used to be exciting to me. When I had a partner in crime. Now it's kind of scary. I guess that's my experience telling me to open my eyes and just keep walking. Keep trying and keep my head up. But
Sometimes I get really tired doing that. Especially alone. Its the only time I really feel being single. Is coming home from work and no one there waiting for me or for me to anticipate coming home. No one to share my day with. This is why my friends are so important to me. The ones that check in daily or every other day. You KNOW who you are. They are the ones that are either depressed and anxiety ridden too or they just care that much about me or both. YOU know who YOU are. I just wanted to take a moment to let you all understand how much I love you and how special you are to me. How my life would feel lacking without you in it. And none of you are near me, so this electric communication is all I have of you. My moments sharing tv shows, or chatting for hours about feelings, or life and what we did that day. Tiny little moments of wonderful connecting.
My internet life has become more real than my real life. Much more social than my real life. That seems both strange to me and somehow expected. And my bestie, Poet In My Heart wants me to go on an on line dating service. I'm hesitant. I know I need to move on in a physical sense from Mr. Hopeful, but as That Guy would say, "its not high on your list". And he'd be right. Perhaps some physical comfort would help my state of lonely, but that actually seems to pass rather quickly when I am outside in the world and actually see what's out there. Choices become very slim for women over 40. And I'm just not built for one night stands. I'm just not. I hate them. They never lead to anything. They don't have a story. And I'm a writer, I live for the story.
Truth be told, if I can't have Mr. Hopeful, I'm pretty content with my own company. I know that sounds like I'm giving up, but it really is just the truth. I understand why some women stay single now. It's not that they never loved its that they loved very well and their bar is set very high. And when you've had that kind of all encompassing arms enfolding you throughout the night dreaming together, emotion filled eyes that you'd do anything for, stress relieving voice at the end of the day, laughter that makes you happy to hear, and tears that destroy your resolve; well when you've had that you know what love that lasts feels like. And all of this can even be when you are fighting and seem at your furthest apart. Not just in the happy times when all is ok. They say love changes, and it does, but it doesn't too. When it's real it never does. Oh we might fake it and pretend that it has to save ourselves too much pain. Especially when our deepest loves are not the ones we snuggle against.
So love me and check on me, make a date to spend some time with me, and let me live my story.
Cheers
I don't want to get out of bed.
I don't want to adult today.
I am tired.
I am lazy.
I am stressed.
I need food.
I need to go to the bank.
I need to file my taxes.
I need to get out more.
I should write.
I should color my hair.
I should walk away.
I can't walk away.
I can't stay in bed.
I open my eyes.
This is what anxiety sounds like in my head. A buzzing of voices telling me what to do, all with equal pulling toward movement of some kind. Movement forward is best. I've been moving backward for too many years now.
But forward used to be exciting to me. When I had a partner in crime. Now it's kind of scary. I guess that's my experience telling me to open my eyes and just keep walking. Keep trying and keep my head up. But
Sometimes I get really tired doing that. Especially alone. Its the only time I really feel being single. Is coming home from work and no one there waiting for me or for me to anticipate coming home. No one to share my day with. This is why my friends are so important to me. The ones that check in daily or every other day. You KNOW who you are. They are the ones that are either depressed and anxiety ridden too or they just care that much about me or both. YOU know who YOU are. I just wanted to take a moment to let you all understand how much I love you and how special you are to me. How my life would feel lacking without you in it. And none of you are near me, so this electric communication is all I have of you. My moments sharing tv shows, or chatting for hours about feelings, or life and what we did that day. Tiny little moments of wonderful connecting.
My internet life has become more real than my real life. Much more social than my real life. That seems both strange to me and somehow expected. And my bestie, Poet In My Heart wants me to go on an on line dating service. I'm hesitant. I know I need to move on in a physical sense from Mr. Hopeful, but as That Guy would say, "its not high on your list". And he'd be right. Perhaps some physical comfort would help my state of lonely, but that actually seems to pass rather quickly when I am outside in the world and actually see what's out there. Choices become very slim for women over 40. And I'm just not built for one night stands. I'm just not. I hate them. They never lead to anything. They don't have a story. And I'm a writer, I live for the story.
Truth be told, if I can't have Mr. Hopeful, I'm pretty content with my own company. I know that sounds like I'm giving up, but it really is just the truth. I understand why some women stay single now. It's not that they never loved its that they loved very well and their bar is set very high. And when you've had that kind of all encompassing arms enfolding you throughout the night dreaming together, emotion filled eyes that you'd do anything for, stress relieving voice at the end of the day, laughter that makes you happy to hear, and tears that destroy your resolve; well when you've had that you know what love that lasts feels like. And all of this can even be when you are fighting and seem at your furthest apart. Not just in the happy times when all is ok. They say love changes, and it does, but it doesn't too. When it's real it never does. Oh we might fake it and pretend that it has to save ourselves too much pain. Especially when our deepest loves are not the ones we snuggle against.
So love me and check on me, make a date to spend some time with me, and let me live my story.
Cheers
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Hermit Mode Has Kidnapped Me
Well that didn't work the way I wanted it to, but that's ok we move on, we don't sit and wallow. It's funny but it doesn't feel like wallowing when there is no on to see you feeling down. I don't know what's wrong, but I keep hearing myself say one more day, and then back to normal. One more day of feeling blah, and then pop back, right with the world. Why do I always sound British in my mind when I'm trying to give myself a pep talk? Probably from all that Doctor Who.
Ok so lets talk about what has gone right. Lets see, Mr. Hopeful and I have started watching Football together. Its fun. More fun that football alone, and I really did have fun watching with him over the Internets last night. And will again today. It seems like he's serious in wanting to try on friendship with me. And I asked for this so it better be what I want. Or at least what I need. Lets focus on what I need.
Mr. Practicle and I managed to get in a couple of Dr. Who long distance and on a two week period where I promised I'd leave him alone to write. But in fairness I only reached out for advice once he reached out the other time. So I've been good when I needed to talk. And I'm proud of that. Maybe more Doctor Who soon. I wanted to write, I felt it coming on, the characters yammering inside my head. But the numbness took over, and when that is in me, there is nothing else. Hermit mode.
The Poet In My Heart has had an incredibly busy week and I miss her company. I miss hearing about her day to day. It makes me feel more centered to understand that she's going through the same types of daily bullshit that I am. Or have.
And I've been thinking about She of Little Combat Boots and her family a lot, and missing them.
That Guy seems to only contact me right before gaming or not for weeks, and I miss his insight.
But I'm sitting here in my internest, knowing I have to go out and get laundry change so I can do some laundry today or tomorrow, and knowing that I haven't left my internest since Wednesday and I can already hear myself talking myself out of going. It's so cozy, especially when you add how cold it is outside and how nothing ever hurts me here. Well that's not entirely true. Not anymore. So I tried to fight it, and now I'm self medicating and that's not working, but I don't stop because I don't see a reason to stop. And it feels good, so the hippie in my soul says, relax, chill, one more day. The gypsy in me says get up and get one thing done outside. Don't stay in hermit mode until Tuesday. That's five days, and while a couple of those days I was feeling a little sick and headachy, certainly not well enough to be at work, but not sick enough to be in bed, that on the border sick where you know you're contagious but most of us go to work anyway. Well this time i decided not to. This time i decided my health was more important. It should always be, but I admit that I've gone to work sick before, I bet you have too.
Why don't we think of ourselves first all the time? I mean why are we so considerate of others feelings first? Too nurturing. I give of myself hoping someone will give back to me. But I find myself always filling others cups and mine is still empty. I've been trying to figure out whats wrong with me, why I still feel so blue, when the time for this has long passed. I've never been one to feel sorry for myself. But I think that may be what I'm doing. And I hate myself for it. I need a distraction, but I don't want to leave my apartment. Netflix is my company. If I could get a company to deliver me change, I'd call them. LOL no seriously, I'd call them. I think the problem is that I don't know what the problem is. I know I need to talk about something but I don't know what it is. I have five good friends and a two children I could call and talk with anytime. But I don't pick up the phone. The thing about depression is that when you have it you are scared to reach out to your friends, even though you know you need to.
Why am I so afraid to talk? Why am I so afraid of what I'm feeling? And why can't I put it into words? The more I think on it the closer I'll come to the truth. I will finish coffee and I will go outside. And I will not stay in this comfortable cage all day. At least it's clean.
Cheers
Ok so lets talk about what has gone right. Lets see, Mr. Hopeful and I have started watching Football together. Its fun. More fun that football alone, and I really did have fun watching with him over the Internets last night. And will again today. It seems like he's serious in wanting to try on friendship with me. And I asked for this so it better be what I want. Or at least what I need. Lets focus on what I need.
Mr. Practicle and I managed to get in a couple of Dr. Who long distance and on a two week period where I promised I'd leave him alone to write. But in fairness I only reached out for advice once he reached out the other time. So I've been good when I needed to talk. And I'm proud of that. Maybe more Doctor Who soon. I wanted to write, I felt it coming on, the characters yammering inside my head. But the numbness took over, and when that is in me, there is nothing else. Hermit mode.
The Poet In My Heart has had an incredibly busy week and I miss her company. I miss hearing about her day to day. It makes me feel more centered to understand that she's going through the same types of daily bullshit that I am. Or have.
And I've been thinking about She of Little Combat Boots and her family a lot, and missing them.
That Guy seems to only contact me right before gaming or not for weeks, and I miss his insight.
But I'm sitting here in my internest, knowing I have to go out and get laundry change so I can do some laundry today or tomorrow, and knowing that I haven't left my internest since Wednesday and I can already hear myself talking myself out of going. It's so cozy, especially when you add how cold it is outside and how nothing ever hurts me here. Well that's not entirely true. Not anymore. So I tried to fight it, and now I'm self medicating and that's not working, but I don't stop because I don't see a reason to stop. And it feels good, so the hippie in my soul says, relax, chill, one more day. The gypsy in me says get up and get one thing done outside. Don't stay in hermit mode until Tuesday. That's five days, and while a couple of those days I was feeling a little sick and headachy, certainly not well enough to be at work, but not sick enough to be in bed, that on the border sick where you know you're contagious but most of us go to work anyway. Well this time i decided not to. This time i decided my health was more important. It should always be, but I admit that I've gone to work sick before, I bet you have too.
Why don't we think of ourselves first all the time? I mean why are we so considerate of others feelings first? Too nurturing. I give of myself hoping someone will give back to me. But I find myself always filling others cups and mine is still empty. I've been trying to figure out whats wrong with me, why I still feel so blue, when the time for this has long passed. I've never been one to feel sorry for myself. But I think that may be what I'm doing. And I hate myself for it. I need a distraction, but I don't want to leave my apartment. Netflix is my company. If I could get a company to deliver me change, I'd call them. LOL no seriously, I'd call them. I think the problem is that I don't know what the problem is. I know I need to talk about something but I don't know what it is. I have five good friends and a two children I could call and talk with anytime. But I don't pick up the phone. The thing about depression is that when you have it you are scared to reach out to your friends, even though you know you need to.
Why am I so afraid to talk? Why am I so afraid of what I'm feeling? And why can't I put it into words? The more I think on it the closer I'll come to the truth. I will finish coffee and I will go outside. And I will not stay in this comfortable cage all day. At least it's clean.
Cheers
Sunday, January 10, 2016
A Time To Mourn, And A Time To Dance
I'm grieving this weekend. Giving myself time to mourn a loss. Something I don't do enough of. Give myself permission and time to mourn loss. Not me. I'm too strong for that shit. But, not this time. This time is too important. This time it's a long term companion that I walk away from.
So this weekend I hibernate and feel. This weekend everytime I think of him fondly I'll remember that was the play. That wasn't real, that was him playing you.
And now he tells me its because he can't disrespect me anymore, and he hopes I know that.
So here's where it gets really sticky.
That means that all the other times he was disrespecting me and I thought that he loved me. And now he can't disrespect me which means he loves and respects me the most right now, and I feel rejected and hurt and left.
Go figure.
Oh Geeves...more Baily's in my coffee please
I wish I had a real Geeves to get me things in my studio. But he'd have to be a miniature butler, and battery powered. Reminds me of the Dresdan Dolls song, "Coin Operated Boy". It's about a vibrator. Mr. Charisma thought it was the best song on a cd I made him once. That's when I knew his 'romantic style' was all part of the play. With Mr. Hopeful, I knew when he started sounding like Mr. Charisma and acting like him. Like his line last weekend, telling me he'd be right here, gaming, just let him know when I was finished with my blog. Mr. Charisma used to say that as he lay next to me on a Sunday morning. A time I used to think was very romantic and special and now I realize was probably the only available space in his busy, busy social calendar. That's when I knew that I'd become as important to Mr. Hopeful as I had to Mr. Charisma. And I basically was in shock last weekend as he walked out my door. As much as I have seen, I never saw that coming.
Tomorrow it stops. Tomorrow I go back to being strong. Tomorrow...oh jesus, the theatre person in me is torn between the song from Annie (Tomorrow Tomorrow) and Scarlet's famous line "Tomorrow is another day". And I smile because sometimes I do make myself laugh. And I think that having a sense of humor is the one thing that saves me from depression right now. Or maybe I've just learned enough coping skills to sneak around it. I don't know. But I really thought after how sad I was with Mr. Practical, and Mr. Charisma and I'd only known them 4 and 1 year respectively, that I'd be much more devastated with the loss of Mr. Hopeful. But I'm not. Maybe I'm just so numb right now that I can't feel anything.
Why are the biggest break ups for me always close or on a holiday?
Have you ever been living your life and thought, This is not my life, how did I get here. (Cue Talking Heads) Because I have, more times than I want to admit. But as I look out my window from my internest corner, that everyone seems to take over when they come visit, I know I am happy here. His visit only reminded me how smart I was to move. And a memory is all that's left for you now, you see your gypsy (Cue Fleetwood Mac)
I wonder if there is a special ring of hell sometimes for me.
Cheers
So this weekend I hibernate and feel. This weekend everytime I think of him fondly I'll remember that was the play. That wasn't real, that was him playing you.
And now he tells me its because he can't disrespect me anymore, and he hopes I know that.
So here's where it gets really sticky.
That means that all the other times he was disrespecting me and I thought that he loved me. And now he can't disrespect me which means he loves and respects me the most right now, and I feel rejected and hurt and left.
Go figure.
Oh Geeves...more Baily's in my coffee please
I wish I had a real Geeves to get me things in my studio. But he'd have to be a miniature butler, and battery powered. Reminds me of the Dresdan Dolls song, "Coin Operated Boy". It's about a vibrator. Mr. Charisma thought it was the best song on a cd I made him once. That's when I knew his 'romantic style' was all part of the play. With Mr. Hopeful, I knew when he started sounding like Mr. Charisma and acting like him. Like his line last weekend, telling me he'd be right here, gaming, just let him know when I was finished with my blog. Mr. Charisma used to say that as he lay next to me on a Sunday morning. A time I used to think was very romantic and special and now I realize was probably the only available space in his busy, busy social calendar. That's when I knew that I'd become as important to Mr. Hopeful as I had to Mr. Charisma. And I basically was in shock last weekend as he walked out my door. As much as I have seen, I never saw that coming.
Tomorrow it stops. Tomorrow I go back to being strong. Tomorrow...oh jesus, the theatre person in me is torn between the song from Annie (Tomorrow Tomorrow) and Scarlet's famous line "Tomorrow is another day". And I smile because sometimes I do make myself laugh. And I think that having a sense of humor is the one thing that saves me from depression right now. Or maybe I've just learned enough coping skills to sneak around it. I don't know. But I really thought after how sad I was with Mr. Practical, and Mr. Charisma and I'd only known them 4 and 1 year respectively, that I'd be much more devastated with the loss of Mr. Hopeful. But I'm not. Maybe I'm just so numb right now that I can't feel anything.
Why are the biggest break ups for me always close or on a holiday?
Have you ever been living your life and thought, This is not my life, how did I get here. (Cue Talking Heads) Because I have, more times than I want to admit. But as I look out my window from my internest corner, that everyone seems to take over when they come visit, I know I am happy here. His visit only reminded me how smart I was to move. And a memory is all that's left for you now, you see your gypsy (Cue Fleetwood Mac)
I wonder if there is a special ring of hell sometimes for me.
Cheers
Sunday, January 3, 2016
But, Wait a Minute...What?
It's one of those mornings where I was sure I knew what I was going to write about by late last night, and again at 3 am when I woke from a very accurate dream, it seems. One I remember now as having had before, but that's not what this blog is about.
It was going to be, but now it's about hearing something you have never heard from a man before, and didn't realize what was missing until you hear it. It's a phrase as different for each of us as we are different. But we all have one. Like in the movie Waiting to Exhale. Only that's not my phrase. Mine, it turns out is, "Don't worry, I'll be right here, gaming, just let me know when you're finished with your blog."
Wow. I had no snappy come back. I had no armor for that attack...
"Geeves..."
I had no defense for THAT memory...
Hold up a bit, its been a weekend of first steps down paths that, I believe, will take us further away from each other than we've ever been before, and at the same time, in many ways, closer.
I just have to write.
I have to revisit.
All the truths we held
All the attractions
Still there
So I should have listened to the dreams, I should have listened to my gut, I was right.
And yet, I've learned so much about myself in the last three days. I've surprised myself. Because I really have been one of the best representations of me, ever. And I know he sees it. And I know it's not enough. But we'll always have the internest. Hey...my play was almost right. Should have listened to my gut, but I wanted it to play like a comedy, instead of a tragedy. Which I feel, well, both. Which I suppose is the best you can ask for.
I'm a hopeless romantic that happens to be a closet realist. Fucks with my outlook. I see goodbyes so much sooner than most. If you are observant you'll see, I run when I see them. I go far enough to make it necessary to see me. And I'll forever miss you.
And I have way too much booze left over...
Cheers
It was going to be, but now it's about hearing something you have never heard from a man before, and didn't realize what was missing until you hear it. It's a phrase as different for each of us as we are different. But we all have one. Like in the movie Waiting to Exhale. Only that's not my phrase. Mine, it turns out is, "Don't worry, I'll be right here, gaming, just let me know when you're finished with your blog."
Wow. I had no snappy come back. I had no armor for that attack...
"Geeves..."
I had no defense for THAT memory...
Hold up a bit, its been a weekend of first steps down paths that, I believe, will take us further away from each other than we've ever been before, and at the same time, in many ways, closer.
I just have to write.
I have to revisit.
All the truths we held
All the attractions
Still there
So I should have listened to the dreams, I should have listened to my gut, I was right.
And yet, I've learned so much about myself in the last three days. I've surprised myself. Because I really have been one of the best representations of me, ever. And I know he sees it. And I know it's not enough. But we'll always have the internest. Hey...my play was almost right. Should have listened to my gut, but I wanted it to play like a comedy, instead of a tragedy. Which I feel, well, both. Which I suppose is the best you can ask for.
I'm a hopeless romantic that happens to be a closet realist. Fucks with my outlook. I see goodbyes so much sooner than most. If you are observant you'll see, I run when I see them. I go far enough to make it necessary to see me. And I'll forever miss you.
And I have way too much booze left over...
Cheers
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Christmas 2015 in LAX
It's been a year since I've been back here and nothing has really changed. Oh there are a few new construction projects, but on the whole, this town is stuck in the twilight zone. Opening presents in my hotel room on Christmas night was THE place to be. First Daughter and her man Husband In Everything Except The Paper, and First Son and his wife The Girl With No Plans and I surprised and delighted each other with the perfect gifts. There was wine and snacks and playing of Times Up until First Son had to go to work. We continued my favorite kind of get together, just talking together about our lives until it was time for everyone to get some sleep. First son came back after the news show was complete and took everyone away.
And I was happy, basking in the afterglow of so much love from my kids. The next morning First Daughter was up early to spend as much time with me as possible so I grabbed a taxi and we had a wonderful breakfast at The Breakfast Club and Pub. A new restaurant that has an 80's theme. SO of course I wanted to go. Great food and of course great prices. We did some window shopping. Stopped into Def Ear to say hey to the owner and get my Sandman collection complete. And to get the word out that I'd be downtown later at Yesterdays, one of my favorite bars.
Then around 1pm First Son and The Girl With No Plans came to get us to hang out at their place until Husband in Everything Except The Paper was of work. We played Exploding Kittens, a great card game and more laughter and conversation. We had a quick Chinese dinner and then off to pick up our last party member and head to Star Wars. Unfortunately when we got there it was sold out. So we went downtown early to Starlite. This was so fun to have martinis and munchies at another of my favorite bars. But by 9pm we were all feeling a bit partied out. So the kids dropped me off at That Guy's place for the partying with my friends to start.
The plan had been to hang out there, gaming and watching movies and getting our pre bar party on, like we always used to do. Then hit downtown and let everyone know I was really out. Benny Sweat made an appearance to be sure he caught me, just in case I maybe did too much pre bar prep. And guess what? I never made it out of That Guys place until it was time to call it a night. I was having a great time, don't get me wrong. But I'm so out of practice, that when the stone wall hit me, it hit me pretty hard and pretty quick. In my own defense I did get through two viewing of Fury Road while watching gaming at the same time, and hitting everything pretty hard. I'm afraid my hard core partying days are behind me. And while that might have let That Guy down a bit, it certainly did not let me down. I had the best time, because I didn't get so drunk I had to be carted to the hotel or hung over this morning. But just enough to have had a great time and build fond memories with my friends and family.
I look at this as personal growth. To know my limits and still have fun without regrets within those limits. Those of you that have partied to access in the past know what I"m talking about. And with that being said, while I've had fun at those times too, what you can remember of them, its much more fun to not wake with any guilt or regret and to know that all the fun you had was on your terms I know this is how most of you operation normally, its just not how I operate normally. I usually want to please everyone else first. But not anymore. Not since I left here and moved to the Windy City. Now I'm doing me. I'm pleasing me first, because I realize that it's my life, and the people that love me will love me more if I'm me, instead of being who I think they need. Being who I need is more honest and real, and much more intimate.
I love all of you that I was able to see, and thought of a great many of you that I didn't see. Maybe next year.
Cheers
And I was happy, basking in the afterglow of so much love from my kids. The next morning First Daughter was up early to spend as much time with me as possible so I grabbed a taxi and we had a wonderful breakfast at The Breakfast Club and Pub. A new restaurant that has an 80's theme. SO of course I wanted to go. Great food and of course great prices. We did some window shopping. Stopped into Def Ear to say hey to the owner and get my Sandman collection complete. And to get the word out that I'd be downtown later at Yesterdays, one of my favorite bars.
Then around 1pm First Son and The Girl With No Plans came to get us to hang out at their place until Husband in Everything Except The Paper was of work. We played Exploding Kittens, a great card game and more laughter and conversation. We had a quick Chinese dinner and then off to pick up our last party member and head to Star Wars. Unfortunately when we got there it was sold out. So we went downtown early to Starlite. This was so fun to have martinis and munchies at another of my favorite bars. But by 9pm we were all feeling a bit partied out. So the kids dropped me off at That Guy's place for the partying with my friends to start.
The plan had been to hang out there, gaming and watching movies and getting our pre bar party on, like we always used to do. Then hit downtown and let everyone know I was really out. Benny Sweat made an appearance to be sure he caught me, just in case I maybe did too much pre bar prep. And guess what? I never made it out of That Guys place until it was time to call it a night. I was having a great time, don't get me wrong. But I'm so out of practice, that when the stone wall hit me, it hit me pretty hard and pretty quick. In my own defense I did get through two viewing of Fury Road while watching gaming at the same time, and hitting everything pretty hard. I'm afraid my hard core partying days are behind me. And while that might have let That Guy down a bit, it certainly did not let me down. I had the best time, because I didn't get so drunk I had to be carted to the hotel or hung over this morning. But just enough to have had a great time and build fond memories with my friends and family.
I look at this as personal growth. To know my limits and still have fun without regrets within those limits. Those of you that have partied to access in the past know what I"m talking about. And with that being said, while I've had fun at those times too, what you can remember of them, its much more fun to not wake with any guilt or regret and to know that all the fun you had was on your terms I know this is how most of you operation normally, its just not how I operate normally. I usually want to please everyone else first. But not anymore. Not since I left here and moved to the Windy City. Now I'm doing me. I'm pleasing me first, because I realize that it's my life, and the people that love me will love me more if I'm me, instead of being who I think they need. Being who I need is more honest and real, and much more intimate.
I love all of you that I was able to see, and thought of a great many of you that I didn't see. Maybe next year.
Cheers
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Five More Days
Five days until Christmas! Five days until I see my family again! I'm so excited I really can't think of much else. Well except Star Wars. If you watched The Big Bang Theory last week then you have an idea of how I felt watching the movie. On opening night, I even texted both First Daughter and First Son a T-minus 15 minutes and counting text BEFORE I streamed the episode Saturday morning. How embarrassing to be so publicly and correctly adapted from fact to fiction. I'm a fan girl and I loved it. But not as much as I love my kids.
Its been since last Christmas, when I'd been able to see First Son, and his wife, The Girl With No Plans, but we talk almost weekly on line. I can't wait to hug them and let my eyes drink them in. And it's been only a few months since First Daughter moved back there but it feels like a year since I had a meal and talked with her about life. And we text at least twice a week. Seeing her and her Husband In Everything Except The Paper, again will be just as wonderful as the last time. I wish I had more time with them, but a quick trip is all I can do this year.
I'm sure even with a weekend together we will shove everything we can into those days and nights for the memories will have to last a year.
I think this is the hardest thing about having children, watching them grow up and leave you. Don't get me wrong I wanted my kids to move out when they grew up, tried to push them out the doors, but at the same time, those doors were always open in case they needed to come home. Now as they are both approaching thirty or in their thirties, it seems my time alone is finally here. It seems they would never need their old bedrooms, and quite frankly I moved away from them almost two years ago as well. I'm am at the same time, proud of their successes and miss them both more than I can ever express in written form.
BUT in five days I will show them. With all the love I have to give. I will listen and be empathetic to their dreams and lives and hold them and cherish them for who they have grown into being. I will trust their decisions but be there to offer advice where I see they might need a different point of view, but as always I will only be telling stories. Stories that hopefully shed light on their situations. Or in other words I'll be the best parent I know how to be and have always been. I'm one of the lucky ones, for I would pick my children to be friends if I met them on the street, and I know it's mutual. So heres to five more days.
Cheers
Its been since last Christmas, when I'd been able to see First Son, and his wife, The Girl With No Plans, but we talk almost weekly on line. I can't wait to hug them and let my eyes drink them in. And it's been only a few months since First Daughter moved back there but it feels like a year since I had a meal and talked with her about life. And we text at least twice a week. Seeing her and her Husband In Everything Except The Paper, again will be just as wonderful as the last time. I wish I had more time with them, but a quick trip is all I can do this year.
I'm sure even with a weekend together we will shove everything we can into those days and nights for the memories will have to last a year.
I think this is the hardest thing about having children, watching them grow up and leave you. Don't get me wrong I wanted my kids to move out when they grew up, tried to push them out the doors, but at the same time, those doors were always open in case they needed to come home. Now as they are both approaching thirty or in their thirties, it seems my time alone is finally here. It seems they would never need their old bedrooms, and quite frankly I moved away from them almost two years ago as well. I'm am at the same time, proud of their successes and miss them both more than I can ever express in written form.
BUT in five days I will show them. With all the love I have to give. I will listen and be empathetic to their dreams and lives and hold them and cherish them for who they have grown into being. I will trust their decisions but be there to offer advice where I see they might need a different point of view, but as always I will only be telling stories. Stories that hopefully shed light on their situations. Or in other words I'll be the best parent I know how to be and have always been. I'm one of the lucky ones, for I would pick my children to be friends if I met them on the street, and I know it's mutual. So heres to five more days.
Cheers
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