Illiterations: Laughing At My Own Expense

So much like a tub of beautiful, fresh-from-the-cow milk, the sweetest, richest, things eventually surface if they are left alone to process. This can be said for cheese and wine and compost piles... And sometimes it can be said about relationships. Anybody who's been reading this blog knows that I have been head over heels about a certain person for over a year. But sometimes even in the heat of passion and love there's an up-shift, and things get even more amazing and better. Such is the case with myself and my man. I think some people who read this blog think that I should share his name. I've come close. But he is a very private person and so I am continuing to respect his desires in that regard. Back to my topic at hand.  Maybe it's just the relaxing of long-term pressure and obligation. He recently, in fact, JUST, retired from his day job. The immediate and amazing impact of the freedom that this seems to have brought him has almost left me speechless. It's as...

My friend Shara put it most eloquently when she pointed out to me something I couldn't articulate for myself.  She said, "women are hardwired to hone in on safe spaces and safety." And she and I have compared notes and we both agree that in our earlier lives before a certain thing happened to each of us that we both went through life feeling safe. We both thought we had it handled and that we were tough enough to stick up for ourselves. We probably weren't wrong for the most part. But for me, on July 4th 2023, in Tahoe Keys, South Lake Tahoe, in the parking lot of the condos, the idea of feeling safe came into clearer focus for me. On that night after the fireworks show had ended and I had dropped my friends off in the parking lot of their condo I was assaulted by a stranger. How we ended up in contact with each other is relatively unimportant. Nonetheless, understanding that most people would like context, I will share some detail. The parking lot where I dropped off...

Almost all the time, we function together and interact together so smoothly we are seamless. We get each other. We finish each other's sentences. Smooth as silk. I don't love the moments when we are suddenly out of step with each other. Those are monumental moments. They always are every time. But I have learned that the pain of those moments --which is like giving birth, it is often so difficult--leads us to a new plateau. It never fails. The most monumental and most painful moments between us seem to lead us to even deeper closeness after we process the moment and move forward. And after each of those instances which are not common but also not non-existent, we have these absolutely blissful weeks of synchronicity and finishing each other's sentences and inside jokes that transcend previous versions of the same. I love it; I love all of it.  I understand that this is what it feels like to fall in love and become one with the person that you love. It's been so long sin...

These days, I occasionally catch myself remembering people who once were very central to my life but now are gone.  I can't think of even one that I miss anymore--if I ever did.  Some of them ducked out unexpectedly, over something so tiny I couldn't even identify a real reason.  Others left in a storm of disagreement.  Although, I'll say, the ones in the second category are rare.  I don't like drama, and don't seek it, and I don't like to fight.  I may be musing over these thoughts because July 4th is only a few days away, and it's the first really big holiday of the year (you know, the type where the entire country is kicking back and eating and drinking and NOBODY is at work).  On such holidays, as somebody who's spent so much of her life single, I consider who I'll be spending time with, and what I might be doing, if anything.  Holidays can be really quiet for single people.  I know my man will be out rescuing wildlife, or, perhaps, poppi...

I'm probably dating myself, but do you remember Superman before all the superheroes, and Superman's alter-ego Clark Kent? Clark had a love interest. It was Lois Lane. And he never fully told her everything he was doing. He always kept his secret even from her. She loved him and somewhere deep down he loved her. But he was afraid to reveal his deepest self and his truest truths to her. His secret was that he was Superman, and he was vulnerable in certain ways. He feared sharing his truth would also reveal his vulnerabilities and even though he loved her he still kept some distance by way of not disclosing who his alter-ego was. Sometimes I feel a little bit like Lois Lane. I know who his version of his Super-self is. He is not required to hide his true superhero alter-ego from the world. So, fortunately I suppose, his alter-ego and he are one and the same. Also, sweetly, I know his vulnerabilities. Perhaps not all of them. But I know many, and I know where his pain lies. But unl...

  I found a little colt; wild, handsome, solid, true. I brought him home thinking I would just get to know him; suddenly he was in my blood. I'd feed him sugar cubes and get him to trust me; he would until I asserted my own will. Then off he ran tail flagging to the farthest reaches of my acres. He'd wander back looking for that sugar;  knowing I loved him; not wanting to yield. I found a man who matched me--not an easy thing. I brought him home thinking I would just get to know him; suddenly he was in my blood. I gave him all my sweetness, and I hoped he trusted me. But I asked and asked and asked one more time. Away he flew and I thought we were done. But he wandered back looking for that same sweetness. He wanted that sweetness but feared it made him weak. With the colt I take my time. We take forward steps then we take a couple of steps back. With the man I also take my time. I know now two wills, one relationship, means compromise. That little horse, it came time to ride ...

No Amount of Bullshit  

I might have believed that my entire friend group suffered suddenly from mass hysteria. I really might have. I mean after all, the term that psychologists refer to as "groupthink" is a documented phenomenon that can occur in some groups of people over time and with influence. And equally documented are the instances when groupthink has accounted for irrational and even devastating and murderous consequences in groups. But what if what happened wasn't exactly groupthink? What if it was a case of mean girls and weak followers? Well, just as there is a sociological and psychological thread of studies for the groupthink paradigm there is also a well-studied and defined understanding in the psychological profession for the "mean girl" phenomenon. And here is what is said by professionals regarding the "mean girl" phenomenon. "The "mean girl" phenomenon, characterized by relational aggression and bullying behaviors, can manifest in adult frien...

This is not a friendly, emotional, or reflective post. Nope.  This is directed at the ASSHOLE stalking my personal blog while all the while thinking that I am writing for YOU.  Imagine the ego. Since you can no longer leave bile-spewing comments on my blog itself, you are now trying to stalk me from WhatsApp, texting me condescending opinions about my life, which you have no other information about. Get over your infatuation with me, and what I am doing, and how I am enjoying my life.  Go find your own life and happiness, and don't concern yourself with me.  I am happy. And, just to be clear, I have enjoyed a number of men since my marriage ended.  I have fallen in love, and I have never looked back.  It has not been hard to meet men who want me.  I can happily say I am still friends with a number of the men I've recently dated.  They are ALL younger than me, some by quite a bit. Only a NARCISSIST would be concerning themselves with my personal li...

 I'm three months out of a mass scapegoating.  Yeah, it really is a thing.  I'm not gonna write about it here but suffice it to say that if you've experienced it, you know it's a thing, and if you have not, you can Google the scapegoating phenomenon and what sociologists and psychologists have to say about it. Anyway, the coven of people who scapegoated me were once a sweet little group of friends who would never have betrayed each other, nor spoken ill of each other out of earshot.  Or in, for that matter.  One of the things I loved about our little friend group was that, by and large, I was the one who pulled us all together.  I was very proud of that fact. Since the initial event, though, I have been reflecting on how I connect with other women and make friends.  It has made me scratch my head a bit and wonder if I should listen to my inner voice when building friendships.  You see, what I have ultimately concluded is that our solid, happy grou...