Duh

1. Not all content of this blog is true.

2. Not all content of this blog is untrue.

3. Not all content of this blog is about you.

4. All content of this blog is about me.

Questions? Concerns? Please forward to the blog mistress.

Thank you

Feel like walking the world

or running or skipping or dancing

or soaring or diving or plunging

or floating or sprinting or tiptoeing

or scrabbling or crawling or somersaulting

or sliding or falling or leaping

or swimming or shimmying or clambering for a foothold

I just want to see it all, pick up bits of dirt and leaves and sand and shell, breathe the rain and drink the air, fall and arise, be scratched and cut and bleeding and scarred and healed.

Is it the little things?

Yes, of course it is.

Today is LaToya's birthday, so last night I did my best to ruin her workspace with crepe paper, balloons, banners and all manner of crap. She's a bit prickly and she pretended not to like it, but she did. :) She's the rockingest chick. She tries to fly under the radar and not call attention to herself, but she just doesn't realize how amazing she is. Now I'm going to take her to lunch and shower her with gifts, because today is her day and that's how it's gonna be. Gotta keep her blushing.

In other news, I'm bad ass because I'm wearing my red boots, I'm having an especially good hair day, I smell like vanilla lotion, and my social calendar is full. Fear me.

For Sally

You like? He's coming to your place to-mo-rrow...and he's promised that he's perfected the workings of the breakaway pants.


Happy Birthday, girlfriend. This is going to be the most mind-blowing year for you. :) Thanks for everything, Much love, GEG

What's the difference between a blonde and a washing machine?

A washing machine won't follow you around after you drop a load in.

What do you get when you turn a blonde upside down?

A brunette.

How do blonde brain cells die?

Alone.

Sorry, there were a lot of blonde jokes last night that tickled me. Silly, but they stuck with me.

Last night, LaToya and I went out for a big night. I met her over at her place and we had a special treat before cabbing it over to the biggest gay bar in town with "The Nation's #1 Drag Show!" She'd never been and I hadn't been in ages -- and I knew she'd love it. We wanted to see the show, of course, and it's such a great place to dance -- good music and a big energetic crowd. Too fun. I'd dolled myself up, thinking all the while, well, this is a waste. I look amazing and I'm going to a gay bar! But I felt great.

After getting lost in the maze of rooms and bars, we finally found the theater just in time to snag a table in the front. The first show was such a blast, we stayed for the second one, too. The crowd was huge and loud and the mood in the room lifted my spirits just the way I had hoped for. My favorite was Mokha Montrese, a beauty, to be sure. I had a big wad of ones when I got there and I don't seem to have any now, so I'm not sure how much money I gave her, but she got most of mine. I was determined to get a kiss, which I didn't get the first time, so I had to keep going back, now didn't I? LaToya was more into Simone. But she wouldn't line up to give the dancers the money like everyone else -- she would wait until Simone shimmied over to our end of the stage, then scurry up, thrust the money at her, and then scurry back to our table with a big smile on her face. So cute.

She also kept my vodkas coming at a furious pace, so I had a bit of trouble making my way back and forth to the stage in my heels. Somehow, I managed to keep my balance. But I was worried about the second part of the plan -- dancing!

After the second show, we ventured back toward the huge dance floor to see what was up.

Turned out I was in for a detour.

You know how disconcerting it is when someone comes up to you and greets you as if you know one another, but you're not sure who they are? A beautiful boy approached me and hugged me and said, "hey, how ARE you?" in just that way. I couldn't take my eyes off him, and I knew I had never met him before. So I played along, to keep him there a bit longer. His smile was dazzling, his body unbelievable. His eyes were locked in on mine and I'm sure I was grinning like an idiot. We played the game for a couple more minutes, and then he grabbed my hand and started walking.

A minute later, we were in a dark corner, me pressed up against the wall, his body pressed up against mine. Another minute later, the clothes were undone and half off, and we were going at it, with hundreds of people right around the corner, dancing, shouting and singing. It was so freeing, so erotic, I was flying. At first, time seemed to speed up, and then it was in slow motion. I felt steady on my feet, unlike before, as he spun me around to face the wall. It's true: You can't always get what you want, but sometimes you do get what you need.

I had been thinking earlier in the evening about how it could be that men can go through a major break-up and immediately start fucking whatever they can catch, seemingly with no need to gather themselves or sort through the pain first. I could never do that. I haven't done that. This was the first time for me since my separation and I never saw it coming, but it turned out to be perfect. No time to think about it first, no awkwardness, no lies or promises or any of that. Just me and him. Just lust.

After we got ourselves put back together, we were both too breathless to speak and with one last look in each other's eyes, we walked off in opposite directions. When I found LaToya again, and told her what had just happened, she squealed, jumped up and down, and squeezed me so hard, it hurt. She dragged me onto the dance floor and we stayed there until we were both about to drop from exhaustion. Plus, my legs were shaking and the room was starting to spin. It was a relief to get out into the cold air, and then into the cab. For some reason, there was another passenger, a man who kept saying, "My name is Earl." And the driver and LaToya and I spoke French all the way back to her house -- I have no recollection of how that got started, but it's very weird how foreign languages come easier to me when I've been drinking. I'll have to make a mental note of that for my next vacation.

We were too wired to sleep, even though it was about 4:00 by this time and we were so tired. We stayed up talking about life, and men, and how life surprises you, or you surprise yourself, and she talked me down when I started to freak a little about what had happened. I finally fell asleep on her couch, stayed there for a couple of hours, then snuck out to speed home to retire to my own bed with my thoughts.

I like making plans, I'm just not that good at it

Okay, so I'm having a big party. I sent out the Evite to all my friends, thinking that some wouldn't be able to make it. Uh -- looks like just about everybody is coming, and some are bringing a guest, as well, which is excellent. I'm so excited. I'm planning something special for my favorite people who are so great to me.

The thing is, the place I'm living now is much smaller than my house that I had to move out of recently. I miss my house. Guess I'll just have to buy a better one, but in the meantime, where am I going to put all these people??? Full house! I just didn't anticipate this little conundrum. We're going to be up close and highly personal. I'll be selfless and give up my seat -- and sit in someone's lap. Maybe this isn't a problem, after all.

Because I like the cut of his jib

Yes, Simon, yes.

It could always be worse

1. I got rear-ended on the road this morning. My first reaction was to go into immediate denial, with my head in my hands. But the other driver had the exact same car as me, so we were matched in weight and bumper height. We couldn't find any visible damage, so we exchanged information and went on our ways. The other driver called me later to make sure I was okay and apologize. She had been on her way to a doctor's appointment -- an appointment having to do with whether she has cancer. She won't get the results for a couple of weeks. I was glad that I hadn't gone off on her unnecessarily. She didn't need the added stress. (Who does?)

That was the first combo reminder that it could always be worse.

2. I found out later in the day today that the other party in a developing "thing" is married. He thought I wouldn't find out. Of course, I did. I'm not stupid. Nor am I interested in a married man. No more developments for him -- with me. Much better now than later.

It could always be worse!

Best boy

Aren't



I



the cutest?

A closer look

An indentation marks the ring finger of my left hand. No surprise, that finger wore the wide gold ring for over 14 years. Now I can see a quite prominent scar, a raised diagonal line, that was hidden. It's been there far longer, and will remain after the indentation goes. I was two and on a road trip with my grandparents. Pop Pop would be dead a year later. I cried the whole trip. Pictures of me crying, wearing Pop Pop's white T-shirt, are brought out when I visit Gan. We were in a car accident. Glass went into my eyes. Only my hands were scarred. Left ring finger. Right index. Right middle.

Along the outside tip of my right pinky, another long scar. Ripped it open years ago, in my mother-in-law's basement, on a metal clasp. Felt it open, couldn't stand to look at it. I covered it with my left hand and ran up the stairs, yelling to my husband, "Help me! Help me! Help me!"

In my mouth, my fingers are salty and sweet for one brief moment before the taste fades.

My hands are small. Strong. The nails grow fast and almost never break, except under extreme duress. At those times, I overreact in dismay. The nails remain unpainted, white, oval shaped, about a quarter inch above the quick. Useful for opening packages. People put their own hands out quickly, saying, "get a knife!" I'd rather use my nails. Useful, too, for scratching backs or smoothing back hair from a loved one's scalp. Or holding, caressing, squeezing a loved one's larger hand. The most soothing moments in my lifetime came from that movement.

I've long since lost the calluses on my left hand fingers from the violin strings.

The skin on the backs of my hands is soft and supple. Pale. On my palm, smooth and drier. Which is the life line? The love line? I never learned. They do cross. Looking closer, though, the skin is not smooth, at all. The millions of tiny creases and whorls start to look ridiculous, the knuckles quite embarrassing. Little cuts here and there are always present, a small burn today, as well, because my hands are strong and perform their varied work without thanks or care -- good little soldiers.

Beck is my rock-and-roll boyfriend

He's also apparently a Hollywood nutbar, so that's all he'll ever be to me, but I cannot stop listening to The Information. Rock On.

Trend watching

Several people sent me this article today:

51 Percent of Women Are Now Living Without a Spouse

One woman quoted in this article comments that we still live in a "marriage culture," but this trend of more adult women living without a spouse shows that that culture is waning. So younger women are waiting longer to marry, or deciding not to marry at all (no personal experience there). And older women who have been married are choosing to remain single after divorce, widowhood, etc. I can see that. I love the statement that one divorced woman makes: Every day is like a present. Not to say that marriage can't be a wonderful experience, but more sisters learning that they can, in fact, do "it," whatever they want "it" to be, for themselves, can only benefit the rest of us. More for my mother's generation than for mine, but it does still apply -- I think men generally get more out of marriage than women do, when you factor in everything, including health, career, social benefits, etc. Must be why they are more likely to rush back into marriage after divorcing instead of taking time to learn more deeply about themselves, like it sounds like these women are doing.

I know I'm already having a ball doing the same.

Anyhoo, thanks for the article, guys.

Best-MLK-Weekend-Ever

Truth in advertising -- I can't actually remember any previous MLK weekends, specifically, but future ones will have to work hard to live up to this one. Actually, this whole week has been amazing, starting with painting the town pink with the Pinkies, where the drama never ends. Friday out, I made a new friend with a verrrrry interesting proposition for me. Saturday, spent the day in Cincy with one of my best friends that I don't get to see nearly enough. Coincidentally, a few of my other friends were up there for the day, as well, so we all got together for awhile, and it was a great worlds colliding moment. Sunday, got to cook for and then go to a fun party in honor of Jack Bauer -- he's back and a more tortured BAD ASS than ever (and no Audrey, hurray!). Then out with a friend to our new favorite hangout to help them through a minor crisis. Had today off work and ran around with some folks all day and then dance class, which I adore.

Plus, I slept like a (good) baby... ahh ... and got a new camera to play with.

Can I keep up this pace? Not likely. Am I worried about it? Nah. It's fun to act like a kid sometimes.

Okay, all my attention must get back to Jack...

My people

Something has finally sunk in with me. Now that we're separated and divorcing, my friends -- and more to the point, my husband's and my mutual friends -- are sticking with me. And they're sticking tight. I had convinced myself that that would not be the case, that I would lose all or at least most of my friends because they would choose him over me. Even that he (the good one) deserved to take all of them away from me (the bad one), and I should start over with absolutely nothing. They all know everything that's happened with and to me, and what's going on now. And they're right with me, every day. (By the way, I'm not saying my husband isn't a good person. He certainly is.)

I have an invitation to go out, or a visitor, every day. One cooks for me to make sure I have real food and that I eat. They watch my dog if I need to be away for awhile. One drives me when I'm too crazed to do it myself safely. And I've never received so many friendly phone calls, voice mails, e-mails, letters, texts, cards, little gifts and silly jokes. If I need to be alone, they leave me alone (but not too long). When I start moaning about how everything is screwed up, or I've made this or that mistake, they let me bitch for awhile, we get it all out, and then they talk me down and make me admit that I'm a good person who was in a bad situation, that I did the best I could and I got hurt, and that unforgettable moments, both positive and negative, and new experiences are ahead of me, whatever I want to happen, if I keep my focus on the future and stop worrying about the past. Sitting quietly with me is good. Or gossiping. They make me laugh and laugh. It's all so much better than "professional" help.

So….it's the opposite of what I convinced myself it would be at this point. Looking back over this, it still seems unreal, but it's not. It's all real. I realize I have to stop thinking that I don't deserve any of this special treatment.

I've kept waking up every day, thinking that would be the day I'd find out that I'd been left the unchosen one. It's human nature to choose one person, if not a "side," in these situations. I know it's awkward and uncomfortable for all of them to witness this story. Especially for our closest friends. There's one couple that we used to socialize and travel with regularly that is trying to keep the lines open with both of us, but they're the only ones, and even they're having a hard time, given the situation now.

It blows me away.

What does that say? That I choose my friends wisely (usually), I think. But also that I made a mistake. I let someone take away so much of my self-confidence that I was doubting not only myself but my friends who love me, the ones who never did anything to indicate that I ought to lose my faith and trust in their good-heartedness. I let my power and faith in myself be sucked out day after day after day. Couldn't think of many reasons anyone would want to spend time with me, listen to me, stick by me. Why did I do that? I'm still trying to figure out the answer. I'm not completely sure. But I did. I let my self-confidence and self-esteem be taken away and I became a different person. A person who no longer stood up for herself and demanded the treatment she deserved, as she always had before. I got weaker and smaller, less alive, more self-hating. I hated that person, from top to bottom, from the inside out. I hate that I was that person, even temporarily. Some folks have a talent or born ability to get people to do what they want them to do; in most situations, that person is me, but for awhile it was someone else, and I was controlled, and pulled in, and pushed away, and back and forth until I didn't know my own mind anymore, or what to believe or think. I still tried to treat others as I wanted to be treated, but when that reciprocation didn't happen, I gave too many chances, cutting off and giving away a piece of myself each time, instead of paying attention to what I saw and knew and keeping control of and for myself. I don't know exactly how it all happened, but I do know it won't happen again. If I wasn't smarter than that then, I am now.

So now, I'm getting back into my normal mindset. Being on my own and doing what I want, when I want, helps, actually. I don't have to worry about what others think or whether they might freak out for some unknown reason, or no reason at all. I'm not thrilled that I'm getting divorced and my life is in such upheaval, but I don't have much choice in the matter now and I have to take care of myself (and let my helpers help).

Part of me is broken, but only part. Giving my time, attention, caring and love back to the people who are giving it to me every day isn't something I have to do, exactly, it's what I want to do. I know now, too, how much I've missed in the last couple of years by being so wrapped up in other things. At least I know that even so, the person I am, the way I am, came through, even in the bad times. And, yes, I have thanked my friends and told them how grateful I am and how devoted to them I'll always be, to their faces, looking into their eyes. Because they deserve to know how much of a difference they're making. I don't think it's totally overstating the case to say that they've saved a life. Okay, I've rambled on about sappy stuff long enough. Next time, no sap, just the usual crap. I've got plenty of stupid drama to share.

[While I was writing this, I went to lunch with a friend and broached this subject. She said, "You have nothing to worry about, we all make mistakes (and there are degrees of mistake), we love you, and you won't be abandoned by true friends. We're going to take care of and protect YOU, not that you need all that much help. Now shut up and pass the bread." :) ]

Me gusto mucho

I went to salsa dancing class tonight -- so fun! I thought I'd forgotten everything from a few months ago, but it's coming back quickly. Got the endorphins and sweat flowing in a flash. All that touching, just an arm's length away, then a little closer, then away again, eye contact, and knowing that salsa is all about sex and romance and showing off the woman's movements and swinging hair and hips. There's one move we called The Hairbrush in class (probably should be called Foreplay) where the guy runs his hand over my hair and down my back, and my hand follows his down my own hair, then we grab each other and pull in close, face to face. Uh. Wow. I must say, there's nothing sexier than a guy who can, and will, dance. (More men should understand this, for crying out loud, and I'm making it part of my mission in life to educate them.) And that latin hip swivel action -- oh my my. Highly recommended!

I knew with some work, we'd end up back together

After one trip to Radio Shack, I forget how many calls to my ISP, router manufacturer and Tivo, and way too many hours of frustration (with a break to go dancing and blow off all that steam) -- Tivo and I are back together. I don't know about forever, but I made a two-year commitment (subject to cancellation, of course). It was way more trouble than I thought it'd be, but I wasn't going to give up and I did it all myself (well, me and the tech support guys). I even learned a little more about networking (getting geekier every day, y'all).

Tivo anticipates my needs, gives me exactly what I ask for when I ask for it, works while I'm playing, skips the boring stuff and is generally at my beck and call 24/7. And Tivo doesn't talk. I think I love he!

Perks

Working at home...ahhh. It's so quiet. I can make my own good coffee. I can scratch my dog's belly and mess up his hair or give him a mohawk to make myself laugh. I can sit in all the weird positions that are comfortable to me (I hate sitting in office chairs, and I'm always sitting on my feet or crossing my legs up onto the chair or something to try to make it better). Sideways in the big chair with my legs hanging over the side. On the floor with legs crossed indian-style. Butt on one chair, feet on the other. Lying on the bed on my stomach. Laptop on thighs, or knees or even balanced on my feet. I can work naked. I'm naked right now. I am! Okay, now I'm getting cold. Does the office have one of these nice, soft toasty blankets for when you're cold and naked? No, it doesn't. I think you see my point. Okay, must work now.

Mom's biopsy

Benign!

Man, I needed that news after today, which sucked so much goat's ass I can't even tell you. But she needed it more. Good, good news for a good, good mama.

Huh, people are saying the darndest things (to me)

Thank you, that was sweet.
We're going to have adventures together.
I'm so glad we're back in contact.
I wish things were different.
Want to go to Brazil with me?
You're so beautiful.
Would you help me with something I'm writing?
I admire you.
Do you have children?
I can set you up with a great guy.
Let's dance!
Can't wait to see you.
This is your year.
I love you.
You are unbelievable!
It's just too hard to talk to you right now.
I always thought he was a cocksucker.
You're so good to me.
I value your friendship.
Can I see your titties?
You should wear your hair up more often, it shows off your face.
You're losing weight. Are you OK?
I wish I'd been there with you.
I can't believe you did that.
Where would you do it?
Don't worry about what he thinks.
Is there anything I can do for you?
Your hair color really brings out the blue in your eyes.
Keep your mane...please.
Want to start a book club?
You can put it in your mouth if you want to.
You can call me anything you want as long as you do it with a smile on your face.
I forgot how much I like snatch.

The fun begins

Off to the divorce lawyer we go. I guess the fun has been going on for quite awhile, but now we get to pay hard-earned money to have this mess made legal and binding. Isn't that special? Soon it'll be behind me instead of ahead of me and I'll have a bit less baggage so I can travel light. As I've been told more than once, the world is my oyster now, so off I go.

I hate oysters.

Fingers crossed

Mom's surgery is finally a go for today. She sat the doctors, etc. down and made them go over her medication and other concerns with her, and seems satisfied that they probably won't kill her. Unfortunately, she's on the other side of the Pacific, so I'm not so sure, but she's no dummy (the doctors may be, though). It's just the beginning of another fairly long ordeal -- many more tests and procedures are to come. Any good thoughts and well wishes are more than welcome.