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Updated: 2018-02-24T03:16:01.689-08:00


I miss books and movies


I can no longer consume most media entertainment.  

I can't read much.  As soon as the story gets even the tiniest bit stressful, i put the book down until enough time has passed that i no longer care about the story.  Sometimes this takes months. I have been a reader all my life, but not now.  It feels too hard. I miss reading.

I was just watching a stupid dragon movie, one for kids basically, and as soon as the evil person plot twist arrived i hit pause.  It upset me. I wonder if i will ever finish watching.

I have heard lots about the popular TV/Netflix/HBO/etc shows, but i can't watch them, they make me sad. They all seem to be about scary situations, or unpleasant people, or both.  

It's all about managing anxiety, i think.  It feels like life is stressful and scary enough without watching/reading things that make me have feelings.

I am barely balanced. It takes just the slightest push to tip me over. I work hard to protect myself from the world.  

This cannot be normal.



I am afraid that i am a bitch.  I am afraid that i don't know how to have a relationship that is not a competition.  It's all i know.

I am going on a trip with a man soon.  I made the flight reservations a month ago and then emailed the itinerary to this man.  A month ago.

Yesterday he texted me to please send him the itinerary.  I thought about this.  Then i deliberately did the following:

1.) I went into my sent mail and forwarded him the previous email that i had sent.
2.) I then texted him that "i just re-sent the itinerary to your email."


Seriously, i forget stuff sometimes too. Why could i not just have forwarded the fucking original itinerary?  But i just had to make a point of letting him know that he had missed something.

It's all i know.

I don't feel very good about myself right now.

My stomach hurts


Another memory from long ago.

I spent two weeks in the hospital when I was 11 after an accident involving a fish tank and a laundry tub.

While I was recovering, one hand all wrapped to hell with the injury, and the other hand immobilized with an IV, my stomach hurt a lot from all the medications and surgery, and probably fear and shock.

I wanted someone to place their hand on my hurting tummy to comfort me.  I wanted my mother to place her hand on my hurting tummy.  She did, sometimes.  It felt good and soothed me.

I feel that way right now.

I am a rich, old, white woman.  Our new president cannot really hurt me.  I will not need an abortion. I can afford to fly my daughter to another country should she need one (unlikely, see below). I can afford health care. I am no longer harassed by men in the street.

But i am sick with this.  My daughter, who is (mostly) gay is afraid.  So am i.  I can't sleep.  I have been donating $ to Planned Parenthood and the ACLU and RAINN, and one other that i have not selected yet.  

I am a habitual NPR listener.  I have not turned my radio on in 6 days.

I went to a rally yesterday.  I have never dome such a thing in my life.  When Bush won, and then Bush won, and then Gore won, but Bush became president, i was bummed, but not gutted.

Thanks for listening.  I know i am not alone.

A Memory of Caring


Standing by the window on that snowy night,
The radio keeps me company, telling me of damaged cars all over the city.
I am looking for your car to appear, safely, in the street far below.
The snow makes fractal patterns in the dandelion circles of the street lights,
All must be well in my world before i can appreciate them.

My hands have a mind of their own, slowly tearing a paper cup to shreds.
Scarce pedestrians are bent at an angle as they tread carefully, fighting the wind.
When i see your car turn the corner onto our street, i go back and pick up a book 
So that when you come in, i can look up, as if surprised, and say "Oh, there you are. What a nasty night."

Need to know


It has been a long time since i broke up with someone.  It has not been as long since i was broken up with.

A friend of mine just got dumped, really unexpectedly, by his boyfriend this past weekend.  He came over to my house right after because he didn't want to be alone.  This is cool, i am very glad that i was able to at least be there because i of all people know that there is really nothing i can do to help, other than be there and listen.

His new ex bf gave three reasons for wanting to "take a break".  As i was listening to the "reasons", i realized that they were all bullshit.  The truth is that ex didn't want to be with him anymore.  Period. And then he looked for some reasons, because we all expect reasons when we are dumped.

I think if i ever break up with someone again, i will give no reasons.  And if i am ever broken up with, i will refuse to hear any reasons.  Those reasons can resonate in a person's head forever, and they are often not the point, or the truth. And they are unkind and they hurt.  Why not skip the reasons and just simply say "I don't want to be with you anymore"?

Because that is the truth, bottom line.

Writers gotta write


Things of note that happened in the past 2.5 years:

My brother died of cancer in May of 2014.  I have feelings about this because i always thought there would be time to correct whatever it was that made him not want to be around me.  I have another brother and if he died i would be devastated, but not regretful.  He loves me and i love him.  Now that  our brother has died, we say that to each other, although we both always knew it.

My parents are really fucking old.  My mom is losing her mind at 87, and my 90 year old dad is taking care of her.  He used to be 6'2", and is now closer to 5'9".  He's doing okay mentally, but is kinda frail.  I have always said "It's what you do when you have the power that shows who you are".  When my mother had the power over me, she was mean.  Now i have the power, because she wants me to like her.  I realized a few years ago that my thing that i say applies to me too.  So i will be kind and helpful to my mother, even if i don't like her.

I went online just over a year ago to find a boyfriend.  I met someone and we are hanging out, but there's not much out there and i won't do it again.  He refers to me as his girlfriend, but all he does is talk and talk.  There is no room for me.  He is kind and smart and funny, but i know why he has been divorced twice. It's okay for now, but i fear it will not end well. 

All my life, i have been preparing to be/been part of a couple.  Readjusting to the thought that i will be alone the rest of my life is ...... interesting.  I mean, i am not alone, i have 4 people on this earth, maybe 5, who love me and get me, but not being a couple is weird.  But, slowly, i will accept it.

I got a dog about 6 months ago.  I have wanted a dog for years, but i understand the time and commitment that having a dog takes.  She is so great. I didn't want a puppy, but i went to the Humane Society and there was her face.  I had no choice.

I still hate my ex.  I still think about him every day.  I hate to say that, but it is true, goddammit.  He is a shitty dad and barely sees his daughter.  This makes me both happy and sad.

There is probably some other stuff, but i weary of typing.

I miss this.


My grandmother called you "The Pansies".  I giggled at the image of a man as a pansy, visualizing a head bobbing on a thin stem, surrounded by purple petals.

My giggles encouraged her to continue her act by flapping her wrists loosely in the air, making me laugh harder.  I knew that my grandmother was being naughty, as she was given to being, when she wasn't drunk and mean.  I was grateful to have the silly and conspiratorial grandmother right then.

I didn't know what a "pansy" was, other than a man who was girly.  As a girl, i understood that being girly was something weak and foolish, something my grandmother was not.

She was most decidedly not girly, this woman who could shoot and hunt and drink and fight and cuss.  In her presence, i shoved down the very little girly parts that were in me, knowing they were weak.



I know there are very few of you still out there, but i still feel the need to say goodbye.  This is not a safe place for me anymore.  My daughter found me here, by googling the names of my cats, and although i doubt she is interested enough to check in, she might.  I have things to say that i don't want her knowing.

Plus i foolishly gave the address to a few real life friends, one of whom keeps asking me if my therapist considers it "normal" for me to be taking this long to "get over it."

I don't know where i will go, but i need to be able to write without censoring myself.  

Except for the occasional troll, i have treasured each of your comments.  You have no idea what this blog has meant to me.

Okay, maybe you do.

Peace, courage, love and safe travels.

Is this a poem?


I won't compete for attention.  Not for very long anyway.

You ask me a question, and then, when i start to answer, you interrupt me and talk about yourself.

Okay, i get it.  You didn't really want to know what i had to say, you just wanted to talk some more about yourself.  


But i won't beg, and i won't return to my point after you interrupt, unless you insist.  Which you rarely do.  

I will withdraw.  My silence is my defense.

And you notice my silence, subconsciously.  It makes you talk more.  I wonder, is silence an anathema to you?  

I kind of like silence.  It would leave me space to love you.

Same Old Shit


I cried today, in the grocery store, and then in the car on the way home.  It's been a while since i cried, but apparently i am not done grieving.

I had a random memory:

The time he came home after going out "for a drive" and rushed back to his closet to change his shirt before he greeted me.  When i asked WTF? he told me that he had smoked a cigarette and didn't want me to know.  He was trying to quit smoking at the time, so i bought it.  I bought it.  I believed him.

As we now know, this was a lie.

And in remembering it, i was infused with rage.  How could he look me in the eye and tell me that bullshit?  How DARE he?  I want to go back in time and crush his skull with my bare hands.  (If you think i am exaggerating, you are wrong.) This overwhelming feeling of helpless rage is awful.  What do i do with this rage?  How will i ever get rid of it?  I do not know.

And so i cried.

me me me me me me me ME


It's my business.  And it's my writing, as pathetic/inspiring/cliche/mundane/honest/trite as it may seem.  I did it.  I own it.  If it's trite, like you said in your e-mail, that's okay.  I own it.  I am trite.  I have no illusions that i am unique.  BTW, neither are you.

On My Own


Life is continual change, at least in my case.  I once thought it was static, but i was wrong.

Learning to live with another person in the house, one who sweetly asks my permission to 1) go to dinner with her dad, 2) Spend the night at a friend's house.

Of course, she being 22 (WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN????) does not need to ask my "permission". It is just a sweet way of letting me know what she is doing.

I think less and less of him, but still too much.  I mean, i think very little of him, but i think of him too often.  Heh.

Today's pleasures:

Farm fresh eggs, with chicken shit still on them.
Dogs, i loves them
Dinner with Em
A spectacular hike this weekend to look forward to.
A late rising
Doing it for myself

I'm okay, You're okay.


I feel a little bit like i should explain.  

This is my venting place, where i can express things that are better left unsaid in the real world.  I am not bitter and unhappy all the time.  In fact, much of the time i am okay.  Sometimes i am even happy.  And sometimes i get mad and have ugly emotions. That's when you are likely to hear from me, which gives a skewed view of my life and mind.

It's just taking some time for me to adjust to....everything.  Being single after 35 years of couplehood is difficult, and interesting, and crushing and freeing.  I feel no need to rush in to another relationship.  Perhaps i'll never have another one, perhaps i will.  Truthfully, i hope i do.  But it is hard for me to imagine a man that will like me that i will like back.  But stranger things have happened.  I know how it's done these days, online.  I'm just not ready to go there. Yet.

Deb asked me what made me happy today.  Here's a list:

  • I have a job, three days a week.  Not for the money (although money is nice), but for a reason to get out of bed and be somewhere.  I like my job.  I feel valued and helpful and it's interesting and flexible.
  • Tonight's sunset is truly amazing.
  • Em is here, living with me.  She makes me laugh. Out loud.
  • My cat is old, but healthy. 
  • Some nights dinner is cereal, or crackers and cheese and apples.  And no one cares.
  • Some nights dinner is cookies.
  • I have some really wonderful and diverse friends. I want to expand on this because friends are the best.  Never forget that.
  • Pharmaceuticals.
  • Marijuana is legal in Washington.
  • Sleep.
  • Summer.
  • Real farm fresh eggs.
  • Basil.
  • I got 4 hugs today.
  • Tapering off pharmaceuticals.
  • The internet.
  • Did i mention friends?
  • A sign at a gas station today that read "YOUR ON VIDEO"  So clueless.

Knife to the heart. Plus stitches.


What made me sad today?  

Sharpening a knife.

When we bought the knife and the block and the sharpener (many years ago), we agreed that only one person would sharpen the knives, because of the angle of sharpening or some such.  So he always sharpened the knives, proudly, when i asked, as if it required some special skill.

What made me...angry today?

Remembering the first time when he wanted to leave me, 20 years ago, when he rejected my naked body, because i was being punished.  As if it were defective, which it is not. The embarrassment is what i remember.

A thing i heard today that i needed to hear:

Don't believe everything you think.

Amusing title


Tomorrow i am heading off at ass o'clock to fly to New York to help Em pack up her shit and then move back to the Northwest to live with me.

How did this happen?  Well, she tried living in NY and it wasn't for her.  And she tried having a job in NY in her field of interest and it wasn't for her. And so she's coming home to regroup and try again.  At least she will never look back at her life and say, "I wish i'd tried living in NY."

The Ex continues to confuse me.  He is very recently re-married, and yet he continues to contact me.  We actually met face-to face for the first time in over a year last weekend.  For me, it was awful.  The Eagles song "Lying Eyes" spontaneously erupted in my head.  I left abruptly and then devolved into tears, scaring my neighbors in the elevator on my way to my apartment.

He then sent me an email offering to come over and help me with the complicated electronic sound/video system.  I sent back a very blunt email saying that it was not good for me to see him and i preferred to interact through email only.  I was thinking he might be offended enough to stop contacting me, but nope.

I am ashamed to admit that it both comforts me (he still cares!!!) and makes me ill.  Because really, he doesn't care, he just wants to feel like an okay guy.

Which he isn't.



I learned a new word this week.  Incel.  It's an interwebs word for "Involuntary Celibacy".  

Yeah.  Look it up.

I have been referring  to myself as a Born Again Virgin.

I miss sex.  I know exactly the time i last had sex.  It was in Hawaii.  Over two years ago. It was good.  But, i guess, maybe only for me.  I didn't know at the time that it was the last time i would be having sex for a long time.

Two weeks later my not-yet-ex husband left me.  Two weeks without sex.  He was distant and uninterested.  I let it go because....tolerance.  But now i know why.

Yes, i suppose i could go out and get laid.  But i don't work that way.  I need to know a person in order to have sex with him.  (Yeah, sadly, i am heterosexual.)

Someday i hope to begin again.  Maybe sooner rather than later.

Etiquette Question


On Friday, i met Jackson for coffee.

What is the protocol for meeting with the man who is the ex-husband of the woman for whom your husband left you?  The woman who left him for your (now) ex-husband? Do you shake hands?  How does the conversation start?  Will the outcome be what we want? Is the meeting just an exercise in pricking open a barely healing wound?  Will there be copious bleeding?  Will i be sorry?  Will he be sorry?  Who THE FUCK knows?  Miss Manners never wrote about how to deal with this situation.

We talked for an hour and a half.  This is a man that i do not really know, but with whom i share an incredibly intimate experience.  I learned a lot about what happened.  Details of the extensive lying and cheating.  Things i had only suspected.  About how little regard either of the two cheaters had for past attachments, and for either of us.

I like knowing the truth, even if it hurts.

Meanwhile, my ex and Jackson's ex are off on their extensive, expensive honeymoon.  I wish them hell.

I'm glad i went.  And Jackson sent me a very nice email, thanking me for the meeting and saying that it had been helpful for him.  I will not likely see him again, but it's nice to know he's out there.

So much sadness and hurt because of two selfish, reckless people.



Last Friday night, the night before my ex-husband got married to the woman he left me for, i went to a concert with a friend.  Before the concert, we went to the Wild Ginger in Seattle for dinner.  No reservations.  Friday night.  We ended up sandwiched in at the bar.

Normally i would never do such a thing, but because we were practically thigh to thigh, i said something to the people sitting next to us.  You know, something like, "That drink looks good, what's in it?"

We continued chatting sporadically through the meal.  They were going to the same concert.  I offered my opinion on the house Manhattan (delicious!).  At the end of the meal, we were presented with a bill, which my friend and i paid.  Then we were presented with a second bill.  WTF? Turns out that the bar dude, in all the confusion, had given us the bill of the people we had been chatting with.

Hilarity ensued. They "Thanked" us for paying their bill, since their bill was more expensive.   While the bill issue was being sorted out, I made a comment that i had wanted to go hiking that day, but it had been too rainy.  Then i said "I am hoping for a plague of locusts tomorrow because my ex-husband is getting married."  (I had had two of the house Manhattans (delicious!).)

The man looks and me and says "Meno?"  I gaped at him.  He says "I am (the ex-husband's soon to be new wife)'s ex-husband."

"Jackson?"  i say.  I hadn't recognized him.


Of all the gin joints in all the towns......  What are the chances?

We talked some more after that, much more seriously,  and he gave me his contact information.

I don't believe in karma, or fate, but this might change my mind.

It will never happen


I want an apology.

I want you to apologize for lying to me, after promising several times that you would NEVER lie to me again, after being caught lying.

I want you to apologize for having sex with me, after having sex with someone else, such that i had to get tested for STDs.

I want you to apologize for that vacation in Hawaii, where you were lying the whole time, and planning your escape.  You retroactively ruined that vacation for both me and Em. where i had thought we had a good time.

I want you to apologize for lying to me, even when you were leaving.I don't want you to apologize for leaving, as i know you think you have found your Soul Mate, but for the way you left, making it easy for you, and the hardest for me.  You owed me more than that.

You are a coward.

Complete Misunderstanding


When I was much younger I used to be “hot” sexually speaking, tall, long hair, pretty face, thin.  I know that now, I didn’t know it then.  I am now too old to be “hot”. Which, as a natural product of time, is fine with me.But, as a “hot”, but naïve young woman, people, men, used to yell at me on the street.  From “Hey baby!” to “Wanna fuck?”I learned, quite quickly, to completely ignore these assaults (And I do mean assaults), pretending to be oblivious.  Once, a friend of mine, a gay man who lived in the same apartment complex as me, and also worked with me, yelled at me on the street.  And I, not knowing that this was someone I knew who was being playful, ignored him.When he caught up with me, he asked me why I was so “stuck up”.Did he not understand that being yelled at on the street does not feel like a compliment? You would think he would have known better.This was in the early 80s, does that make a difference?[...]

Pity, party of one


 Grief is a lonely emotion.

Grief is burning out my insides and making room for something new to grow.

I feel like i have something to tell you, but i keep typing words and then deleting them as too pathetic.

I am lonesome.  I've never lived alone before.  I find i don't much like it. 

This process i am going through feels endless.  I am told that it will get better, but i don't know when.  And besides, how can anyone know if it will get better?

To be honest, i am better, some of the time.  Em was home for a month and left early yesterday morning and i am missing her.  So that's why i am blue.  But hey, the two of us are going to Hawaii in less than two months. I'll try to keep that in mind.

Bonding and waiting



My baby girl turned 21 a month ago.  It's been a time for bonding moments.  I bought her her first legal drink (it was a martini!), and today we had our first mother-daughter trip to the liquor store.

It was so beautiful.


In other news:

I am waiting.  Waiting to feel a reduction in anxiety, waiting to feel free.  I realize it's a long process, but dammit all, i wish it would hurry.  So wanting to avoid writing the same old thing, i don't write at all.

I should be divorced by the end of January.  I just never saw myself as someone who would be divorced.  I know people who have has two and three (and sometimes more) spouses and i always felt (i hate to admit this, but i will) slightly superior.  And then fate came along to kick me right in my smug ass.

Peace to you all.

phone phool


Do you ever find yourself sounding like a dithering idiot on the phone?  I'm not an idiot, but man, today i sounded like one on the phone while trying to say "No, you can't come and be a volunteer here because we've got nothing for you to do." in a really nice, thank-you-for calling sort of way.

It's hard to say "No" in a positive way.  I guess i must think that the more words i use to say it, the nicer it will sound, thus the idiotic babbling.

Did you know that there's a support group for families of people who talk too much?  It's called On-and-on Anon.

Still Alive


Hi y'all.

I'm still alive.  I have one foot in hell and the other in purgatory, which counts as progress.

Still fighting anxiety and depression and loneliness and hurt feelings.  I think i'm winning though some days it's hard to tell.

Not divorced yet, but proceeding along that line.  So sad.  So, so sad.

Keeping very busy, that's my method for dealing with the feelings.  My therapist says i need to do more grieving and crying.  Perhaps. Perhaps.

What do i really have to tell you?  There's a long period of slowly moving onwards, slowly getting on with accepting the new normal.  My problem is that i just don't see how my loneliness will ever end.  Will anyone ever love me again?  Will i ever have another life partner?  I hope i do because i don't like being alone. The feeling that no one has my back makes me feel intensely vulnerable.  But what are the chances that a 54 year old woman will find true love?  Not high.

I really want to be able to look back over this time in my life and have it come out okay in the end.  I secretly want this story to have an uplifting ending.

A connection


In my family, as kids, my brothers and i were encouraged to make fun of each other.  Ganging up on whomever was the current odd man out, whomever had done something stupid (as kids often do) or whomever was being ridiculous (as kids often are).

When it was me being ridiculed, i hated it, and it felt like there was no escape, no safe place to go and collect myself.  When it was not me, i participated gladly, thankful that it wasn't me.

The maddest i get as an adult is when i feel stupid.  That's when i lose my shit and start throwing things. 

At the time of this temper losing, i feel unable to stop, like i am under attack and have to defend myself.  My brain time travels back to that stupid-feeling child and becomes her again.

This is not an unimportant observation.