(two times, two times)

A song can be the best time machine ever. Instantly whisk a girl back to a time, long forgotten.

Killing Me Softly is playing on the radio. The Lauryn Hill version. That I vividly remember from my New York days, the days when I earnestly entered Corporate America complete with my M.B.A.. The nostalgia that coursed through my veins surprised me. The longing to be back in my Manhattan days with today's knowledge. To be fear free. To have shaken the timid college girl free. To have the opportunity to have the Me now in the shoes of the Me then.

But by the same token, I am glad that I found that I could express myself (sometimes maybe too much) here in Austin. Here in the heart of Texas during my thirties. To be safe and secure enough to fly the flag that is me. The good. The bad. The ugly. The fabulous shoes.

Here in Austin, over the course of almost four years, I have learned to be myself again. My true self. I have learned to be 100% okay with myself for who I am down to my very core. The fancy shoes. Dressing to the nines. But at the end of the day being true to myself. And that is all that matters. I have found myself after being dreadfully lost during my married years. Forgetting about the small shards that are essential in making me me. Above all else, knowing that no one else like me will ever walk this earth again. And I stayed true to that drummer who's beat I faithfully follow. Even through the darkness.

While this past year has been filled with an awful lot of downs, challenges, and obstacles, I made it through. I made it closer to being in synch with my true self. Honestly, this year, I lost friends over my work schedule and various perceptions. It has been tough. Sadly, I know that 2011 will commence with awkward friend-loss dynamics coming into play. But somehow the phoenix part of my Scorpio nature reminds me that sometimes death is required before rebirth can occur. And I am a-okay with that!

The best is yet to come!

easy for you to say

Last night I indulged in the movie, Love and Other Disasters. It is a Brittany Murphy where she plays Emily 'Jacks' Jackson who is a Brit that works at Vogue U.K. A very cute little flick. But when Jacks was speaking to her gay best friend, Peter Simon about love, their exchange struck a chord with me:

Jacks: Stop living your life like you're in some kind of movie.



Peter: Excuse me?


Jacks: Stop trying to cast your love instead of just meeting him.


Peter: When I meet him, I'll know.


Jacks: I'm not so sure. Love isn't always a lightning bolt, you know? Maybe sometimes it's just a choice.


Peter: Well, that's easy for you to say! You're flying to Argentina to meet the love of your life!


Jacks: That's just it. I don't know that Paolo's the love of my life, but I've decided to give him the chance to be. Maybe true love is a decision. You know, a decision to take a chance with somebody. To give to somebody. Without worrying whether they'll give anything back. Or if they're gonna hurt you, or if they really are the one. Maybe love isn't something that happens to you. Maybe it's something you have to choose.


Peter: So what do I do?


Jacks: Well, you could start by putting all of those fantasies of true love where they belong, into your work of fiction.

The fantasy of love versus love's reality. Truly a view to be pondered. How many times do I dream and ask for the happily ever after, to ride off into the sunset with Prince Charming? But, honestly, love is a choice. While there might be lightening bolts on certain occasions, ultimately I have to make a choice to let love back in.
 
Lately I have been wondering about when exactly, I chose to push love out. I made that decision somewhere during and between The Leech and Montana Man. Hell, why call it a decision; I shut down completely.
 
But the problem is that since I successfully accomplished the mission of locking down and securing the perimeter many years ago, re-opening the town for business is difficult. I am so weary and disinterested. The girl who would go on a date with anyone one time isn't bouncing right back. Need to get myself open and willing again. Yes, I need to make a new choice. A choice to be loved.

unlisted

Last week, I received a weird voice mail on both my office and mobile phones. It was an unsolicited call from a man who explained that he works for a large company and would like to speak to me about networking. Networking?! Seriously? Like any skeptical girl, I ignored the calls. In fact, I was rather disturbed that he had both my office and mobile number since neither is widely available.

Today, I received another round of inquiries from this man. As I was at my desk rushing to leave for an off-site meeting, I answered my desk phone. I hastily agreed to speak with him tomorrow. Later when I listened to my mobile messages, he stated that he would like to speak about my background and employment opportunities with his company. Aha! So that is the point of tomorrow's call.

However, I remain slightly confused as I have not actively searched for a job outside of my company for twelve years. How this man stumbled upon my details baffles me and will certainly be one of my first questions. I am quite flattered though at the fact that I am actually being recruited. Especially now, at a time when so many people are vying for jobs.

It may be nothing. It may be the start of something new and exciting.

it's all the rage

Traveling, whether for business or pleasure, has always been a part of my life. My parents forced me to camp. Every other year, our family unit went to the Big Apple to see my father's family. I vividly remember the non-stop flights from Denver to New York - we typically flew TWA and the smokers would be huddled in the boot of the plane veiled in a cloud of smoke as I tried to make my way to the loo. I also remember my brother puking on those flights too. Of course, any transportation that moved combined with his propensity to overeat led to a childhood flowing with vomit.

But my brother, the puker has nothing to do with what I am struggling with now. These days I am dealing with a hound dog suffering from severe separation anxiety. You see, my dear Lulu returned from her fall kennel visits with this over-the-top anxiety issue. I brought a healthy hound to the doggie day spa and they returned a nervous wreck who shakes at the mere thought I might leave the room. Of course the doggie day spa claims nothing happened while under their care.... umm, yeah, right, I am so believing their convincing performance. Lulu has been kenneled on a regular basis since I adopted her because mommy must travel! We have never had any kennel mishaps until arriving in Texas. Something is definitely rotten in the outskirts of Austin.

Needless to say, Lulu had to see to a second vet to determine what to do. The answer? Prozac. Yes, my little Nervous Nellie is officially on anti-depressants. Giggling every step of the way, I took the canine prescription to Wally World where the pharmacist informed me that I'd "be surprised by how many Austin dogs are on Prozac." Sadly, much like in humans, it takes awhile for the levels to build, which means that I still have a ball of unbridled nerves on my hands. Each day I pray faithfully to the Prozac gods that today will be the day that relief comes. Not so much for the dog, mind you, but for me because I live in terror of what Lulu might do to herself while not under adult supervision. I can only drink so much wine to calm my nerves.

I now plan my schedule around the dog. However, I am not pleased at that, but I do love her. As Lulu's ninth birthday nears, she is trying my last nerve. I truly wish she would just muster up the words to tell me what bad thing happened while mommy was gallivanting in strange lands. Hopefully the Prozac kicks in soon or I might be forced to promise The Dog Whisper anything he wants. And in my desperate state, Cesar will get all that he wants. No questions asked.

yea, though i walk along the ridge

I walk along a narrow, winding ridge in the valley of men. Super Dad continues to keep me company along the way. He is super sweet and genuinely cares about me. Honestly, if it wasn't for his mystery illness, I would be there with him. 100%. But until Super Dad can get back to leading a normal, fully engaged life, I cannot commit myself. I must be true to me. I must continue my active life and I need a partner that can take life head-on with me.

I haven't been able to disengage with Super Dad because I keep believing this mystery illness is temporary. That it is simply a matter of finding the right doctor because the cause is so easy to diagnose. Why must the cure be so elusive? I don't know if I am doing either of us more harm than good.

Lately Super Dad has been throwing in marriage comments into random parts of our conversations. A simple example of a day when I am not into playing along:
Patsy:  I had the day from hell. People are stupid.
Super Dad:  You can't solve the world's problems, honey, but you should seriously consider marrying me.
Patsy:  *blinks at phone* What does that have to do with anything?
Super Dad:  Everything. You should seriously consider marrying me.

I have been rather baffled at the frequency of this "marry me" chatter. It feels so abrupt. Almost in the vein of "marry me because I am going to die in six months". But I know Super Dad's problem is not fatal. Inconvenient, yes. A complete and utter annoying pain, literally and figuratively.

The next time Super Dad broaches the big "m" word, I am going to inquire as to the root of this obsession. I should stop trying to read between the lines and just find out the answer. My balance is good, my feet are stable along the ridge. I will inquire about what drives certain topic in the valley of men.

spanks of success

I have always know that I am a blessed/lucky woman. For the most part, I have my act together. I can dress myself, have a good eye for color, know what looks best on my curvy figure. There is a brain ticking away upstairs and I possess a good sense of humor. However, what I view as the most important facet of being me is that I am humble.

Life-sucking vampire project is complete. I successfully finished it, even though there were moments I thought it might slay me. I won the well-deserved laurel wreath. As a result of my success, I was given a new position, which was a promotion (although I did not receive any monetary raise that one would think normally comes with a promotion). I was completely thrilled to receive this new opportunity and there are times I catch myself thinking it is dream. However, until this week, I did not realize the colossalness of my new job. It is an entry level executive position of sorts. People have been congratulating me with caveats along the lines of "I have to be super nice to you now because you're important". Me? Little old me. I continue to have a difficult time with those comments.

Every day I pull on my spanks to keep everything in place and slip my dress on over my head, the same as everyone else. The learning curve is significantly steeper than I anticipated. Frustration is running deep and fast because I feel lost. I am constantly reminding myself that I felt the exact same frustration when I started the life-sucking vampire project. This too shall pass, Patsy. I want to be stellar, have happy customers.

I am no one special. I am simply a girl with an unwavering drive to succeed. High hopes for making the new gig as shining super star success like the life-sucking vampire project (with no life sucking this time!).

you say 'esparagus', i hit the delete key

Oh the humanity!

Why such a claim, you may ask?

Online dating. Otherwise known as "the attempt to".

Profile after profile, I become more disheartened. I have come to accept decade old photographs, run-on sentences, and violent misuse and comprehension of the dear little apostrophe. However, the list of things that drive me batty is growing. Two items have particularly spun me up lately - the clear avoidance of SPELL CHECK and the Holy Rollers.

While not all of us are editors, maybe slept through basic high school English class, we all have that little red squiggly line that alerts us when a word is misspelled on our computer screen. Even if you are color blind and cannot see the flaming red color, we all know the simple visual cue for a possible spelling error. So when writing to attract a potential mate, why do these men fail to right-click and correct the error? Case in point - when answering a question about food that was despised as a child but enjoyed now, the answer was "esparagus" (sic). Just typing that word hurts. Asparagus! Asparagus!

If dreadful spelling weren't enough, there has been a rising in the number of Holy Roller profiles. I cannot read another sentence stating, "I am a God-fearing man who wants to meet a God-fearing woman", I may very well become a nun. It is great that these men believe or even claim to believe, but that is their sole defining attribute and there has got to be more than that to a man I want to meet. I certainly don't believe these men would be rather open to my belief system that is a beautiful mosaic of truths I have found throughout my life. These Holy Rolling men's profiles are very black and white on the religious stuff and while many facets of my life contain black and white views, my religious side is many different shades of gray.

So I continue to read a handful of profiles daily. I have shifted my focus on the entertainment value and attempting to remain hopeful that one day soon, I will go out on a date or two. Not a lifetime commitment, but a spark of jolly good fun for a little while.

a new season

It is almost a week since I have returned from my North Africa adventure. I celebrated my 36th birthday in Djerba, Tunisia. The Med, the Sahara, and everything in between. It was a magnificent country and yet another experience that left a long-last mark on my being.

The people, the landscape, the way of life, it all captivated me to a level I did not anticipate. The more I travel, the more I see (and I have seen an awful lot for my age), the more the world make sense in some weird way. We, as humans, are all alike, regardless of our race, creed, religion, or sex. Language doesn't serve as a barrier to communication; a smile does more than words.

During this trip, I thought about my old traveling companion (now dead), Helen constantly. I was reminded of our last trip to Cambodia. During that time, American travellers were a rarity but the few small lessons Helen taught me were like a tape on repeat in my mind during Tunisia. Things I learned from Helen:

• Smile. Always smile.
• Wave, especially at children as they need to know that travellers are capable of kindness.
• Always, always say hello; preferable in their language, but when in doubt a good old fashioned 'hello' works.

The compassion Helen instilled in me is something I am eternally grateful for. I had so many wonderful encounters and subsequent memories because I faithfully followed Helen's guidance. While I miss Helen greatly, it felt wonderful to have her still encircling me on my latest holiday.

click

Cherry left today. She has been my house guest for a week and a half. I miss her already and Cherry has only been out of my presence since 1 PM. Sometimes, there is simply that 'click' between friends; regardless of how long our last conversation has been, we simply pick up like it hasn't been more than a day since we last spoke. I love friendships like that.

warning: october ice storm

A silly little drunk text on Saturday evening led to Super Dad sending me a whopper of a nasty text on Sunday afternoon. A nasty text that cut through me. Ah! The infinite power of words.

I haven't spoken to him since; however, I decided to overlook my stubborn scorpio ways and place a call to Super Dad a few minutes ago.

His voice. The lightness, the happiness was gone. He only asked a few questions about work and quickly ended the call.

His voice is still ringing through my mind. It was so completely different, so completely dead.

I find myself much sadder than I anticipated I would be at this very moment.

I knew Super Dad could be cold but I honestly thought he would never show me the full wrath of his ice storm.

While I may be strong on the outside, I truly am a very sensitive person. I am extraordinarily protective of who and what I let in. I don't know what hurts worse - the written words or the cold tone.

I wish there was some way I could tie this up with a pretty little bow, singing that the sun will come out tomorrow, and onward ho! And, yes, the warm Texas sun will be in full force tomorrow and the day after that too. I simply wish that I could face the world with such perennial optimism again, but I feel myself growing jaded and I don't want to be.

love, hate, and the real english patient

Holiday preparation is in full swing here. I have been eating up history in the form of books, documentaries, and films to educate myself about the destination. Saturday evening's education was a critically acclaimed film, The English Patient.

Yes, I live in a bubble because prior to Saturday night, I had never seen the film. Once I started university, my movie watching plummeted and really never recovered from the fall. I watched intently for both storyline and locations; feeling the swell of excitement as the realization struck that yes, I will be there and maybe Ralph Fiennes will be waiting in the Sahara Desert to take me away from this dreary place. I'd even be happy for Colin Firth or Naveen Andrews to ride up on a camel with an outstretched hand to whisk me away. 

The line that struck a chord with me was when Count Laszlo de Almasy asked Katharine Clifton, "What do you love.... say everything". She answered with a myriad of loved objects. I have found that question bopping around in my head since. What do I love?

• I love my hounds - seeing the brightness in their eyes, the delightful smile emanating from their entire beings.
• I love the spark of happiness that dances across the eyes of someone (friend, lover, or acquaintance) I am meeting. To see the moment of genuine happiness is bliss.
• Hearing a man say my name. Bonus points for an accent - quite frankly, any accent.
• I love roller coasters and potato chips.
• I love vodka, coffee, salsa, a good pair of shoes, and fabulously unusual jewelry.
• That I am comfortable with my own style and love expressing it. I have always followed my own drummer and the bravery to be true to myself.
• I can take care of myself; the double edged sword of self-reliance.
• Flowers blooming in the garden.
• Being surrounded by the various little reminders of holidays.
• I love the airport and the giddy feeling that anything is possible and within reach when a boarding pass is in my hand.
• I love that I am willing to try new things, go places, and experience the many facets of this wonderful life.

Almasy then inquired, "What do you hate most?"

• Jealousy. Jealousy and the negative things it makes people do. I absolutely hate jealousy.

Now, it's your turn. What do you love? Say everything.

living a lie, southern style

In a little over a month, I will turn 36 years old. That particular number is quite ghastly to me. I remember being a wee yipper-snapper thinking 36 was old. Now, it is on my door step.

But while the entire upcoming birthday saga will surely be discussed at length (I am certain), today's topic is the simple fact that while I was in Peru, I learned that I have been living a lie for the past almost 36 years.

Yes. A. Lie.

While on holiday over dinner at a five-star restaurant, I learned that I have been living a lie; deceived since childhood by a woman I call "mother".

No, I am not adopted nor is my real daddy the mailman; I am a south paw!

Picture it: Lima - on a cool spring evening enjoying a truly South American culinary masterpiece dinner when the conversation somehow moves from the guinea pig entree description to my noticing how my father crosses his fingers.

Traveling back in time.... several years ago I went to a palm reader who had me cross my fingers. She asked my hand orientation, to which I replied I am right handed. She noted that my left thumb sat dominant atop my right thumb. I never thought about it but when she asked me to reverse my thumbs, it did feel awfully odd. This palm reader informed me I was left handed. Quite frankly, I never dwelled upon this fact until a few weeks ago seated at dinner when I noticed the positioning of my father's fingers.

Back to dinner in Lima: I ask my father if he is left or right handed. While I remember him as right handed, I asked because at that moment I noticed that his left thumb was placed atop is right. His response shocked me. He is left handed but his mother forced him to be right handed. Growing up, whenever he grabbed anything with his left hand, his dominant hand, his mother forced him to use his right hand.

Then he turned the questioning on to me, why had I asked? I explained that I too crossed my fingers like him and looking at my mother asked if she had done like my father's mother and forced me to be right handed. The woman looked like a trapped rat stating she remembered forcing me use my right hand but at the time it didn't dawn on her that I was left handed. Of course, that is the important caveat she would reiterate the entire night. Then she went on say that she did me a favor because the world is built for righties, not lefties.

I don't care about what she did; however, my mother ostensibly defended her decision to "make" me right handed for my own good. It certainly explains a lot about my ambidextrous tendencies. While I use my right hand, my immediate impulse always triggers left. The subtle undercurrent that my mother could not rid me of.

Funny, the little things one learns about herself in a brief moment in a strange land. Travelling reveals so much more than the differences that lie above the surface.

clocks

this particular coldplay song has been everywhere in my life lately... wonder what it means....

The lights go out and I can't be saved
Tides that I tried to swim against
Have brought me down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead singing

Come out of things unsaid
Shoot an apple off my head
And a trouble that can't be named
A tiger's waiting to be tamed singing

You are
You are

Confusion never stops
Closing walls and ticking clocks
Gonna come back and take you home
I could not stop that you now know singing

Come out upon my seas
Cursed missed opportunities
Am I a part of the cure?
Or am I part of the disease? Singing

You are
You are
You are
You are

You are
You are

And nothing else compares
And nothing else compares
And nothing else compares

You are
You are

Home, home where I wanted to go
Home, home where I wanted to go
Home, home where I wanted to go
Home, home where I wanted to go

lessons learned applied

The most important lessons I learned during my marriage and subsequent divorce are to never say never and never make any assumptions or judgements. I never thought I'd be deceived and led to the path of divorced. I never thought that my divorce would be judged so harshly by bystanders assuming that I was the problem and The Leech was innocent. No one outside our failed marriage truly knows the hell I endured; hence, I make no assumptions because unless I am in your kitchen night after night, I don't know what truly goes on behind your closed door. After all, we can all be Oscar caliber actresses, if we really try to play our societal role with passion.

About a year after my divorce, a few girlfriends harassed me into trying on-line dating. Fearlessly I put myself out there meeting frog after frog, until I met Montana Man and I thought I truly found bliss. The Montana Man story played out it's sad song and I swore off internet dating. I said never again.

Never again turned into trying it again briefly last fall. I hadn't been on a date in forever and thought maybe it would be different in Texas. I had to recant my already learned lesson of never saying never because I gave online dating another go. I hate being a hypocrite and had to fess up to a few friends that I had recanted my moratorium on this arena; which was another marriage and divorce lesson: happily owning my share of the responsibility in failure (or in this case, recanting my "never" statement).

The internet dating fiasco is referred to as such because it was a fiasco. While I did not quoteth nevermore, I haven't pursued it until recently when I simply trolled around a little bit. Sadly though, my heart simply is not in it. I look because I am know I am ready for something but I don't want to put the effort into meeting someone (no matter what the ad or photos say) that has misrepresented himself. I am tired of the weeding process. I am tired of panning for gold because I only find a pile of dirty old rocks.

Of course, you may be confused because Super Dad is in the tapestry of my life. He is and he isn't. I have not seen the man otherwise known as Super Dad since the end of May. We are now entering what I can officially deem as the END. OF. SEPTEMBER.

Sure Super Dad has been battling his physical aliments. He's spent quality time at the Mayo Clinic day spa; not to mention plenty of money for that Mayo visit. But absence can only make the Patsy heart grow fonder for so long. We are officially entering the out-of-sight-out-of-mind phase. Yes, he calls me several times a day. But phone calls cannot make up for staring at each other's eyeballs. To be honest, I am not even concerned with the concept of sex. I miss simply seeing him. I miss hearing "you look beautiful today". I miss spending time with him. I miss running to Starbucks with him. I miss him and the basic daily human interaction piece of the love equation that has been missing for four months.

There are a few things I know for sure along with my previously mentioned marriage/divorce lessons and another insight I gained is that a telephone does not replace or equate to spending time with a potential mate-like person. Yes, Super Dad's lapse in physical health has become a big factor and maybe it will be a deciding factor. But I haven't seen him in four months. I asked him to come out here to spend some time with me and away from his house as I truly feeling the change of scenery will do wonders for him. To date, he has made zero progress in securing a ticket. All I get is lip service.

Another thing I learned from my marriage that was a leading factor in the divorce decision - words are meaningless; actions are everything. It is all about the follow through. If Super Dad doesn't feel well enough, then come clean with me - be honest - be truthful - but don't string me along because you "still haven't gotten your colonoscopy scheduled". Seriously?! This girl starts smelling rats when the words and actions go in paths that run counter to each other. Honesty goes much further with me than telling me what you think I want to hear. I am too smart, no matter what your motive is (i.e., to protect me), to fall for pretty words strung together with catch phrases like "I miss you", "Don't mesmerize any Peruvian men", and "Come home to Atlanta". Statements like that need to followed up with "When exactly do you want me to come out to see you" or "I would prefer to stay in Atlanta near my doctors but you come out here instead".

Maybe men don't work like that though. Maybe it is a Mars versus Venus thing. Maybe I am too much of a straight shooter - direct, to the point. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. A whole lot of maybes. A whole lot of rationalizations. A bunch of excuses. But at the end of the day, I see the outcome, regardless of the words, is the same: no plans to see each other in the month of September. As a extension of September, my October was basically booked before we got together. The honest answer is that our next real opportunity to spend time together is mid-November. At that point, it will be six months since we will have seen each other and honestly I don't know that I can build a relationship on that.

I suppose the old saying is correct - hope for the best and prepare for the worst. Or more importantly, I am applying my lessons learned - the words and the actions are not adding up which leads to serious speculation. When is Prince Charming going to knock on my door?

back on the air

While I am delighted to be back home, I thoroughly enjoyed my Peruvian adventure. The country, the people were so much more than I had expected and anticipated. Being able to speak broken Spanish made the adventure all the more enjoyable, especially when bargaining for costume jewelry at the ferias.

I returned home to Texas realizing all that I take for granted on a daily basis; all the creature comforts that surround me. But then I look at life in the Sacred Valley; a simple life devoid of the manufactured stressors that give me gray hairs. Maslow's hierarchy in motion before my eyes. Which is better? From the smiles on the locals faces and the warmth of heart that emanated from them, I think they may have an advantage.

I am slowing slipping back into every day life; however, I am attempting to keep a reign on the work-life balance stuff. The work will always be there; other fleeting life moments may not. Luckily I have several hundred memories to transport me back.

is this the end?

I sit here tonight wondering if my time with Super Dad is over. I find that I am no longer concerned when he does not call. My heart doesn't go pitter-pat when phone does ring. I am simply lukewarm.

Maybe my attitude is due to the illness. Maybe because we haven't seen each other in three months. I don't know. I find myself wondering about my intense love of travel and his seeming indifference. I am over the moon regarding my upcoming South America and North Africa adventures; Super Dad hasn't said about either.

Of course, at the ranch, various ranchers discuss their marriages and I find myself thinking "I wouldn't respond to that in that manner" and often times find myself saying "that's why I am alone." Fast-forward to the very thought of Super Dad and I cohabiting and I can see danger flares. Our approach to our dogs is vastly different. My Lulu is my baby, my child that passionately protect and care for; Super Dad's dog is exactly that - a dog, who is on a rigid schedule in all aspects of his boring little canine life. Flower Children versus Military Lock-down. Two vastly different worlds that are fairly comfortable in their separate worlds.

I think between the Mayo stuff, the Edina Debacle (to be discussed later), truly looking at what life is like in Atlanta, and simply being exhausted has me honestly second guessing the Super Dad affair. Maybe everything will become clear when I am oxygen deprived in Andes.

pop! goes the champagne cork!

Since Friday, there has been emotional upheaval everywhere. I won't get into it all right now because I simply don't have the energy for unnecessary drama anymore.

But in goodness, today was Super Dad's first full day at the Mayo. While there were some moments for concern, at the end of it all, the Mayo was all positive goodness. I was relieved during our early evening phone call. Based on the story relayed to me, there is a light at the end of this tunnel. It makes me so happy for him.

The prospect of a life with manageable pain. Answers as opposed to narcotics. Living life to its fullest again. That is what Super Dad needs, what he truly does deserve. I am grateful tonight. I am thankful tonight. Here is my little Austin bungalow tonight, I celebrated with champagne. Because hope is everything.

struggles

Tonight Super Dad and I spoke for awhile. My day had a few ups and downs; sadly, his day was all downs. I was the only phone call he would accept tonight. Yes, his day was that bad. A bad day when bad things just mount on top of each other in rapid succession. It is in those moments, when I learn about this upheaval in full motion that I find myself wondering about "us".

Why? Because I am not there physically present there for him. I am a voice on the phone, not a pair of eyes to look into. I am a voice on the phone, not someone who can hug him. I am a voice on the phone who cannot hold his hand while I reassure him that everything will be okay. I am a thirty minute phone call, not a regular presence.

the blink of an eye

Today is my anniversary. Fourteen years ago today I started with my company. I was 21 years old, fresh out of undergrad. It was only supposed to be small diversion between undergrad and grad school. However, upon completing grad school, I continued working there, finding new opportunities and began traveling the United States.

Fast forward to today, fourteen years later. I am now 35 and frankly I am amazed at how far I have come. The timid, shy girl has given way to a confident professional who isn't afraid to speak her mind and stand her ground. There have been a few key individuals who have been instrumental in helping me find and use my voice. Some individuals, from a purely superficial view, appeared to be the least likely candidates, but they saw my potential - sometimes under conditions when even I couldn't see it or feel it. And to those special people, my eternal gratitude is yours.

What does the future, my future hold? If it is anything like this past fourteen, then adventure is mine to have and life is mine to seize. What I have learned is to trust myself, remain true to my soul, continue to do my best to live fearlessly, embracing adventure.

up and down

Good news!

Super Dad's case has been accepted to the Mayo! He will be scheduled next week! Absolutely wonderful news after a hellacious week. Something is finally on the upswing. Much needed after a downers morning of a draining week.

More later as I am utterly and completely exhausted.

energizer bunny

Ways I re-charge:

* Happening on a practically free bargain on something I have been hunting for
* Sleeping for an entire weekend
* Getting my passport stamped

I recently made my 2010 holiday reservations. Two fall holidays as my original plans for a spring holiday and a fall holiday were killed by the life-sucking-vampire project. Under a use-it-or-lose-it holiday plan, use it I will indeed!

While I am excited about both locations, I continue to get exponential excited about my return to North Africa. I cannot wait to hear the call to prayer echo through the air. To see a way of life so completely different than my own. Feel the thrill that full communication via only a smile can bring. To re-charge my long dead batteries doing what I love - being a stranger in a strange land.

The countdown begins...

the pain of super dad

I know what I am about to write is a conversation I need to have with Super Dad. But for some reason, I haven't been able to conduct this exchange yet. I suppose because I don't want it to be real but it is as it is impacted both Super Dad's life and therefore my life as well.

Super Dad is sick. You see, five or six years ago, Super Dad had prostrate cancer and it was removed via laparoscopic surgery. As a result of this surgery, Super Dad endured pain attacks because several nerve bundles were damaged - so much for state of the art. Around the office, people always stated Super Dad had a super pain tolerance as he was constantly in pain. I never inquired as to the details.

As our relationship evolved, Super Dad told me about the initial bout of prostrate cancer and the resulting pain. He shared that he'd had surgery at the Jacksonville Mayo Clinic about 1 1/2 years ago for the resulting pain and that did the trick.

Mid-June the radiating pain came back and it is back with a vengeance. He hasn't been able to work or find pills that work to dull the pain without knocking him out and rendering him useless. Two weeks ago, Super Dad finally shared with the depth of the situation - he has a minimum of one pain attach daily that lasts for approximately four hours. During that time, he cannot move, sit up - basically he cannot do anything but lay there and ride it out. I had no idea. The pain is 50% worse than it was pre-Jacksonville surgery.

So here I sit in Austin, while he is battling this alone in Georgia. He has told me he doesn't want me to see him like this but I do not like him being alone. The best doctors in Georgia cannot provide him any answers or relief. As a result, Super Dad has started the process to be seen at the big Mayo Clinic. I hope beyond hope that the Mayo's best and brightest have a plan because living a life eating oxycontin is not the answer.

I never thought Super Dad and I would have a conversation where he would tell me "the side effect of these pills are that they will take years off my life". I am having a hard enough time processing the pain issue but to add that there is no answer and the feeble options carry deadly consequences, I simply want to scream.

Before Super Dad moved off our account in May, he told me that he wished we would have gotten together soon, that he wouldn't have bothered with the woman he was seeing around Thanksgiving and I would have lost Bolt sooner, so we would have had that much more time together. At the time I told him I looked at it as better late than never. But now with him being incapacitated to some level, I think back on his statement often.

While he is 18 years my senior and has this serious health issue, I keep coming back to how much fun we had together for six months, adding in the way he makes me laugh, he understands me, genuinely cares and loves me. None of us make it out of this alive. I ask myself would I rather know ten years of bliss and pure happiness than never have that wonderment in my life? I think about Alexander - how cancer struck him at 32 years old and his fabulous boyfriend has stayed by his side unwavering about the 'what ifs'. I always come back to the things I love about Super Dad and the way I feel when I hear his voice. I don't believe that this wonderful, long-awaited man would have been sent to cross my path briefly.

I despise the feeling of helplessness that is permeating me. We are far apart and I hate that I cannot just pop in on him after work to check on him; I cannot take him to his doctor appointments; I cannot be there daily to simply be there with him so he doesn't have to endure this alone. I feel that I am letting him down.

Nothing in my life is ever simple and straightforward. However, this time - just this one time - I truly wish it would be. I am ready for the happily ever after.

holding tight to the memories

Small children and animals have always had an affinity towards my father and me. Knowing this small tidbit, let's go back in time to early spring 1997. I was 21 years old, finished undergrad the previous spring and was living at home with my parents while in graduate school.

There was a family that lived on my parents' block that we referred to as "the garbage people". The meaning behind the name was two-fold as the father worked for a waste management company and their consistent appearance was quite dingy. Another distinctive characteristic of this family was that they like baby animals, they'd always have some kitten or puppy and once the pet grew up, they'd neglect it or get rid of it. Being an over-the-top animal lover, the garbage people's behavior always angered me.

Some time in November or December 1996, we began to notice a little gray cat roaming. We remembered the garbage people had a gray kitten earlier in the year and assumed that was a garbage cat. Winter turned into spring and my father noticed the little gray cat was living in a small crevice that was worn away under the next door neighbor's front cement steps. This little gray cat was thin, so my father bought cat food and started leaving a bit of the food out in front of our house. The little gray cat ate the food and began to slowly warm up to my father and me as we would stay outside and call it. It wasn't too long after the first nibbles of food that I remember vividly - in fact, it is one of my clearest memories, each moment and feeling forever burned into my mind - sitting on the front step and that little gray cat jumped into my lap and sat there, letting me pet her.

From that moment, she was our cat. I named her Alley Cat. When I took her to the vet, I learned she was 1 1/2 to 2 years old already and spayed to boot. Upon sighting the garbage people's gray cat, we knew this little girl was a stray. She was always very loving and we never could understand why her owners never looked for her. From the beginning, my parents made it abundantly clear that there were rules around our new family member; the most important being the condition that Alley was my cat and when I was done with grad school and settled, she would have to live with me; she was my cat. Alley quickly settled into life at my parents. She roamed the yard and the block; she was an outdoor cat. Even in the winter, Alley would enjoy spending her days outside in the sun, coming in only when she absolutely had to. Being on her own for those few months, Alley learned how to kill birds and mice to survive. We always joked that much like a vampire, she had acquired a taste for blood and fresh meat during that time and that instinct always remained with her. In fact, we always laughed that birds put out the message to stay clear of our yard or face certain death at the claws and jaws of Alley Cat because over the years, birds became non-existent in my parents' yard.

Then six years later, I was officially settled. I was married, bought a home, and had a job that only required minimal travel. The conditions were right for Alley Cat to come live with me, fulfilling the promise I made back in 1997 when Alley first jumped into my lap and into my heart. Well, as you can imagine, my parents would not give her to me. They fretted that she'd try walking back to their house and I'd forget to feed her; therefore, those two reasons were enough for my parents to refuse to hand over the cat. It was after that I ended up adopting my Lulu hound.


But Alley Cat always remembered me and would meow hello even though I had those two ghastly dogs in tow that loved to harass her but she'd always leave one of them, always Lulu, bleeding with a minor claw scratch.

This morning my dad called me to tell me that my little Alley Cat died. I am heartbroken. She was about 15 years old and had been sick. My Alley Cat died quietly on the front step, the exact place where she first entered my heart.

I think back to all the times when I cried in my room and she always came be comfort me, forcing my hand with her soft nose, resorting to her sandpaper licks if I was truly crushed. Alley is the only pet I have ever had that was so in tune and vocal when I was upset. Sometimes, she was more understanding than any other human. When I was home this spring, I could feel that she was losing weight but that never stopped her from meowing at me and spending lots of time on my lap.

Good bye, my girl, my Alley Cat.

Balancing Act

Welcome to the world of introspection. 

Latest topic swirling around in my brain is balance. Not inner ear, vertigo balance. I am talking about work-life balance. Particularly the fact that I have none. All work. No life. Where is the balance in that?! 

Work and various other little health issues (to be discussed later) have meant that is has been six weeks since Super Dad and I have seen each other. My life centers around work these days and the drain is truly getting to me. 

I basically picked up my little non-existent Colorado life over three years ago and planted myself in Austin. All prompted by my job, seeking a land of opportunity. While things have been super peachy in the job realm, my personal life has suffered since the fall. Prior to and since coming down here, I have not had a proper relationship with a man. There was the delusion of The Southern Gentleman for awhile. But I haven't met anyone down here. 

Then enter Super Dad stage right. Because of our profession, work related travel is a necessary evil. But with that understanding, that I am on the road, how do I have a "normal" relationship? How do I have a relationship that is not long distance? And no, the answer is not 'find a new job'. 

I sit here realizing I have and continue to give my whole self to a company. That is pretty messed up. I need to start reclaiming my life without sacrificing my hard earned success. And that is the hard part - tempering my drive for success without paying for it with my blood and little pieces of my soul. 

I don't know to accomplish this; it is a road I've never traveled on. But there is more to me than the life sucking vampire project. I would love to see if Super Dad and I could make a go of it. I would love to be able to come home to him and ask "how was your day?" - in person and not over the mobile phone. 

Maybe this means I am finally ready to settle down and be a touch domesticated. Or maybe it is just the random musings of a physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted girl. I just know there has to be more to life than work - sleep - repeat. I need to remember what balance looks like and find it again.

Reminder

I needed this reminder today... and thought maybe you could too...


Maya Angelou's Phenomenal Woman


Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.


Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Book Review: My Sister's Voice

Thanks to my day job, I am slightly overdue to share my book review on Mary Carter's latest novel, My Sister's Voice.

From marycarterbooks.com: What do you do when you discover your whole life was a lie? In Mary Carter’s unforgettable new novel, one woman is about to find out. . .

At twenty-eight, Lacey Gears is exactly where she wants to be. An up-and-coming, proudly Deaf artist in Philadelphia, she’s in a relationship with a wonderful man and rarely thinks about her difficult childhood in a home for disabled orphans. That is, until Lacey receives a letter that begins, “You have a sister. A twin to be exact…”

Learning her identical, hearing twin, Monica, experienced the normal childhood she was denied resurrects all of Lacey’s grief, and she angrily sets out to find Monica and her biological parents. But the truth about Monica’s life, their brief shared past, and the reason for the twins’ separation is far from simple. And for every one of Lacey’s questions that’s answered, others are raised, more baffling and profound.

Mary weaves a fascinating story that quickly drew me into the lives of Lacey Gears and her twin, Monica Bowman. The mere thought of learning of an unknown adult sibling's existence, let alone an identical twin felt so real through each sister's perspective. A Deaf sister, a hearing sister and the processing of that vast difference in conjunction with being raised so different - abandoned versus privileged.

While each sister grew up separated, Mary did an excellent job of joining the puzzle pieces of Lacey and Monica’s long forgotten memories of a brief childhood together. Lacey’s front half of the blue horse toy served as a puzzle piece that haunted her throughout her life and only until Monica entered her life was Lacey then able to understand the true significance behind that haunting blue image.

I found it fascinating that Lacey’s biological truly were the rich, loaded parents that who abandoned their young daughter. However, the plot twists lead to even more exciting discoveries of what happens behind the closed doors of the influential Bowman family.

Each character stands on her own and made me want to learn about her past shaped her present and influenced her future. The real life feel that even after being separated for more than twenty years, old patterns and feelings established as children can immediately return. Beyond the bonds of sisters, the underlying twin psychology was captivating, especially as twins run on both sides of my family. These sisters explored their bond through the good and the bad and Mary beautifully conveyed both sides of that bond such at I truly felt like I knew Lacey and Monica; I was invested in wanting to see their relationship evolve.

My Sister’s Voice is definitely a good read that you won’t want to put down.

Quote o' the Day

"Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep... wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you' re just as pretty without makeup on. One who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky he is to have YOU... The one who turns to his friends and says, that's her..." Unknown

I stumbled upon this quote this afternoon while surfing around and it hit home. It meant something because this quote is my daily experience with Super Dad. An experience so vastly different from The Leech, Montana Man, The Southern Gentleman, Harry Goldenblatt, Bolt, and the countless others that have long since fallen by the wayside.

This only further fuels the ideas swirling in my head that I need to jump on the happiness train - pass go, collect $200 - and see where this trail goes. This drive within me is something so foreign as all my decisions are logical and carefully planned out. But the how is not important to me right now, I only know what the end result must be.

When Super Dad was relaying the tales from Friday night, not only did he say that the only thing missing was me; I already felt that I am missing out on my life there. But we do have a plan to see each other in a few weeks and I need to present the idea for the remainder of July. I need to see where this road goes.

Outside of this, guess who called this week? The Southern Gentleman. yeah. too little, too late.

run forrest fun

Summer has officially arrived a few weeks early as it is supposed to hit 100 degrees each afternoon here this week. That level of extreme heat, compliments of the heat index, perfectly explains why I was drained of every drop of water when I went on my early evening jog around the block.

Yes, you read that correctly; I used the word jog in the same sentence as myself. Since living down here, I have been fascinated with running as so many people do that here, especially with the lake and all. I have tried to get a routine going in the past but trying to coordinate running buddy schedules proved problematic, so earlier this year I decided to do it on my own. I have been making little strides, slowly and steadily increasing my endurance; but most importantly I am actually establishing a semblance of regularity to my exercise schedule. Quite frankly, I am loving being in a routine again.

In other facets of my universe, I had a lovely chat with Super Dad last night. But the distance coupled without seeing each other is starting to grate on me a bit. Especially since we do not possess concrete plans on when we will see each other next. I remind myself there is a lot of upheaval at the moment, so I have to employ patience.

another mini-break

Memorial Day weekend I headed back out to see Super Dad. It was a fabulous weekend. I was sad to have to get back on the plane that Sunday eve. It was wonderful to be greeted at the airport by a man so very happy to see me. To wake up next to a smiling face. Falling asleep in his arms. Talking about a future together as if to be a conversation initiated and lead by Super Dad.

Once again, another good weekend together.

We each got caught up with work and did not make plans for this weekend. I am sad that we are not together tonight. However, as we spoke this evening, we decided to book tickets as to not be in this position again. I love that we tend to be on the same page at the same time. I cannot wait to see Super Dad again.

recap: mini-break

My mini-break.

It was wonderful. I had a fantastic time and grew to like Super Dad all the more. In fact, I was quite sad to leave his little corner of the universe. As expected the time went by too quickly and I felt more at home than anticipated.

At the top of the escalator, Super Dad was waiting for me at the main terminal. It was heavenly to see his smiling face and I was surprised at the elated feeling that coursed through me at that moment. We made our way through the maze of airport insanity and headed north toward the lake. I met his various friends from one of his circles. They were nice and welcoming. We enjoyed a casual dinner with them on the lake and then headed back toward town to Super Dad’s home.

His house was secluded and much like I pictured. His deck was painted the same color as mine, which I found odd. We relaxed in the hot tub, enjoying the calm night air. Sleeping arrangements were a shared bed where I fell asleep in his arms. Each night I slept through without waking even once. Such a lovely and welcomed change from my typical sleepless nights. Overall, I felt very much at home at Super Dad's residence.

We enjoyed grocery shopping for our special Friday night shipboard dinner. Super Dad and I went to the boat and met up with the rest of the boating crew for the party. Super Dad's friends liked me and they were funny causing me to constantly wear a smile on my face. As the evening progressed, the fun continued. As we were leaving for the evening, I was scooped up into the arms of one of his friends and carried away. I am fairly sure that Super Dad has never brought anyone on that boat that has been so warmly received.

Saturday was a lazy day and we met another set of Super Dad's friends. We rounded out Saturday evening with a lovely dinner downtown at an exclusive restaurant. Sadly, I went home and fell directly to sleep due to sheer exhaustion resulting from relaxation.

Another lazy morning and afternoon was enjoyed as Sunday continued to tick away toward my impending departure. I dreaded leaving, knowing that once I got onto that plane, I did not know when I would return. Super Dad and I had such a wonderful time together. I love the warm feeling enveloping me.

My mini-break was a success.

it's here

Heading to the deep south later today for my weekend mini-break with Super Dad. I am super excited! I cannot wait to see him at the airport!

I am elated at the thought of starting this new chapter. I cannot wait!

The best is yet to come...

ignorance is bliss

Right now. In my little corner of my little universe, the saying, "Ignorance is bliss" is ever so very utterly true.

This is going to be a core dump, stream-of-consciousness because I am in shock. I am sad. I am afraid.

Mrs. Horse and I were chatting online about our planned shopping outing over the weekend. Mrs. Horse has not been told by myself or Super Dad that we are seeing each other, but Mrs. Horse knows. Super Dad and I both agree that she has figured it out.

Mrs. Horse moves the conversation from shopping strategy to Super Dad. I know where she is going. However, Mrs. Horse took a sharp left turn when she inquired as to how much I know about Super Dad's health. I tell her that he has shared snippets with me, like he had cancer many years ago and a surgery last year for pain stemming from the cancer surgery. Mrs. Horse proceeds to tell me that Super Dad is undergoing radiation again. They'll know in two weeks if the radiation worked again.

And it was with those two sentences that I have a myriad of emotions swirling around inside my body. Pieces of conversations Super Dad and I have had now make sense. He "told" me in small, undetectable ways. But always in past tense. I had no idea this was Super Dad's present.

What does this all mean? Now I understand why the recent rash of deaths have shaken him. I am also amazed at his strength because on the surface, the lake water is so calm, so smooth.

Mrs. Horse swore me to secrecy as he would be furious with her for telling me.

And so the world turns.

living on borrowed time

Super Dad arrived on Tuesday afternoon. He left this morning. A few days. But a few days that were ever so enjoyable. A few days that make me realize how very much I am going to miss him when our trips and time together are not so predictable. However, in one of his many phone calls to me since he returned home today, Super Dad did tell me that we'd travel between our two cities and our time together would be all about quality.

On Tuesday when I first saw Super Dad on his arrival, we were on opposite sides of a hallway. If only, I could have run to him, without abandon, I would have. But alas, I could not. I was surprised at my immediate, unconscious reaction when I saw him. After our long day at the office, we each made our way to our favorite bartender. We spent the evening sipping cocktails and enjoying life.

Wednesday was a terribly painful day and both of us were fried at the end of it. A final work dinner for us to play it low key; however, two of our dinner mates are definitely suspicious of Super Dad and me. In fact, I believe one has figured it out. Both nights he came over afterwards. No hijinks or shenanigans. Lulu loves Super Dad to pieces. He started calling himself her daddy. I corrected him and said that uncle was good enough for now.

I cannot believe that a week from today, I will be with him in his hometown. I continue to be amazed at how much fun Super Dad and I have together. I don't see our age difference, I simply look forward to hearing his voice, to seeing his eyes. My initial society imposed reservations have retreated. I am excited.

more whirlwinds

Another whirlwind week here.

Sunday evening we had our evening cocktail as planned. If I may say, everything came together perfectly and I looked fabulous. I got to the bar before Super Dad did, so I settled onto one of the couches. This summer he is going on an annual Florida holiday and he invited me to join him. We had a wonderful time and did a wee bit of bar hopping.

Monday evening was our client dinner, which was rather low key. Tuesday night was our account dinner. Tuesday's meetings were not kind to me and by 4 PM I was disgusted and done with the universe. Super Dad whisked me away at 5:30 PM for happy hour relaxation. We met a wonderful bartender and together we were having so much fun that leaving to meet the larger group was difficult. At our dinner, Super Dad and I were placed next to each other at the table. I think a few people do suspect something is going on between us. We went back to visit our bartender after the proper dinner to enjoy the rest of the lovely evening.

Wednesday evening was a dinner with a co-worker and his wife. We arrived early and went to the bar to wait until our reservation time. The dinner was at a country club, so at the bar we were surrounded by golfers. At one point a man walked up to Super Dad saying, "Hello, nice to see you again." Super Dad replies with small chit-chat. As soon as the man leaves, Super Dad tells me, "I have no idea who that man was." We laughed over it and the rest of our surroundings. Dinner was a buffet, my favorite (said dripping with sarcasm). On our way back to my car, Super Dad shared with me that he was going to change his flight. He will be leaving Saturday morning instead of Friday morning. I was elated.

Thursday. Super Dad has a melt down similar to my Tuesday. Thursday night was our vendor dinner. I had to endure dinner with the Infamous Ass Grabber. Woo hoo! Super Dad told me earlier that Mr. Infamous inquired as to if something was going on between the two of us. When Super Dad replied nothing, Mr Infamous stated that he did not want to hone in on Super Dad's territory but he might make a go at me. What a crock! Like Mr. Infamous would ever have a chance with me. Yuck!

Due to non-stop nature of the week, Friday evening started off with a much needed nap. Super Dad and I rendezvoused and went on to our first stop. He was very close and kind as always. We wound our way throughout town finally ending the evening back with our new favorite bartender.

Since he returned home, Super Dad has called me daily; albeit, only two days but it is nice. Nice to hear someone tell me that he misses me and wants to hear my voice. At our final stop on Friday night, he told me that he is crazy about me and my ever skeptical self actually believes him. The sincerity in his eyes, the tone of his voice. Thus far Super Dad has been a man of his word. I continue to have this smile on my face; I like hearing the phone ring. We have such a wonderful time together. I cannot wait for his next return trip.

tonight, tonight

Once again, it is Sunday evening and Super Dad is winging his way into town. It is different this time though, he called before he boarded the plane to secure tonight's location.

It is also different because this is Super Dad's last official trip to the Big ATX for this account. We are booked every night this week having dinner with various groups of people. Tonight is our only 'alone' night. I think suspicion may very well start to swirl this week. Oh well. Speculation is exactly that - speculation.

Super Dad booked my mini-break flight on Monday. The same day when the Southern Gentleman booked his flight for Austin. Yes, you see, a week ago today, the Southern Gentleman awoke from his flowery sleep and called me inquiring about making a visit in May. I am so over the man. Same tape over and over and over and over and over again. This is a platonic trip. A trip to keep his American Airline miles active. A little r and r holiday for him. It is all for him and none for me - validating everything I have been feeling for quite some time.

But back to Super Dad, I am super excited about my upcoming weekend sneak away. He is too as I constantly hear stories of who he has told about my impending holiday. I honestly believe that 3/4 of Atlanta knows I am coming to town. What to pack has caused me some terror as I think I need to over pack in order to be ready for the absolutely anything and everything that will be thrown my way - fancy dress-up to boat slacker.

I have selected my outfit for tonight - black, simple, chic with knock out accessories. Now to get dressed and made up. I plan on having a fabulous time.

Good night, my darlings!

as the world turns

Whirl wind. Insanity. Disbelief.

Since Wednesday afternoon, my world has completely been upended.

On Wednesday, Super Dad and I went to a meeting that is typically internal only but due to the focus topic, the life-sucking vampire project, we were there along with the big dog customer. At this meeting I received accolades from both my management and the customer because I am successfully completing the life-sucking vampire project, where everyone before me has failed - I was floored. Completely. Utterly. Floored. To have that said - who said it - in front of the audience. I still don't quite believe it.

As Super Dad and I drove to the meeting together, he was convinced that some of our co-workers are growing suspicious of our togetherness. I disagreed with him. We stopped at Bux before heading back to the grind and sat outside to enjoy our caffeine loaded delights. It was here that he shared that once his son is out of high school, he wants to living full throttle again; however, the women that he meets that are his age aren't into go-go-go and that is why he believes he needs to be with a younger woman. Cue Patsy and all her stories about her adventures down here. Then he made some comment about me being the next Mrs. Super Dad. I told him emphatically that I will not change my last name. I am Patsy Wanderlust. And no, Patsy Wanderlust-Super Dad will not fly either. He told me he could live with that - at the end of the day, all that really mattered would be that we were together and I wore his ring. Alrighty then.

Then Wednesday night, we headed to a restaurant on the lake. Sunset at the end of the dock bar, sipping cocktails and talking. Super Dad inquired as to when my last relationship was - he quantified by stating not serial dating, but a true relationship. I had to think about it - and the answer was Montana Man. Wow - that feels like eons ago now. Super Dad has really watched me because some of the observations he shared surprised me. We called it a night and he walked me to my car. Imagine my surprise when Super Dad took my face in his hands and kissed me right there in the parking lot. I wasn't expecting it. And let me tell you, my darlings, I have not been kissed like that in a very, very long time. Wowzers.

So yesterday (Thursday), we both had a bit of giddiness bubbling under the surface. Then we get an invitation to be interviewed about the success of the life-sucking vampire project to be featured for the entire company. Again, I am floored. I cannot believe it still.

Then, Thursday evening was our life-sucking vampire team dinner/Super Dad's going away dinner. Super Dad has extended his stay a few more weeks to help me finish the life-sucking vampire. I am super excited about that. Any way, dinner was fabulous fun and I do love my team. After the group disbursed, I was headed home when Super Dad called. We decided to have a debrief cocktail. In this, I missed my exit and was turning around when he asked me out on a date. I inquired as to how this was any different from the rest of our dates and he stated it wouldn't be an after work, we're exhausted like usual thing. I joked that I have a tough boss who works me 7 days a week. He joked back that he'd see what he could do. It was a fun conversation.

So we went for a cocktail. The bar was packed but we got a corner of a table outside. Super Dad asked what I thought when he kissed me the previous evening. I told him, honestly, part of me was surprised and the other half wasn't. He was beyond delightful - it is great to have my cheeks hurting from so much smiling and laughing. He is very sweet, kind, and considerate. He walked me to my car. We hugged. He took my hands in his and just looked at me, drank me in, then he kissed me good night.

We saw each other a bit this morning at the office. Super Dad called as I was en route to the office and he was running late. The reason for his call - to get my coffee order as he was picking up our coffee on his way in. He had to leave for the airport and I had to leave for a meeting, so we really didn't say good bye. I did call him after my meeting was done though. He was giggly asking me if I could fit into his suitcase so he could take me home with him.

And with this turn of events, my wondering, my insecurities are washed away.

interpretation

some days i wonder if i make up all these crazy ideas.

i think i take things too personally sometimes.

i tried my hardest not to be cool to super dad yesterday but i was miffed about sunday night and work getting in the way. i still know i was a bit chilly.

then i start to doubt my entire take on the situation. one of my greatest faults is my binary nature - i am a light switch - i am either on or off - shades of gray can be hard to find in certain aspects of my life, my interpretation of a situation.

however, last night super dad and i had dinner with a co-worker and his wife. then today super dad was flirty again. tonight we had dinner together.

he prefaces his conversations with giggles and winks of jest but he talks about our 'dates' and pretending that there is something going on with us in front of our co-workers. i thought that it was in jest but at the same time i wonder if it is wishful thinking - i teeter-totter between the two scenarios - not knowing which to believe. my insecurity creeps to the forefront.

never a smooth road

Remember my excitement about the Sunday night cocktail rendezvous with Super Dad.

Yeah, not happening. Thank you, work.

Disappointed.


But I did complete a 10k today!

realizations

I survived another week. Sadly, my evenings haven't been fun like they used to be; these days, I pass out in front of the television with a glass (or two, or three) of vino. I am hoping that with summer rapidly approaching and truly believing the life-sucking vampire project making great strides, I will be able to restore balance in my life. Because I certainly do miss it, kids.

Smack dab in the middle of the week, Super Dad half whispered into the phone, "Want to meet for a drink after I get in on Sunday night again?" My yes was immediate, instantaneous, excited. Plans are progressing for my visit. Honestly, I am super excited for Sunday night and even more excited for the mini-holiday. I also find myself sad that his days as my partner in crime will be ending soon. Proximity is everything.

Edina is being very supportive; whereas, Shelley was hands down opposed to my even entertaining the thought.

But I am done with labels. I am tired of the 'shoulds', the rules, the expectations set by someone who has never walked in my high heeled shoes. My life is anything but 'normal'. I possess all the creature comforts - a home, a car, a job - but compared to everyone else in my age bracket, I am not married with kids, my picket fence is painted red, I continue to be hungry, I am ok with being alone, don't need someone else to define me. I am a nomad - my gypsy roots still tug at my heart - feeding that wanderlust and adventure that circulates through me, that is as vital to me as blood and oxygen. My life doesn't fit nicely into a little blue box, but I have never liked confined spaces. The chances, the consequences of this tryst are no different than those of the Leech, Montana Man, The Southern Gentleman, or any of the other ghosts of christmas past. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Jumping in, wholeheartedly, just as I do with everything else. No regrets.

thursday night surprises

Thursday, my lovelies, was another interesting one.

I waltzed into the office donning one of my new dresses - this one was solid chocolate brown, no cleavage popping, interesting sleeves - and crossed the threshold into the conference room as Super Dad was exiting. Upon seeing me, the man literally stopped and I thought his eyes just might explode. As I continued on to my table, he stood in the doorway asking if that was one of the dresses he bought me.

You see, sometime during the life-sucking vampire project, I started telling Super Dad that he owed me a dress when I made a major milestone or pulled off some incredible miracle. If I bought a dress over the weekend, when I wore it to work, I tell him, "You bought this for me." Of course, no money has ever changed hands but it is our on-going joke. In fact, the entire team is a part of it now. One man is my official dress accountant and he even recently wrote up the dress promissory note for Super Dad and me.

Super Dad and I had a f*cking fantastic meeting with executive management that afternoon. Late Wednesday night I had a brilliant idea of how to display our progress of the life-sucking vampire project that excited me to no end. The brass loved it! And I felt wicked awesome. Amazing things are happening!

Both Super Dad and I were on a huge high. Early evening back at the office, Super Dad inquires about my evening plans because he said we needed to work late for the big boss man. I had planned on meeting Edina and a few friends for dinner but told Super Dad I would cancel as the new big boss man hasn't been happy the progress we've been making until this afternoon. Paying my mortgage and staying in Austin take precedence some days.

I explained to Edina I had to work late due to higher powers. About 6:30 PM is when the dimly glowing light bulb should have went off over my head, but alas, oblivious, thy name is Patsy. Super Dad tells me to pack up as we need to head to the north office. While odd, I complied as I am not privy to all the big decisions.

We jump into Super Dad's rental, which we affectionately called 'The Bat Mobile' as this week was a black Chevy Cobalt. Heading north Super Dad receives a few calls that he places on speaker for me to overhear as if to be sharing more and more of his personal life. It is when we pass the exit that the light switch is flipped to the on position.

Super Dad proceeds to inform me that he is whisking me away to have dinner with our mutual co-worker/friend out on her ranch outside of town. I was speechless. He handed me the scribbled directions and told me to be on the lookout for a liquor store to pick up wine.

En route we made a quick vino stop at the local grocery store. At the wine aisle, Super Dad told me to work my magic. Exiting the grocery, he stated in jest, "Here again we are going off alone." But I think it was only partly in jest.

We arrived at Horse Ranchers without calling for directions. Due to my recent trip home, I now know what a preggo horse looks like and was able to know there were two on the ranch. Super Dad was skittish around the horses, but the horses were very friendly and I spent time with them. Later I took a ride around a small portion of the property with the Mr. Horse, who was intoxicated and that mixed with gravel roads meant I wore more of my vodka martini than I consumed. It was still a wonderful night. Mrs. Horse and I had a wicked time teasing Super Dad. You see, Mrs. Horse and Super Dad have known each other over 30 years because they started working for the company at the same time. Together, she and I leave that poor man squirming and begging for mercy. While he does protest, Super Dad thoroughly enjoys it.

In the dark, in the middle of nowhere, my sense of direction got us back to the highway. Our conversation home was about life over the years on this larger programme. Super Dad dropped me at my car and as it is awkward, I told him thank you and headed to my car. That thin blue line remains a bit difficult for me to maneuver.

because you asked

Fiona asked an important question:

"Whatever happened to Bolt in the end, I think last I heard he'd disappointed you by not turning up?"

After the consecutive weekend adventures with Bolt, when left to his own devices, he never demonstrated any initiative. Not a single phone call or email.

The last straw was upon returning to Austin from my angel of death mission, I sent Bolt a sweet little birthday text message. Any sort of acknowledgement from Bolt? Nothing. Absolutely. Nothing. A week later Bolt resurrects responding with a text of thanks for the birthday wishes. It only elicited disgust as I tossed the phone to Edina for her intake. At that point, Endina told me that earlier Homey had sent Bolt a message about our evening cocktail plans to which Bolt replied he had plans to catch a movie. And with that, Bolt was off my books.

crossing the thin blue line

With Bolt dead to me, The Southern Gentleman suddenly whining his sad song my way again, we need to throw another player in to the mix. And no, it is not the dreaded Montana Man. It is Super Dad.

Picture it - Austin - last night - after a long day at the office, I was diligently 'typing' the text message to Edina while standing my car in the parking garage. As we park on the same deck, Super Dad drives by, honks, and goes on his merry way exiting the garage. I receive a phone call from Super Dad shortly after I finished pushing send on Edina-bound text - because let's face it, I am slow with all that text stuff. Super Dad tells to join him for dinner. I think nothing of it because we have done this a lot.

Fast forward now to dinner. The waitress inquires about dessert. Super Dad tells her that we are on our first date and he doesn't know if I am going to agree to grab a cocktail with him after dinner. The waitress starts suggesting places and I am merely trying not to laugh due to his dead pan delivery. As we are crossing the street leaving the restaurant, Super Dad states, 'That waitress really thought this was a first date. If she only knew how many dates we've really been on.'

Cue the ever dim light bulb going on over my head.

Then I start connecting the dots on past conversation and quite frankly I am a blooming idiot. Super Dad is going to fly me to his home town to go to his friend's big party for the weekend - they supposedly throw these wild parties - all delivered under the guise of thanking me for my work and I naively bought that.

Sunday, enjoying my buzz, I sent him a text message as I knew he had landed in town. Super Dad called me instantaneously after I sent him that text message. My first and last Irish Car Bomb provided me with liquid courage that left a nasty hangover.

I crossed the thin blue line that resides in my split of personal life and work life. However, Super Dad's time on the life-draining vampire project is coming to an end. Time to enjoy and try to not get caught up with my lines.

under the weather

I am currently caught in not-feeling-so-hot land. Somewhere between a cold and nasty allergy attack. I am eating zyrtec, benadryl, and tylenol sinus like candy. Of course, this means I spent most of yesterday unconscious on the couch and I don't see much movement today either.

The dog is going to be the death of me. Usually a quiet girl, she has been crying in my ear to let her outside to enjoy the weather. This behavior is not appreciated when I am sick.

Here's to another day on the couch!

of death and dying

This week I am broadcasting live from the frozen tundra. I do not miss it here. Life in this cow town is dull; it is life on a hamster wheel, which is a fate worse than death to this girl.

Speaking of death and dying, that is the entire reason I winged my way back here at the spur of the moment last Saturday. My mother's 90+ year old mother started hospice care a few weeks ago and upon enduring a less-than-fun phone call with my mother filled with phrases like "don't judge me" and "you have no idea what it's like here', I decided it was time to get my behind on an airplane.

A little more than 24 hours after my arrival, the old lady was dead. I like to think I released her as clearly my mother was selfishly holding on to her for dear life. I am all about quality as opposed to quantity and quality was definitely non-existent.

My grandmother and I never really had a relationship. She was disinterested in me. It was all about her and only her. When Helen and The Queen died, I cried and cried; I felt deep sense of loss and great sadness - even today. However, with my grandmother, it is sadly quite different as I find myself not having any emotion or feeling of loss. Crazy, huh.

turn that frown upside down

Considering my ego was badly bruised with Bolt's no-show move, today's many random men checking me out helped immensely in patching me up. This morning on the Starbuck's run while inside the coffee mega-land confines, not three but four men eyeballed me big time. Super Dad was quite impressed that I counted up the same number as he did. Getting into the elevator this afternoon, a man from the adjoining suite dive-bombed in between the closing doors for an opportunity to chat me up. Shock and awe, indeed.

five out of six

Yesterday was Saturday.

You know what Saturdays have been consisting of for the past five consecutive weeks? Bolt.

This past Saturday was a bit different as Bolt did not make an appearance on my docket. However, I was not expecting this little surprise. I decided to send Bolt a text message regarding the location of Saturday's night festivities. Within mere moments, Bolt sent a response inquiring about arrival time and I responded accordingly. I was so excited at Bolt's rapid response. I was super thrilled for the night.

Walking to the party, I thought I saw Bolt's vehicle parked down the street. No Bolt sights though. The evening wore on and he was a no-show. I was disappointed. Very disappointed.

snow day in texas

It snowed here today in the heart of Texas! I forgot just how much I do not miss these cold white flakes. After years of living in cold, snowy climates, I applied my snowy roads and crazy Texas drivers rules to the equation and promptly left the office at 1:30 PM.

However, the snow was also a blessing because the life-sucking vampire project had spiked my blood pressure into the stratosphere by 8:30 AM. Throw in the beginnings of PMS for good measure and the outlook can't be positive. I needed to get out of the office and away from the life-sucking vampire idiots. Exhaustion or raging hormones is definitely taking it's toll on me. Personally, I am leaning toward the devils of PMS as I scarfed down an entire bag of popchips this afternoon.

Sadly though, I find myself still in the giddy zone counting down the days until the weekend. Still riding the high of Saturday night with Bolt. I feel like a goofy teenager head-over-heels for a boy. It has been quite some time since I have felt this sort of unabashed excitement and thrill. I like having something to look forward to!

carnaval

Last night was Carnaval in the ATX. It was fabulous fun!

But let's do a little back tracking, shall we?

Friday afternoon I sent a note to Bolt with the will call information for our tickets on Saturday. I told him about the warm-up party too. I was proud of myself for sending him the details instead of chickening out.

Now to Saturday. I slept in and didn't make it to boot camp. However, I did have a two and half hour phone call with my mother about death as her 92 year old mother (my grandmother) is dying. After that downer, I ran errands such as eye brow waxing and returning Carnaval outfits that didn't make the cut. When I arrived home at 3:15, there was a response from Bolt inquiring about the warm-up party location. I took a nap and then sent Bolt the details. I started getting ready for the night, which meant I was in the back of the house away from my phone.

I curled my hair, applied my make up and put on my fishnets. I felt rather naked in my negligee. In checking my mobile's battery life, I saw there was a message from Edina stating Bolt needed the directions to the warm-up party because he was without internet. Edina sent Bolt's number and I provided him the details. I quickly received a response from Bolt, "cool - on my way!"

I parked at the garage and had to psych myself up to walk from there to the party location a few blocks away. Luckily I ran into an acquaintance along the way so I wasn't as self-conscious. Got to the warm-up party and walked in to see Bolt there waiting for me.

Cocktails were had. More people arrived. Then Bolt's ex walked through the door and he decided it was time to make me another drink. She came over and chatted him up and I used the time to circulate. He was back at my side shortly and then one of my long time admirers arrived and was getting a little handsy with me. Of course, Bolt gets very close to stake out his 'property', which I thought was pretty neat.

It was shortly past 9 PM and time to leave for the main venue. I went to the bathroom to affix my mask. With that done, I took off my coat to reveal my outfit and we were out the door. We picked up our tickets at will call without a hitch and entered the party. Bolt and I broke off from the group quickly and submerged ourselves into the festivities.

We ran into others from time-to-time, but we stayed together all night. Bolt brought a flask and we did small toasts along the way. During our last break of the night, we caught up with the bulk of the crew. At some point Edina and I were whisked away by a man to join a conga line. Later Bolt was resourceful and we jumped in a conga line so he could touch me a bit. We ended the night dancing cheek to cheek with bit of smoochy-smooch.

After the lights came up, we headed to the door with a small pocket of the group. Bolt took my hand and didn't let go until we were back at warm-up party headquarters. The night wound down around 3 AM. Bolt drove me to my car and we kissed good night.

I'd say my first Carnaval was a success.