equals disappointment

Work has been less than stellar. I am tired of the unnecessary upheaval. As a result, work and coping with work stress, also known as going to a lot of kickboxing and Pilates. At least I can side plank like nobody's business now. 

I hadn't given any time to the fact that Valentine's Day was looming. Until I got home from work tonight. There was a bouquet of flowers waiting for me on the kitchen counter. As I got closer, I saw a card as well. It was from my parents. 

Before I sound like a monster for how it made me feel, it was nice of them do to leave those items for me. However, it really drove home the fact that I continue to be alone. The last time I remember celebrating this Hallmark holiday was fourteen years ago. Yes, I had to travel down memory lane to do some math there. 

That number was much larger than anticipated. Compound that with the fact I am 42. Even though I made it through calculus, math was never really my subject. Cue the pity party. 

Between my job and Tour Director's busy season, we haven't connected as much, which has added to my pity party. Emphasized my aloneness here. I have been perfectly content in my aloneness for quite some time, but now with Tour Director on the scene, my aloneness is a real thing, palpable.

This is simply one more thing I have to work through. One more lesson to learn. Another street I must walk down on the road to Mr. Right. 

how do you measure a year

March marked five years since my Austin odyssey began. Of course, I have been overly sentimental about the entire contract-coming-to-an-end ordeal. However, I look back at the past five years and I can't help but feel utter and pure awe.

I grew up in Austin. I grew up, learned who I am as well as who I am not. I tested my limits learning where I excel and where I have no business going. For the first time in my life, I made true friends. Friends I could call when Lulu drama was in full swing and those friends would drop everything to help me. Friends who picked up the pieces when I couldn't. Friends who tried. I also learned the difference between friend and frienemy. I learned what I was capable of. The depth of love and unwavering strength that dwells within me. I learned to conquer my fears, to be okay with me. I look in the mirror and I actually love who I see.

Life has changed a lot here as well. People changed, I changed. But the common denominator, if it existed, has made sure our bonds remained strong and intact. While I stay alone, others have married, had babies and yet as life changes radically, our common denominator has remained constant. Friendships growing and changing in a healthy way and oh, how that makes my heart sing!

Thank you, Austin. You gave me a home unlike any other. I found myself here. I learned about me and how wonderful my world truly is. Thank you for both the overflowing joy and the heartbreak that taught me about my capabilities and the capabilities of others. Love. Unconditional. Unbreakable. Pure. Thank you.

Whatever the future holds, I will be ready and able to handle it because Austin gave me the tools I need. 

nine years ago today

This morning as I looked at the calendar, I had a nagging feeling trying to remember why 10/26 felt like a day I should remember. Nothing came to my coffee deprived brain and physically sore body.

Later in the morning as I literally stared into the calendar trying desperately to remember the importance of today, the lightening bolt finally struck.

October 26th. The day I got married. Nine long years ago. Wow, a date that was once so important is now nothing more than a fleeting memory. I am actually and honestly surprised the significance of the date escaped me. I did not think that could actually happen, especially to me with my date and face steel trap mind. Repression is a wonderful thing, I suppose.

But looking back, shortly before 10/26/02, I knew this union was doomed. Deep within my soul, I knew without a doubt this relationship was not one of equality. At the time, I chalked it up to pre-wedding jitters. Now I know differently. Without a doubt.

Nine years later, I can say that I enjoyed my wedding day. Loved that I shared a special moment with my dearest family and friends, especially since several of my extra special dear ones are no longer on this earthly journey with me. I loved my dress. But I keep coming back to sharing that special time with people I loved, creating special connections with so many family members that I didn't previously know. For the relationship building alone, I would not trade that day for the world.

If it weren't for getting married, I would not have my precious Lulu and Juju. My world would be so pale if it weren't for those two dogs. The same dogs I would do anything for because they are an integral part of me.

I don't look back on today with bitterness and anger. Today's memories are filled with a gorgeous dress and love for my family and friends. Maybe the Beatles are right... all you need is love...

decisions, choices, roads travelled

Lately I have noticed that children keep catching my attention. Unconsciously I am drawn to taking in the antics of children. Maybe this is my so-called biological clock kicking in, because there are cute little people coming out of the wood work. I never knew so many existed.

Case in point, a little boy about four years old was having an early dinner with his mom at Costco this afternoon. While I munched on my churro, I was enamored watching him and all his fascination with the world, particularly the soda vending machine. From the looks his mother was giving me, I am positive she believed I was planning his abduction.

The realization that I am 36 has hit hard. Sure, women have babies well into their 40s. But there is this little nagging part of me that realizes the die is cast and I don't quite know how I feel about it; I suppose it is that small pang of regret that is bothering me.

My choices have led me here. But I love my life. As I talk out of both sides of my mouth, I truly do believe I lead a charmed existence and enjoy so very much each and every experience I am presented with. A great career, the ability to travel, to be flexible (for the most part, uprooting dogs and such) to go where the wind blows me. I totally know I could not go buy an arm-load of dresses or head off to exotic foreign lands if I had a child. I love my freedom. I don't know that I could not surrender that vital part of myself.

But then I wonder at what point is the dress shopping going to get old. Will Super Dad be my equivalent of Carrie's Mr. Big and we'll be enough for each other? I did enjoy playing Easter Bunny for Montana Man's children. Therein lies the catch-22. I don't want to be a single mother either. While sounding utterly pathetic, I have a difficult enough time being a "single parent" to a 55 pound accident-prone dog that I could not imagine dealing with the demands of a child. Maybe that right there is my answer.

Nothing is perfect though. Some of my married-with-children friends envy my freedom. The grass isn't greener on either side of our fences; it is simply a different length. I just don't want to wake up one day and wish I had gone left instead of right at the fork in the road.

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.

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.

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.

paying

I have been on a Tyler Perry movie kick. I love watching someone else's roller coaster life get wrapped up pretty with a bow with happiness overflowing in the span of two hours. I really like his stories and perspective - it is very call-it-like-it-is, stating the obvious, but sometimes it is simply good to hear it.

Last night's selection was Diary of a Mad Black Woman. It started me thinking about my attitude towards men because in many respects the movie could have easily been the Diary of a Mad Puerto Rican-Italian Princesa Named Patsy. The line that truly struck a chord was the romantic male lead telling the divorcee lead, "Don't make me pay for his mistakes." The 'his' being referred to is the divorcee's ex-husband.

"Don't make me pay for his mistakes."

I do that. The realization slapped me across the face last night as I watched the film. What I have termed 'cautious', not repeating the same pattern went from simply being knowledgeable to the harder, misguided making him, any him, pay for the past transgressions of the tainted men from my past.

Fear.

Trust.

Two simple words.

Two powerful forces.

However, these words play a significant role in making him pay. The cynic in me grows feeding on the fear and inability to trust. Fear of being made a fool again; fear of trusting that someone is who he says; fear of being vulnerable; fear of hurt.

Especially in the Internet sphere, trust is a difficult thing for me. Men use old photos, misrepresent height, weight, professions. Of course, women do that too, but I like to think people should be fairly honest when trying to meet someone. In my profile, I used recent photos and was honest with the likes/dislikes tick boxes. My other fear/trust issue with on-line dating is the 'always looking for something better' philosophy but I remind myself that is present int he real-world dating scheme too.

As a result of this grand realization compliments of Mr. Perry, I have been making an effort to be in the now with The Computer Geek; to cease the cynical voice in my head that automatically plays the punisher soundtrack. The Computer Geek is not his predecessors; he may turn in an arse, but it will be on his own and not because I have made him into those who came before him.

my little something to ponder today

Patsy, the Chinese say, "The best time to plant a tree was always 20 years ago. The second best time is always today."

Funny how planting trees and taking action on the life of your dreams are the same that way.

The Universe

beware the fog

It is foggy here today.

Not just a bit of passing fog. It is heavy, hazy fog. The type of fog that bad horror movies are made of. The same fog that rolls in over the hills into the bay covering the city of San Francisco. I am reminded of the days when I lived in the East Bay.

My days in San Fran were grand fun. However, back then, if I were more outgoing, the sky could have been the limit. Still I enjoyed my time there. It was a fabulous year. I really immersed myself into the city. I knew my way around that area like the back of my hand. I could be to any winery in an hour. I soaked up the sun and the wine. It was a freeing experience.

That year would lay the ground work that would lead me to where I am today. Staying on the work site and assimilating into life in a new city.

Over the past ten years, I have lived in many places. Sometimes the places that are designated as "home" feel the most alien. Other places with no attachments, no memories become the more of a home than I've ever known. Alone, building a life in a strange land fulfills me, satisfies me. While change scares some people, it excites me.

Several years ago with Shelley on one of her psychic hunts, we had our palms read and the woman told me that she saw me in a past life dancing around a fire. I was a gypsy. Recently I remembered her words and realized I still carry a lot of that gypsy life along with me. My urge to roam, to explore is still alive and well. I get restless when I am stuck at my home base for too long. The need for adventure, the unknown feeds me, drives me.

When the fog lifts, this small corner of the world will be clear again. I wonder if everything will be visible? Will my next steps be illuminated? Or do I simply follow my wandering soul trusting I will land precisely where I am meant to be?

she's back

My follies are over... at least for the time being...

Holiday was good but lots of sad things happened while I was away too.

Today is my first official day back in the office. I desperately need caffeine, although food I can do without from eating so many damn cows.

Weird things happened while I was home this weekend that have stirred up all sorts of emotions deep within my soul. Those are the thoughts occupying my mind's first class seats rather than the remnants of holiday euphoria.

But it certainly is nice to be home again with my puppy girls.

pink and cuddly

Last night was a bit spooky. It is was night like any other... dinner, primarily girls - same old, same old, right.

The difference was that there was a relatively new little baby there. She was a day shy of being two months old. I have only known the mother as a pregnant woman, so finally the little girl arrived.

I don't know if it was being surrounded by massive quantities of estrogen plus my raging, seriously raging PMS, but I was totally enamored by that little girl. And for the very first time ever, I found myself... I found myself... *gulp* I found myself wanting one for a few fleeting moments.

Maybe I do have a biological clock of sorts after all. It was truly bizarre. I was entranced by that little twelve pound bundle and even had to go torture her once she awoke. Table full of women and I was the only one who was magnetized toward her. Yikes! What is happening to me?! Hopefully it was simply the perfect storm conditions of too many hormones. No matter what, it certainly scared the hell out me!

fan clubs

There is a myriad of fan clubs out there. Some we strive to be a part of, others we abhor. I have a few that are a constant in my universe. Some you slip into because you find your niche.

My preferred niche has always been gay men. Yes, I proudly admit to being a fag hag. Whether it is proclaiming my most favorite movie ever is Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (and thereby subjecting straight boyfriends to watching it under duress) or the fact that I feel incredibly lost with my bestest gay pals being 2,000 miles away, I am a true rainbow hag.

Obviously, my favorite fan club is the land of gay men. To me, it all centers around acceptance. In many aspects, gay men are still viewed as outsiders themselves and as such I have felt most welcome and valued among my (obviously) favorite fan club. My bestest gay pals accept my sense of style and truly accept me. This level of acceptance is something that I have never felt from other women. Typically, other women view as the interloper, the competition, the outsider due to my outward appearance. However, things are very different in Austin. Instead of being subjected to the usual woman cattiness, women here accept me as I am. It has been a wonderful breath of hope that has truly changed my life.

So while the two outer limits of my life have been swapped, there are other changes in my various other fan clubs. Primarily, the male based arena. While The Southern Gentleman is still looming out there with great force, my other boy fan clubs are diametrically opposed. There is the would-never-date-you-but-enjoy-your-fawning-over-me fan club, also known as the Stroke My Ego fan base. Needless to say, I enjoy this particular club immensely. And then there is the dreaded, oh-my-dear-god-get-away-from-me-you-freak, also known as don’t-mistake-my good-manners-for-encouragement, but I most often refer to it as my Glowing Green Loser Magnet (with my finger and my thumb in the shape of an “L” on my forehead) fan base.

Like any girl, my primary Stroke My Ego fan was always a highlight I could count on much like the postman delivering regardless of sunshine or hail storms. I enjoyed watching his eyes light up like a dried out Christmas tree in March that fell victim to a stray flame. Always the unspoken adoration I needed during this desert of a dry spell I’ve been on out here. He is totally not my type but I did live to be atop the pedestal; until he found himself a girlfriend. The usual cheerful hug I’d receive upon walking in the door has been replaced with a handshake. A handshake! For Pete’s sake! Eye lights only flicker with half a flame and insecure girlfriend is glued to his side. My Stroke My Ego fan base has officially dried up out here. Boo hoo!

But the Glowing Green Loser Magnet fan base is alive and well; thriving in fact. What a sorry state of affairs. While I strongly adhere to the code of dating karma, I have had to begin leaving a hunk of my politeness at the door because the GGLM has been working overtime. Just thinking about my last few encounters is making me nauseous. Seriously. Guess I won’t be sharing them. Just imagine your worst stop-hitting-on-me-freak encounter ever, multiply it by 750 and you have my run-ins of late.

Hopefully one day each of the boys occupying the GGLM fan club will find some lonely girl out there who overlook his inner loser and adore his freaky ass persistence. I would not complain if this fan club dried up too.

making her list, checking it twice

Recently, my list of must-haves for a potential suitor has garnered a fair amount of scrutiny. Even Edina thinks I am a bit hung up on a few points, but over the years I have come to know myself and the things I have tried to overlook but no amount of overlooking can stifle my true, raw, honest feelings. Yes, my list looks rather superficial on the surface – but if anyone knows how many frogs I have kissed and how much benefit of the doubt I have bestowed on these frogs, they would know that my list consists of brutal honesty.

It was extremely difficult for me to get to the point of even considering writing up a list. I have always been anti-list because a person is not on par with a gift registry. A person is so much more than a list! Besides I have faithful lived my life with a “don’t judge a book by its over” mentality because I know how I come off to new people. I am painfully shy in a new setting (although that has lessened some) but because I am well put together, my shyness is typically interpreted as aloofness and quite frankly women think I am a stuck up bitch, so never give me a chance.

Another important facet of my list avoidance is my father. He is a brilliant man even though he never went to college and he provided very well for his family. If my father could be so much more than his credentials, then other men could be too, right? I embraced life and men with that in mind. Sure I’ll go out with you at least once! Up to three times because those first few dates are always a little jittery.

Reality is far different than the utopia of sunshine and happiness I have floating around in my mind and heart. Last spring as my relationship with Harry Goldenblatt was waning, I was struck by the lightening bolt that clearly told me, “Girl! Wake up! It is time for you sit down, be painfully honest with yourself and write up your must-have list so you stop wasting your time on men who will never fulfill you.”

And thus, the list was born… based on my experience, my relationships, and being true to myself. I refuse to sell myself short any long.

An example – A man must possess a mortgage (or outright own his property). A mortgage is a commitment. If a man cannot commit to a payment, he certainly cannot commit to me. Also, if he cannot make his payment that also plays into his priorities; therefore, if ensuring there is a roof over his head is not high on the list, we are not going to be compatible.

After last week’s happy hour with Coco and Curly Sue, I realized this list was created long before The Southern Gentleman strolled into my life in a suitor capacity. Imagine my surprise and delight when I ran him through my list and he checks out on all fronts – straight up and sticking to the guidelines. So much for the naysayers.

a different kind of meme

I am sure you have that friend too.


The 'it's-all-about-me' friend.


Otherwise known as the selfish friend.


The friend who only calls you when she needs something.


The friend who lost the title of friend long ago.

Yeah, that one.

Mine reared her head recently. Because MeMe needed something from me. again. Shocking, right?

MeMe and I became friends many moons ago because we were trapped together for an extended period of time. I was young and just starting out and MeMe was a mentor of sorts. I was simply thrilled to have a female friend. MeMe liked the fact that I drank wine, had a good sense of direction and wasn't afraid to go anywhere. Poor MeMe gets lost when she leaves her town, let alone go gallivanting throughout the country with only a crappy rental car map. I was her savior in that I was her chauffeur and advisor/tour guide for our many adventures.


However, along the way the fun times turned sour when MeMe started placing demands on me that were above and beyond the scope of our friendship. An example is demanding I get on a plane to come to an event without a formal invitation and no more than two days notice. And I was expected to drop everything a come because MeMe summoned.

Our lives drifted away and then the pattern really began to emerge with her contacting me solely when she required something - information and usually some sort of favor. MeMe was not happy that I got married. She also grew to be jealous of our age difference as I was still young while the signs of aging began to creep up on her and she was no longer the prettier of us nor the thinnest.

After my divorce, she tried to suck me back in. I went along with it for awhile in hopes that she had changed. Alas, she hadn't. What was fun when I was in my 20s no longer held any thrill for me in my 30s.

The other day when she contacted me, I came so close to telling her that I am tired of our 'friendship' being one of where she only knows me when she wants something. But then I decided against it. MeMe would not understand, would not see it. The only that matters is I see it, I realize it and I can and do chose not to participate in it any longer. I see that this friendship officially riding off into the sunset.

33.5

I am on the mend. Of course, missing a full week of corporate slave duties has made this week pure craziness, but must muddle through.

Today. May 8th. Means I am officially half way through my 33rd year. 33 1/2... wow. Kinda nutty to know that I am six little months away from 34.

This realization struck me as I wrote the date in my notebook this morning. I do not feel anywhere remotely near 33, let alone the 34 that is sneaking up on me.

Am I where I thought I should be by this stage in my life?

That is a difficult question to answer. It is a split between yes and no. A part of me never looked that far forward. Right now, I feel like I am living the dream... the past year has been pure dream. and I am so extraordinarily thankful for this experience. Personal life has been dicey but that too is coming around.

While my life to this point has been good, deep within my heart, I know the best is yet to come!

Reflections

I looked into her face, her eyes and for the first time in a very long time, I smiled back at her because I like what I see. Actually, I love what I see. She has the twinkle back in her blue, blue eyes. Her face lights up when she smiles. The light radiates from her. And the smile. It is not forced any more. There is no act. That smile is there because she cannot help but give into it.

She is happy again. Truly happy from the depth of her spirit - and that feeling that permeates her being is manifested with ease on her exterior because she cannot help it. She has stopped sabotaging herself, she sees, appreciates and accepts her subtle beauty. She is making strides in accepting her body - both the good and the bad. This is huge as before all she ever saw were bad parts that needed to be changed. Acceptance.

The self-confidence and self-esteem that was once an act is now pure and real. The dreams of true friends and fabulous social life are the tangible reality of her daily life. She readily let people into her life, where once that was a taboo, vulnerability was not allowed. No longer afraid to walk that balance beam because someone will catch her if she falls - and someone will help her get back on.

This knowledge has proven to be liberating for her. It has freed her, so that she is a conduit of love - most importantly loving herself for the first time in her life - unconditional love. And she sees that shift has changed her entire existence. And change is very good.

Last night as I was getting ready for bed, I was at the basin uncapping the contact solution bottles. As I was preparing to extricate the little plastic discs from my eyeballs, I caught this glimpse of myself in the mirror, which caused me to stop.

Today is one of those days where I can look back on it and think to myself "maybe I really can keep a human child alive."

My baby, the big dog, got her teeth cleaned today. I ensured she did not eat after 8 PM last night and revoked all water privileges this morning. At the vet's office, I ranted over the fact that her low body fat did not require full anesthetic as I will not have my baby die even though the preggo 22 year old vet tech tells me I am a loon. Yes, damn it, I will pay the extra 20 quid for blood work because my big, goofy, love-of-my-life girl is worth it.

Rather than being sleepy and having to carry the 60 pound hunk of burnin' love to the car tonight, she was all tripped out, panting, jumpy, wild-eyed crack whore. Almost four hours later, we've worked a lot of it out of her system and the wild gleam has left her eye. I picked her up and kept her curled up on my lap. With that, she instantly relaxed and fell into a deep sleep.

I have done a far better job with these two puppy girls than anyone ever gave me credit. My two canine babies are alive, healthy, and thriving (compared to when I rescued them). If I can make my actions and unconditional love count for two animals, then I should be able to survive this whole baby thing.

The "D" Word

Around Christmastime, I felt my depression trying to creep back up to the surface. I proceded to the acupuncturist rapidly to get my bod back in balance. It worked and the tears are no longer boiling just under the surface.

The beauty of this whole blogosphere is the realization, the sharing, the simply knowing I am not the only one out here who battles with the demon named clinical depression. But even beyond that is the fact that we discuss it openly, no longer masking it, hiding it.

Thank you to these wonderful women who help me with their openness about mental illness. It is good to know I am not alone in my battle.

Leap of Faith

It is nearing a year that I started making my pilgrimage down to SxSWland. A housing option dropped into my lap. A wonderful option. Complete with a yard. Which means dogs can be with me instead of behind bars.

Even though it is only temporary, loading the dogs in the car and driving south feels a tiny bit scary. While my life has been uprooted this past year, this somehow feels monumental compared to my monthly jaunts between the two cities. Simultaneously exciting and scary.

I remind myself that my life down there will not change besides having to put the girls out and take care of a yard again. If anything, my life will be enhanced down there because my pups are with me. When I have a bad day at work, I can once again take joy in coming home to their unconditional love. This only makes SxSWland home more than ever.

Since the past spring, I have felt deep within my being SxSWland is home, where I belong - so why the touch of fear? Maybe because I like to have things laid out with all the t's crossed and i's dotted and the situation is not that clear. My control issues bubbling to the surface? I think so because I am still teetering in the land of uncertainty on numerous levels that span the gammet personally and professionally.

This will be a good change, temporary or not; it is a change that will certainly play an important, shaping role in my life journey.