winds of change (and rage)

With all the uncertainty swirling around in my life, I started getting anxious about my mountain place. You see, the mountain house served as a dumping ground for my grandmother's house contents. My mother was unable to make decisions (remember my mother is the same woman who shopped for a couch for THREE years; clearly decision making is not her forte) and get rid of my grandmother's things so to save my poor father's sanity, my house became the mega storage unit. 


The storage unit conversion occurred about three years ago. Hence, my panic set in knowing my stuff will be returning and there is already too much of other people's stuff in my casa. I was a girl on a mission so I booked a ticket to officially commence Operation Get The House Sorted. 


I arrived home to hurricane force winds but my trusty little Nissan Versa rental somehow made it through. I surveyed the damage and hoped my mother would be able to part with these things now. As "acting" chief foreman, my mother has been hell bent on having a garage sale to unload the discards. I hail from a different mindset and firmly believe in donating the items to a women's charity, the local Lupus charity is my favorite. Why waste all the time haggling over a quarter, losing a whole day sitting in the driveway, and then listen to my mother complain incessantly that "people want chicken for 50 cents". I'd much rather give because I am lucky to have so much (and take the tax receipt). Clearly in the end, I am the one who comes out ahead on several levels (karma, baby!). 


Five days home and I finally broke my mother down. She saw the light and agreed to donate rather than go through the garage sale charade. While I was happy, I know my poor father was ecstatic because he doesn't have to suffer through another one of her pointless follies. 


I also went through almost every inch of my house to retire items that no longer turned me on. But during this whole-house sorting extravaganza, I found myself getting very agitated and angry. The cause? Seeing all the items my ex-husband, The Leech left behind. I was mortified by how much anger surfaced. After all, it is 7 years since he moved out and I moved on. But, I was livid as I went through his junk and deposited it in the garbage as most of it was literally junk. I was not expecting any anger after all this time but there I was at times shaking with rage as I dealt with his junk. I am hoping the Great Leech Clean-out of 2012 was just as good for removing my lurking anger as it was for clearing the house of the last vestiges. 


My panicked trip was good. The house is several steps closer to being ready for dwelling again and hopefully I am a few steps closer to wholeness too. 

checking in

Lots has been going on here in my little world. 


I made a trek up north to see one of my very dear friends who moved from Texas a little more than six months ago. I have missed her dearly and really needed to see her. We laughed so very much, ate, drank, and laughed some more. It felt so good. I truly needed that, even though I was frozen and had to deal with snow. 


Work is up in the air. I have to plan my move. Find a new job. Do I stay with my current company? Take a leap of faith and try a different company? Stay in Austin? Go back to Colorado? So many choices, so many decisions and a very short time line for it all. March/April is when it all happens. As in 6 to 8 weeks. Yikes! 


I haven't heard from The Courier nor have I contacted him. I have come to realize that The Courier served a very specialized purpose in my life at that moment. I needed to leave the pseudo-relationship I had with Super Dad; hence, The Courier runs through and shakes things up so I could get back on the correct path. Understanding The Courier's purpose from a higher level has completely changed my perspective. One day, if the opportunity presents itself, I will talk to him about it, but at the end of the day, my part is done. 


In the meantime, I am running again and maintaining clarity to make good decisions. 

markers

I have been back in the tailspin of extreme mourning. Yesterday marked two months to the day that my baby left. Sadly, it is not getting any easier. The floods of tears continue to roll down my face. I miss her.

wtf?!

Haven't seen the Courier since Christmas day.

Yesterday many hours were spent texting. Vanilla stuff but hours upon hours.

Tonight a mutual friend (who has no idea of what has transpired) casually mentions the Courier has been dating a girl for almost a year now.

Speechless.

Talk among yourselves.

looking back, looking forward

I love FutureMe. Exactly a year later, my letter from 27 December 2010 showed up in my in-box yesterday. I suppose it is my resolutions, my time capsule of sorts. Sometimes I am surprised by the things I truly knew back then, if only I acted on that knowledge sooner. Hope springs eternal, right? 

What will I write to myself for next year? 

** *** ** *** ** *** ** ***

27 Dec 2010

Dear FutureMe,

I was remiss in writing my annual letter at the beginning of the year. Life-sucking Vampire project ate up so much of this year. But it also provided me a lot of satisfaction, great press, and wonderful experience.

2010. Suppose I should begin at the beginning. Life-sucking Vampire project was frustrating, fighting the egos of Those Who Shall Not Be Named and Super Dad's desire to keep everyone happy. Super Dad finally saw the light and implemented my house cleaning plan.

Super Dad and I enjoyed working together. He would wave his hand in front of me every time that a man checked me out. I remember racing elevators to the 12th floor after a Starbuck's run. We railed through the front door of the suite. That moment made me realize that my fun side - thought to be long lost during the dark years - is alive and well.

Our nightly dinners took a turn at the Hula Hut, when Super Dad kissed me at the end of the night. The brightness of the situation dulled once his pain returned in July and rendered him out of commission.

The last time I saw Super Dad was Memorial Day weekend. Seven months ago. I don't know where this is going to, if anywhere. He sent me a very lovey romantic Christmas card.

Then The Southern Gentleman is out there in the atmosphere. He made a trip out here in May - in between my ATL trips. I continue to lose faith in him and the life we planned together oh so long ago.

You saw Machu Picchu and Tunisia. Lulu went on Prozac.

Enough nastoglia. On to the year ahead!

For 2011, here are the things for you to focus on and report back to me on in exactly one year: 
* Blog at least three times a week.
* Eat regularly since that is key to weight loss. Continue focusing on the super foods and you will have made it there. 
* Open your heart to love. You deserve love. I can already feel the shift starting because you are looking at your body with much less disgust. Self-Love is key. 
* Continue to travel into bold, uncharted territory. I think the Himalayas and Chile are on tap for 2011. 
* Job. That is so up in the air right now. Austin continues to push you to the next level. You can do it! 
* Continue to enjoy life here in Austin. No matter where the day takes you, Austin has been such a wonderful teacher. Love big! 
* Get back on your spiritual path. You feel the call for meditation. Follow it. Open your soul. Big things are here for you; just waiting so get back on the road, baby! 
* Learn French for your return to Tunisia. You will parle frances.

You are only improving with each year. Be open. Live Fearlessly. Love. Love. Love. Do good. Follow the path that tugs at your soul. 2011 is gonna be grand! Momentous! Indeed. Make me proud like only you can.

Until then.... love you more than anything! xoxo

lovely christmas

For once I had a lovely Christmas. As I always dread holidays, I have come to enjoy my freedom down here in Austin to celebrate as my heart sees fit. Whether I want to be with friends or stay home on my couch - it is my call. I love that freedom.

Yesterday morning was spent cooking and then heading over to share brunch with a few of the girls. It was lighthearted and filled with mimosa and laughter. The Courier and I exchanged a few text messages during the tail end of brunch.

After getting home, I decided to go for a run. Trying a new route, I clocked 4.7 miles. It was cold but I can feel my endurance increasing. I can feel each run get a bit easier and that is terribly exciting.

As I was getting cleaned up post-run, a message came across inquiring if the red had been opened. Affirming it would be, The Courier then responded he'd be over shortly. And poof! at 6:30 the doorbell rang. Comfortably curled on the couch with our wine, we spoke for hours about a wide spectrum of subjects. At some point we spoke of travel and I showed The Courier one of the travel brochures. I laughingly explained to The Courier that the travel books are my porn filled with so many places to go, things to see, worlds to explore. He put his arms around me holding me tightly to him with his chin resting on my shoulder as we flipped through the pages together.

I am enjoying my time with The Courier so very much.

another wonderful night

Last night I shared yet another wonderful evening with The Courier. We had a glass of wine before leaving for the party. He told me I looked beautiful, my dress was great. It was wonderful to hear the sincerity in his voice. 

Heading to the party, we laughed about the fact that neither of us remembers the whole evening from the last party. To avoid a repeat, we'd both made a point of eating prior to last night's engagement. The good part is we could laugh at the previous party. The Courier asked if it would be the same crowd. I explained there would be some repeats but some newbies too that are typically fun. 

Arriving at the party later meant we had to park at the top of the killer hill. A fun walk in each direction. The Courier was sweet and carried my party food contributions. It is those small gestures that turn me on. Surprisingly, the overall party turnout was lighter than anticipated. We put down my dishes, said hello to people as we navigated from the sweets table to the appetizer table. One of the gals who fell in love with The Courier lit up when she saw him. I think he was a bit tickled at that. As libations are a must, we tried the sangria and went on to find the host and hostess.

We had some nibbles. We laughed. We chatted up a few people. I truly enjoy The Courier's company. When the band began to play, he put his arms around my waist and held me tightly near him. A few times he kissed my shoulder blade. It was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Of course, the snoops eyeballed our every move. We were not over the top in any way; we were simply happy together.

While the band took a break, we went outside on the deck to finish our wine and were thoroughly entertained by the geek squad sitting out there ranting about all things uber geeky. We then collected our coats, said goodbye to the hostess, collected our serve-ware and headed up that big hill back to the car. 

Back at the house, we settled onto the couch and sipped a glass of malbec. We talked of our dearly departed dogs and ex-spouses. The Courier seemed rather curious about my marriage. Later we headed off to bed. He had to go to work this morning, so we were up well before the sun. Oh, I had such a wonderful evening.

It is terrible. For awhile, I have wanted to leave Austin. The get-out-of-Austin clock has started ticking and I don't want to leave. Not now; not while I am loving it down here.

new perspectives

Last week, I, the non-baker, participated in a marathon Christmas cookie baking session. Surprisingly, my overall neglected kitchen skills came back quickly. In fact, I was one of the more experienced, which I find down right shocking. Hours upon hours of baking resulted in the hostess sending me home with cookies specifically for The Courier. 

I relayed this to The Courier and didn't get much of a reaction from him. As I am navigating this whole Courier landscape rather lightheartedly, I simply let it go. A few days later I received a text message from him inquiring if there were any cookies left. This lead to a fun exchange about the cookies, a few experiencing tragic accidents that lead him to ask if he needed to come rescue them. 

I was multitasking during this and at that moment, I determined exactly where this was headed. I sat on the fence. What is this... a booty call? Do I want a booty call or not? What do I want? 

I sat in that question for a short while. The findings included that I am a 37 year old woman who is very capable of making my own decisions; decisions that are correct for me. My realization is that I want to shed my mother's archaic ideas of love, sex, and relationships that have been smashed down my throat from an early age. The time has come for me to change the tape. Am I always going to get it right? No, but that's the point. 

And so I consented to The Courier coming over. I was pleasantly surprised that even though he's only been to my house once, he got here without asking for my address again. I like boys who pay attention and retain. I had been watching Jackass 3 because I needed a distraction from a few of my other multitasking activities. Imagine The Courier's surprise that I would be watching such a movie but we laughed at the various antics. Of course, we had to enjoy champagne while watching the movie because that's how I roll.

We had fun, caught up on life. Talked about Lulu because she is everywhere and even made a lasting impression on him. It wasn't what I would label as a booty call. Did we end up in bed at the end of the evening? Yes, we did. But I had no reservations or qualms about it. I attribute my comfort level to the fact that The Courier is different because we have known each other for awhile, so it isn't this whole brand-new, getting to know someone situation.

We have a party to attend later this week. I am truly looking forward to seeing him again.

bittersweet birthday

Happy birthday, Lulu. My dear little girl. Today I celebrate that your sweet, gentle soul came into this world ten years ago.

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i carry your heart with me  by e e cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
                                  

i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

dead to him

Ah, we must discuss the ridiculousness of last night's conversation with Super Dad.

So I found out from a friend on Sunday that my "date" and I were a little kissy at the party. I am half surprised but yet half not because we all know Patsy without food and plenty of liquor can lead to things.

Clearly others cannot laugh about some innocent drunk kissing.

So I called Super Dad last night because I too am a stubborn Italian half-breed and also because I now know why he was bent out of shape. Much to my surprise he picked up the phone and barked "what do you want?"

He was very stoic and his ears were closed. His stubborn mind made up and he was not listening to anything. I told him I learned on Sunday why he was upset (and quite frankly between you and me, I don't remember that part). I was honest. He was shut down. He claims I made it clear to everyone, in fact, I flaunted the fact I was with someone, and that he "certainly hopes that this man is worth it".

I corrected him on that assumption - remember bringing a man was his idea - and I wanted to make it clear to everyone that I was "with" someone. Why? Because I am so fucking sick and tired of Ass Grabber and Ass Grabber Jr making aggressive moves on me and in fact I did take it too far with the aid of my fall back behavior of nervousness and forgetting to eat due to said nerves equals Patsy drinking more than she should. My shy nervousness at uncomfortable situations makes that happen - not an excuse, as I explained to him, but a reaction I am trying to learn to control.

I asked him how he could live any sort of life if his sole answer is to radically cut out anyone and everyone from his life that committed a perceived wrong. I told him that regardless I would never stop caring about him and would always wonder how he was doing. He told me that he had cared about me a great deal but that I shouldn't worry because I would find someone else to care about me. As if that was the point of this whole thing!?!

I asked him straight out if there could be any form of fruitful negotiation and he emphatically stated no. He told me that if I was seeing someone else I should have just told him; clearly he'd filled in his own story line. I asked him how he could listen to Ass Grabber's stories to which he replied that he hadn't heard from Ass Grabber but that others had made phone calls to tell him of the show I put on. Honestly, I don't believe that.... I truly believe it was Ass Grabber because supposedly no one has his phone number and secondly who else at the office would give a flying fuck... maybe one chick but that is purely from a place of jealousy too.

I called him out on his Italian stubbornness and asked him if he thinks shutting important people out of his life on a whim is worth being alone. With that he said, I made my choice, that he had truly cared about me but I made my choice and he can't trust liars.

My goal was not to "get back together" but to maintain civility; after all, we are good friends. That isn't going to happen because he hung up on me when he was done tolerating me. But then again, we already knew the way the story would end.

Wackiness my dears, pure and simple wackiness....