The Baggage of Age

Another single friend of mine was over the other night and we started to discuss her many suitors and how none of them are ones that she takes seriously because of all of their baggage that they have. She expressed how she is unwilling to even open the door to her heart to let them in because she is always waiting for the other shoe to drop and waiting for their little ugly side to come to light.
Apparently a man she’s known for decades asked her if she trusted him and she was quick to tell him “hell no! I don’t trust any one”! She told him that at 40 years old with all that she has been through in life regarding men that trust is never just laid out for them on arrival.

It made me think of myself and my own trust issues. It made me think of when I was younger and I first started even being interested in the idea of love and sex. I would throw my heart open to any boy who would show me any interest. I would trust them completely and fall so hard so fast, every single time. The door to my heart was never closed. I would thrust it open for them and usher them in, while holding out a pair of slippers and a pipe to make them feel more at home. But now, much like my friend, after years of games, pain, lies and not quite getting all I wanted or needed, I never just throw the door open anymore. Now, if a man wants my love, he needs to knock on the door to my heart for awhile. Even if the knocking wakes my heart up I don’t just throw the door open. I may walk through it and shut it behind me or stand in it while it remains ajar. But it is never an easy thing to get me to open up.

Is this baggage that shuts us down a bad thing or a good thing? A heart is a terrible thing to just let anyone play with, yet I feel like the only time we can really be real with people is when we are coming from our hearts. But, speaking from the heart and acting on the hearts desires are different from leaving your heart open and letting someone in. But, can we have any kind of real loving wonderful relationships if we don’t fully open ourselves up? Because we have to remember that opening our hearts may bring us pain but it may also bring us a lot of wonderful.

Another therapy night with friends in LoLa-Land

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Is A cheat Always A Cheat?

Cheating seems to be in the air everywhere around me, it has me reeling. Are ALL men low down dirty dog assholes who can’t keep their little heads in their jeans? So many of my friends seem to be dealing with crushed hearts right now. Every man I have dated since I was married has either actively flirted with other woman, been searching for another woman or cheated on me.
I sit in complete awe and wonder about men. I love being in a relationship. I love being loved and feeling love for someone else. But, I truly wonder if I can ever have trust in anyone ever again, to be faithful?

I’m not stupid. I realize that woman are just as guilty of being cheats as men. I am guilty of being a cheat as well, I don’t like that I can say this but it’s true. I know how my situation went down and why. I also know the actions I took to rectify the situation. But, will i be more likely or less likely to do it again?
I know how I felt after cheating on my ex. I still have disgust for myself and my actions. I hope that I would be less likely to cheat because of that disgust. But, not all people are like me. I know countless people who cheat all the time with multiple people and act as if there are no issues. I know people who have had affairs for years with a person and never seem to want to stop.
Why not just walk away from the current partner? Obviously there is a issue in the relationship, So; why stay in it, if you can’t be faithful?
The other thing that gets me is the potential for diseases. Do these people use condoms? Do they consider their oblivious partners and how they could be spreading a STD’s to them? (I know when I strayed I wouldn’t go near him without a condom.) When will we have lawsuits where a person takes their ex to court for giving them a life threatening illness? I’m surprised I have not heard of those court cases yet?
So, once a cheat always a cheat? I hope not! How do we get past the fear and baggage that comes from being the one that’s been cheated on? Will it become more the norm in life while monogamy just dies off (much like marriage). Or will we all be so sick of being cheated on, that we just stop being in relationships at all?

Mini- Class Reunion

I don’t know how it started or how I even got roped into at all, but last night I met a few people that I graduated high school with at a local restaurant. What was interesting to me was that I didn’t hang out with any of these people during school. I knew them all and talked to them all, (it wasn’t like I didn’t know them) but I was not close with any of them.
It was rather an odd match up to. We literally came from all different clicks on campus. There was the gear head, the popular girl, the party girl, the stoner dude, the jock, the brain and me. I always considered myself pretty generic. I thought of myself as the wanderer and not really in a click. But, a friend told me recently that I was the hippy chick. She said you were always like “peace man”. So, let’s add the hippy to the group.

I was the hippy to them and yet after listening to all of their crazy antics, I realize I was the good girl. Most of them were getting drunk and doing drugs before school each day. Their stories were all about getting busted by the on campus “narks” or where they could buy alcohol around town as minors. I was like “really”? I had no idea so many people were getting fucked up before school.
I was kind of shocked and looked at them all so surprised and said, “damn I didn’t realize I was such a Good Girl In high school”? To which the jock lets out a huge laugh and says, “YOU WERE”!! It only took me a minute to remember why I was not drunk with all of them, I worked (An Ox to the core).

I got a job working at a card store when I was only 14. I was actually under the legal working age for our state to be able to get a paying job, but I lied about my age. I was so young I had to walk to work and have my mom pick me up afterwards if it was dark. I worked everyday after school from 3pm until closing, which was 6 or 8 during Christmas time. I remember I made $4.25 and hour (minimum wage) and during the 3 years I worked there I got 3 raises so I was making a healthy $5.00 per hour when I quit.

I guess that is why I missed all the good times in high school. I can’t say I mind. I spent my money on furniture and vacations instead of alcohol and drugs. Funny thing is I don’t think anyone else at the table got a college education, besides me. It doesn’t matter now, but I wonder how much our individual head spaces effected that. Did all their partying play a factor at all in their future lives? It’s not like I was always a good girl. I just caught the fever for mind altering substances in college instead of high school or junior high.

Oh well just another skip down memory lane in LoLa-Land.

Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride

Sometimes living in California is like being on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. You can just be quietly sleeping in your bed and the next thing you know all of the Nic-nacs you have on your shelves start shaking. All the doors securely shut start to rattle in their frames and then your bed starts moving. What really gets you, especially when you are on a second or higher floor in a building, is the swaying that starts. The entire building will sway like a swing in the wind. It is so incredibly eerie.

This all happened to me last night as I was sound asleep in my bed and a 6.1 earthquake trembled the earth near by. I am one of those people who actually enjoy earthquakes ( much like I enjoy Mr. Todd’s Wild Ride). But, last nights earthquake scared me. I was awoken before it started by the parakeets suddenly madly chirping in their cage. Then the rumbling of all my possessions. Last nights roller coaster ride seemed to last forever. I was so spooked by the swaying of my bedroom that I finally got up and ran to my stand in my doorframe.

I’m not new to the joys of living in
crazy California’s temperamental land. I am a true California native. I have never lived anywhere else. So earthquakes don’t bother me, like tornadoes don’t scare Oklahomans. ( I think those people are fucking crazy to live there). I remember waking up at my Nanas house in San Diego from a nap one afternoon, I was maybe 6. The room I was in had hardwood floors and the bed was on casters. I woke up to my bed jumping all around and moving. I thought there was a polterquiest in the room. I screamed and called out for my Nana. As soon as it was over she came to my room and stated laughing as the bed I was in was now in the center of the room and not up against the wall.

Everyone who was near San Francisco on the day the 6.9 earthquake of 1989 hit, remembers where they were and what they were doing. (Much like when Kennedy was shot). I was working at a card store standing in front of a glass counter and in front of several high glass shelves with glass figurines on them. Everything started to rattle and I remember looking outside and watching all the parked cars rolling back in forth in their parking spots. I ran out of the store and could see the concrete lift in a wave under the cars. It was crazy and I was shocked the concrete did not crack or the building crumble. Of course it did in other places causing catastrophic pain and loss; 60 people died that day.

I like earthquakes because I have never been in harms way do to one and neither have any of my family members. But, I am sure my feeling would be far different if that were not the case. I do see a crack now going down the length of the vaulted ceiling in my bedroom; So, that pretty much sucks. Since we do live in California earthquake insurance is insanely high and I don’t have any. Who cares, as usual, I’m just thankful I’m ok. I wish all the same for everyone else.

Just another wild ride in LoLa-Land

All Night Buffet

Yesterday I was not feeling well. I could not figure out if it was a flu or strep throat or what. All I know is my body ached, while my throat and neck hurt and I was exhausted. A friend brought me some frozen yogurt to sooth my aching throat. However when he arrived he brought in with him a blood thirsty vampire. ( I never even gave the fanger permission to come in). Apparently the little blood sucker left my friends garlic infested thin blood, for the sweet thick elixir of mine. Not aware of this creepy intruder I stayed pleasantly relaxed and happy in my nakedness. Even though my friend did not stay the fanged tyrant did, and decided to make me it’s unwilling all night buffet.

It wasn’t until 3 am that I even heard the buzzing of his flying around my head. Torturing me with the sudden knowledge that I was not alone. It is only now, after it’s night of feasting that I realize that I In fact slept with a blood thirsty demon last night. I realize what gorging it did through the night, as I rub my body with my hands, I can feel the 10 or 12 pock like bumps I now have forming on my arms, hands and neck.

I will now await in this unhappy realization for the itching to set in. Because apparently feeling I’ll wasn’t enough for me to deal with at once. I just hope that filthy pest did not give me bird flu or I’ll be really pissed ( and really sick ).

Just another day in LoLa-land.

The Coming Of Fall

You can see that fall is on it’s way again. The trees are dotted with reds and Orangish-yellow hues. The ground is suddenly being pelted by the weakest of the leaves. As they are ready to take the great fall to death before all their branch mates.

But it isn’t the hibernation of Mother Nature’s green life that makes me realize fall is coming, as much as it is her breath and her mood. Her slight weeping in the early mornings. Her dismal dreary afternoon where no sun could ever penetrate her fog. Her chill breath that brushes my hair off my shoulders and makes me hug myself.

Yes, fall is on it’s way as Mother Nature tends to her feelings. Getting ready for her grief from the past years pain, to take hold. She preps for the darkness of winter where she her self will fight her own painful depression.

Fall is just the beginning of the coldness, just as spring will be her rebirth. Spring we will feel her hopes again. Flowers and colors will surface everywhere. The sun will be visible once more and we will know that once again another Nature is happy.

Until the spring, please hold on tight.

The New Super Hero

Sound the horns for the New Super Hero has emerged; Welcome all, it’s “Corporate Man”!

Corporate Man is the newest of the cape crusaders! He can leap piles of paperwork in a single bound. He is faster at typing then his receptionist. Stronger than the egotistical assholes he has to suffer through meetings with. He is even more powerful then some heads of state.

Corporate Man comes with any tool a successful crusader should have. Pre-written contracts neatly stored in a secret pocket of his cape. Pocket protectors stored with a surplus of mechanical pencils, ball point pens, red sharpie and reading glasses, are stored in his handy crusader belt. His blue tooth, tablet, blackberry, and laptop all have different specialty pockets that line his corporate armor. The three current books he is reading are all in electric form stored in his cloud.

Corporate Man’s crusade is to save fledgling companies and to promote gifted individuals in the business world. He will astound you with his fast talking and witty advice. He will blow you away with his 40 minute power point presentation. He will defend his flock of business against all arch enemies by relaying lessons from great scholars and his ancestors who were quiet heroes themselves.

Nothing scares Corporate Man. Not even the fear of corporate take over he will defend all the attackers with his ability to think fast and make even faster decisions.

All will fear and admire the Corporate Mans skills. He will amaze everyone with his astounding knowledge while leaving a wave of memos and mission statements behind him, because he is Corporate Man.

No business will ever be the same again.

Arrest Me Please

The other night I headed north to a neighboring town for a well deserved yummy meal. When we pulled on to the major street running parallel with 101, we found ourselves following a police SUV with it’s emergency lights on. I figured it would soon be out of site or pulling over since those lights are typically used for driving violations or 911 calls.

Surprisingly the cop drove the suggested speed limit and we both ended up stopped at the next red light side by side. I asked him through my open window, ” did you know your lights are on?” As I point up to the top of his SUV. He looks down and flips the lights off and replies, ” I do now” and we both chuckled.
” I kept expecting you to just take off”, I say to him.
” No, no I’m not going anywhere ” he responds and then flashes my girlfriend and I this beautiful big smile. As I stared into the big blue eyed, uniformed Adonis, I could actually feel my ovaries flip over.

The light turned green and we went right and he went left. My girlfriend and I were quiet for a minute and then I said, ” I really want to go back and get a ticket”.
” NO SHIT!!” My friend bursts out and we both laugh. Now my friend has always been into men in uniforms but not me. So, I don’t even know how she was able to breath. (Of course she didn’t say anything, who knows, Maybe she wasn’t.)
Just another day in LoLa-Land

Questions Of Love

How does one break free of a special love and why would you want to?
What if the love has hurt you? Like standing to close to the fire pit; The flames are beautiful and exciting but if you get to close you will get burned.
Should you stand your ground and just put protective clothing on? Did we not come into this world butt naked? Should we not stay naked, mentally and emotionally as well?

I wonder do I give up on love to easily? I get hurt and I’m like a little kid who just got bit hard. I strike back, tell my friends and then stop talking to the man. But then I am just as quick to remember the great times and forget the bad ones? I don’t know how many times I romanced a past relationship in my mind, which had sent me into a melancholy state, only to go back to my diary and read all the horrible things that took place; Occurrences that I somehow misplaced in my memory bank.

Why does it seem harder to let go of the love that serves a special physical connection, even when the emotional may not be there? I don’t know how many relationships I have had where the sex is the last thing to go. Are we just all narcissist, looking to fulfill our own satisfaction, damn the heart if it gets in the way? Or is physical communication such a bonding act when love is involved that it has the ability to bring us back together? There were many times I felt a void between me and my wasbund until we made love and then it was like “oh there you are”. But we had been living under the same roof the entire time. Living together but bit being together.

Why do we torture ourselves so?

As you can see I have many questions rattling around in my mind. If you have any comments…. Please leave them.

Lemmon or…

I was sitting at the Genius Bar in the local apple store for the 3rd or 4th time in the year or so, that I have owned my phone. As I waited I looked at all the apple icons on every wall, on every computer, on all the screens, in all the window and on all the employees shirts, and I wondered, “here at Apple when you have a phone that’s a Lemmon, do they call it a Lemmon or a Bad Apple?”
Just the thoughts on my mind?

Previous Older Entries

Coloring Project – The Frog

Frog

2010 Summer Reading List

Sookie Stackhouse, the complete stories A touch of Dead
Finger Prints & Facelifts
His First Wife, Gracce Octavia
The promise of happiness, Justin Cratwright
Silk & Shadows
Wifey
The Honey Thief
The marriage
Ya ya Sisterhood book # 3
The Other Boleyn Girl
Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher
3 book flower series by Nora Roberts
The Kept woman
Twlight book # 4
twlight book #3

Coloring Project – The Swan