They Can't Take That Away From Me

Man. I’m a nostalgic mf’er these last couple of days.  I made it past my old anniversary without thinking of it.  Part of it is that I’m not really paying attention to the date, what with being on summer break. Part of it is that I think it FINALLY settled. I don’t feel the strong hurt I felt around my divorce, and the way my ex acted. I don’t worry about him as much. I even sort of accept my daughters not being in my life.  It sucked. Of course it sucked. But it is what it is. It’s sad that it ended the way it did, and sad that my ex was that person.

But.. I’m okay, and I’ve been okay for a long time now. The wounds are old.  I’m not saying they’re perfect, but they don’t sting.  A few weeks ago I teared up in the kitchen with Quinky and Traveler. A song Evan loved came on and I hadn’t heard it since we’d parted and I teared up. I realized it was the first time in a long time that I’d teared up about him.  I teared up more maybe because it was a moment when I remembered how much we loved each other, dancing in the kitchen.  I don’t really think about him much, and I don’t think about how we were really at all these days.  I’ve fallen in love again, and I’m a lot happier most of the time.  I love my ex because it’s the way I am built. But it doesn’t hurt anymore.  It’s more just that I hope he’s happy.

I think it’s healthy sometimes when long deep loves change.  In monogamy we stay because of duty, and security, and comfort. In poly sometimes we don’t acknowledge a relationship that isn’t whole. It can hobble along indefinitely because nobody has to be EVERYTHING to anybody, but really because it can be a crutch for not looking at how we love and are loved by THIS one person and how it’s not a whole or functional relationship. Other people fill serious gaps. Continue reading

Pierced!

So much has been going on.  I’ve been having outrageous fun and enjoying a few happy accidents.  And I finally pierced my pussy.

holiday piercingTraveler and Quinky Girl were not able to go to Traveler’s Family’s annual celebration.  That is very sad for them, as they love his family and he has NEVER missed a Christmas with them.  After a bit of commiseration though, we made something wonderful out of something sad.  And the something wonderful is the biggest most wonderful gift I got this season.  I had time with my loves!  Traveler and I enjoyed a holiday burlesque that was the most professional and beautiful burlesque either of us have seen.  Tremendous food and tremendous wine, and dancing and boobs and comedy and song. Wonderful!  It was insanely expensive, and cost way more than I’d planned.  But I’ll recover financially and he’s worth it.

And then Traveler and I and Quinky and Jonah and Jonah’s other partner and gussied up in medieval garb and hit a yule feast in Camden for Christmas Eve.  (funny, right?)  And on Christmas I spent the morning (after waking up excessively late) over a nice brunch opening presents before going to my dear old friend’s family Christmas.  Her family is terribly sweet, and welcomes me for the holidays.  I don’t have any family and am usually alone on the holidays, so this is INCREDIBLY appreciated and generous of them.  I didn’t stay super long because I’d hoped to help make the holidays nice with Traveler and Quinky Girl, who were missing their family, but even a little conversation and some hugs and the time with my friend lamenting her (nearly perfect) feast felt like home.  And then I had the juiciest, most flavorful, most tender and delicious tenderloin I’d ever tasted.

I loved that we ended up talking about real things around the table, eating wonderful food and talking about Quinky making a big decision.  It’s something when the people you love honor you by getting real about deep shit.

There has just been such good time.  I have to admit the holidays generally make me sad.  It’s hard to try to plan enough and to bolster myself during the holidays.  I’m lucky enough to have found my family, and it’s hard to be apart from them over the holidays.  But this year was wonderful.  Baking cookies with my loves and my kittens, running around ragged getting everything done, washing so many dishes with my days of cookie baking I have perma dish-pan-hands.  And I loved it.

And then today…

I finally realized a dream I’ve been planning for forever.  I got my beautiful labia rings.  There’s never a super great time to stab your pussy, and to wait for it to heal for almost a month for anything about about 3 months for tougher things.  Traveler helped me out and sent me off with a “till we meet again” passion, and then he came with me. Continue reading

Proof In Pudding- Broken Bones

I broke my foot.  I was walking in these clogs, and turned my ankle and stumbled, and *snap*.  I had a jones fracture.  It’s a break of the 5th metatarsal, or basically the bone in the middle of your foot on the pinky side of your foot.  Fuck it sucks.  Just a quick little twist.. and bam.  I feel like an old woman.  Who breaks their foot walking?!?!

jones fracture

I cannot express to you enough how much this sucks and is affecting my life.  It’s very hard for me to walk far.  My one good leg gets so tired and sore.  If I move it the wrong way, put any weight on it.. anything.. bam.  When I did it I was walking into my house and stopped dead in my tracks and wretched.  It was so painful I hyperventilated a little and had to sit on the ground.  I was SHOCKED by how much it hurt.  I assumed it would stop, like a terrible pain of stubbing a toe or something.  Nope.  I was planning this wonderful weekend.. dinner and drinks with Quinky Girl and Bawdy Storytelling, Brick Con (the Lego Convention) a homeshow, and a long date with Traveler.  Dammmit! I was soooo excited.  I love that stuff.  I’ve been stoked about Traveler and Quinky Girl redoing their kitchen for months.  It is SO MUCH vicarious pleasure for me.  Nope.  Continue reading

My Familia

Traveler and I had a lovely stay-cation for our anniversary that was briefly interrupted, maybe happily interrupted.  I am a mushy mush ball, but it’s just that I love my family.

family crazy mug shotQuinky Girl was out camping with Jonah and had been called back to work for some work junk. Traveler and I had been to the swing club that night and blissed out on each other and a bit of fun people watching.  We were sitting by the pool watching all the happenings and not really involved much in them, and we were holding hands on the table.  At one point we weren’t even talking, were just petting each other’s hand and lost in a gaze.  I love it when he does that.  And then we kissed.  We’d been kissing on and off all night, but this one was different.  “Mmm.  Let’s get out of here”.  I needed to take him home right then.

We stopped for gas and to use the bathroom, and we were playful, and I love it when we’re like that.  I was thinking of the long night still ahead and the candles and the wine and the music, his skin and his kisses.  I love the simmer.

And I saw I’d missed a call from Quinky Girl.  Oh no.  We weren’t able to take our phones in the club, so I’d missed her call and message.  She was having to come for the night, and she was trying to let us know.  I called her back while Traveler was still pumping the gas and got the skinny from her.  She was saying she’d be fine and she could go stay at Jonah’s house but that she’d have to spend the night in the city and deal with this work stuff.  Of course that wasn’t necessary.  Traveler and I had been at the house, but we could go to my place with no problem. More concerning was this big stressful work thing.  I asked if we could all go have a drink and she could tell us about it and she said to just meet her at the house and she’d make tasty libations.

family centaurTraveler got into the car and I caught him up.  We drove and I caught him up on what little I knew.  We were about 40 minutes away and had some time on the bridge after we’d caught up to chat.  I told him  that I loved this.  He asked what “this” I loved, and I told him I felt really honored and lucky and blessed to feel like I have a family.  I talk about them as my family here and Quinky and I have talked about family, but I haven’t talked much to Traveler about family, aside from saying that I felt he was becoming a part of mine.  I told him I loved that we could do this, could call on each other or offer to be there for each other and that it touched me deeply that we’d be there for all these little  messes and that maybe if there was a big one we’d be there then too.  He said “of course we would”.  He held my hand and said that he loved it too, and how lucky we are.  He asked if I minded a little side trip in our evening and I assured him I didn’t.  I asked if he minded, and he smiled and said he didn’t either.

I think this is rare, to find your people and to feel this sense of belonging and all of these ties.  It touches this deep deep deep ache and need in me and fills me.  I thrive on loving and being loved and on collaborating in love.  It wasn’t that I didn’t mind… it was that I loved being here.  I feel honored.  I loved that she could call and that we’d be there just as I know if of her and Traveler too.  It is continually precious and sweet to have this kind of experience.  This is precious, this moment.  The Greeks believe in a few kinds of love.. eros (passion), philia (mental love-friendship), storge (affection- more like that of a parent for a child or of putting up with something), and agape (love of the spirit-unconditional, familial).  I was thinking how many of these are met here in my familia.

family choke

I know I’ve talked about this a lot, my need and my gratitude, but I feel that like a romantic relationship I fall more and more in love here.  I don’t want to blink or miss a thing.  I want to celebrate each tiny milestone and note every little nuance.  I want to be wholly and fully awake.  This.  Remember this.  So rare and so precious are these salad days.

I take all of these shiny moments and note each one.  Evidence.

She called us.  He gave me a key.  She talked to me about power of attorney and swears she’ll do as I ask.  He said we are lucky.  We all said how rare this is.  We watch football.  I make dinner.  We watched “Meet Me In St. Louis” on the phone together.  I told her about Ohana.  I excavated the stump in his yard.  He helped me spray-paint the decorations on my cabinet.  We cleaned the gutters.  They hold me.  I hold them.  We chat on Google.  She sends me pics.  He shopped for all the things I’d need for my apartment with me.  They asked me to help with their kitchen.  He got the things I needed when I was sick.  I drop off things when they are sick too, salted caramel ice-cream and homemade chicken soup.  I plucked his eyebrows and his ears.  She gave me a flower.  We watch TV.  I tied her corset.  She massaged my aching neck and eased my headache.  They bought a bottle of wine for all of us to drink- next year.  His toiletries are in the medicine cabinet and the shower.  She invites me to Jonah’s parties.  We sit on the porch and we sorted labels after a hard day.  She makes us dinner.  She hugs me.  It’s safe to be in love with her and to tell her, as safe as love ever is anyway.  We want to go to Oregon.  She wishes I was there with his family.  I wish my family would meet her too.  And him.  We plan little things.  He said it made sense for us to grow old together, and even if it’s just a dream it’s a good dream and I love that he shared it.

A long long time ago RollerGirl and I talked about poly relationships as a system of webs.  There are thick and thin silks and the webs are all individual and unique, each relationship it’s own web, and all interconnected and effecting each other.  If you break one of the silks, the connected webs feel it, and thicker strands are felt wider.  Pulling  here pulls there and snapping back shakes the entire web.  And I think that is true.  These connections are silks, so delicate and so strong, and I find myself celebrating every silken strand we make.  family spiderman

 

This One's For Me

Girl laying on her bed wearing headphones by: http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0k0nznZy61qes9dro1_500.jpg

Girl laying on her bed wearing headphones by: http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0k0nznZy61qes9dro1_500.jpg

Holy typos and unfiltered writing!  This one was supposed to save as a draft and I accidentally published it.  Correcting now.  There will be two posts today.  I was holding on to this one and accidentally put it out, and I have one from this fucking amazing performance I have to tell you about today too… so well.. I’m releasing both.  ________________________________________________

Driving home today from a fun night of trivia I heard a song that made me think of someone.  Music brings back a person or a moment.  Do you do that? I do that all the time.  I walked through the door to my apartment and I thought of a song I haven’t heard in a million years.  It was my mom’s.  Well, technically it was Kenny Rogers’.  It’s this song about a woman who just keeps having faith in a man and missing him.. sleeping alone.  It’s called “She Believes in Me”.  I’ve listened to it a lot when I was missing my mother.  She loved Kenny Rogers and played that song and a bunch of Dolly Parton too.  She didn’t listen to music very much, my mother, but she loved those two.  Listening to “She Believes in Me” tonight I thought about how different I saw that song than Kenny Rogers wrote it.

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If You Were an Ass

luck clover“If you were an asshole, it wouldn’t be because of bad luck that you have no friends”.  This was Ph.D’s answer to my agreeing that I am ridiculously lucky with the people in my life.  He said, “It’s not just luck that you’ve created a circle of people who love you that are awesome.  You’re awesome and you picked good people and treated them well and they love you”.  Sweet, no?

Ph.D. has been visiting from Colorado for the last 5 days or so and we’ve done a whirlwind Seattle and meeting with the murder and friends kinda deal.  We’ve been crazy booked and just having the nicest times.  We played games with Cleveland and his wife, Quinky Girl, Traveler and Peaches, and we met up with my friends Tex and Fishnet, and went camping with Chicago and Chicago Boy.  We’ve have wonderful meals and lovely conversations and it was fun to show my loves and friends off to him and him off to my loves and friends.  He’s totally smitten with my whole family and circle, and it was fun to see them all through his eyes too.

You know that feeling when you share something you like with someone and they experience it and you sort of vicariously see it new through them?  It was like that.   Continue reading

Tis the Season to Break Up

In the last few days I’ve kinda broken things off with Boss, talked to a dear friend going through a divorce and another with a long anticipated relationship that didn’t grow legs, and another who is parting from his very long-term wife.  It’s going around.  Talking to my first friend going through a divorce, and there in the thick of the most painful bits, I wished I could show her my memories and my mind like something from Harry Potter.  I so feel for where she is at.  I’m just getting out of it myself.  It still looms large in my rear view.  And it sucks, but it does get better.  I have been mourning but also mostly happy this past year.  I realized, I’m doing quite well.

In a bunch of these break up talks, the idea of all the relationships you mourn in a single break-up came up.  There’s the relationship you actually had, the one you dreamed of, the one that now will never be, and the one that really was and could have been.  There is reality, and making the best of it, and hope and dreams and history.  I agreed that it had made me crazy too.  I thought about all those years of sacrifice and sea duty and deployments and long work hours and missed birthdays and holidays and Christmases and whatever that I’d done that for “someday”, a someday that would now never be.  There wasn’t going to be a time when we’d live how we’d dreamed.  We weren’t going to build that big garage and workshop and we weren’t going to build custom motorcycles together or see the Willoughby parades from the end of our street where we lived in our cute little bungalow.  Silver haired “us” is gone.  Poof.

tattooed coupleSo much loss in a break-up.  Even a pretty small one like Boss and me.  I spent most of yesterday missing him and wanting to talk to him.  I left that up to him, as to how and when and if we’d talk.  I miss chatting here and there all day with him.  It leaves a hole.  But it seems relationship change, like so many things, is inevitable.

I wonder about this desire to have more permanent bonds and how rare they are and how unhappy it makes us to want them so much.  I think about unlikeliness that most of us will get these forever bonds.  Most of us, if we are lucky, have at least a few romantic lives.  I’m certainly not alone out here making my life anew.  LOTS of us break-up and start over and build our new lives.  It is weird that we don’t talk about this as being the way it generally IS.  We talk about trying for forever and that some of us will face loss, but the truth is that MOST of us face loss.  People grow and change and form connections and shit happens.  In fact, shit usually happens.  And then there we are feeling like we’re the only ones, like we failed.  The majority of marriages end in divorce and most relationships don’t last till death.  A lot has been said about this maybe not being the best standard to judge a relationship too.  If both people are alive at the end of a relationship, and they separate to find better ways that work for them, if they shared a time and were happy and grew, is that relationship really a failure?

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Maybe It Needed to Hurt

I lost a patient today.  A 32 year old man who came back fucked up from Afganistan, with a wife and three children, and schizophrenia that set in while he was in country, died today.  We don’t know if he messed up taking his meds or if he did it on purpose.  All I could think was about his baby.  She is just over 6 months old and he’s brought her to group a number of times.  She’s a tiny olive-complected child, with soulful brown eyes and a tiny little mouth.  She’s the kind of baby that makes no noise.  She just stares in wonder at everything.  Her name is Sophia.

He’s a funny guy and a good dad.  He always came to group and he knew he has schizophrenia and wanted to do right by his kids.  He worked hard at his recovery, putting together a nice life for his family.  He had a big truck he washed every weekend and a really pretty wife.  He did homework with his kids.  He ushered at his church.

Traveler and Quinky Girl got back into town on Sunday night and I gave them back their keys and got kisses.  I’ve been achingly missing them while they were gone and it was so fucking nice to see them.  I sent Traveler a message yesterday morning telling him that I was looking forward to our date Friday or Saturday but that I really missed him and asking if we could have a dinner or a coffee or something before then.  He said he’d like to see me too and we scheduled Tuesday night, tonight.  We didn’t really have a specific plan.. just something with a snuggle, whatever.  This morning Quinky Girl popped up and asked if I’d like to have a little dinner with her and Traveler during the time I’d planned to have Traveler.  I missed her like crazy too, and I didn’t to miss out on seeing her too, so I said yes, but admitted I also really needed a few Traveler snuggles.  She’s totally cool like that and we set up our dinner.  Later in the afternoon she texted that Peaches was coming too.  I love Peaches and was excited about that, but I was bummed I wouldn’t get my snuggles.  Then my patient died.

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Whew!

Every once in a while as I leave work, I get the distinct feeling that I’m escaping. Today the sun is out and it’s raining. Kinda perfect actually.

Things have been really busy lately, but good. I am not so eagerly bidding Traveler and Quinky Girl an adieu as they head on a trip to see family.

I am finally seeing a movie I really wanted to see and was asking Traveler to go to. He kept saying yes and then things just kept making it not happen. I jokingly asked him if he was afraid to be seen with me in public. :-). It’s that movie “Her”. It’s at the Sundance theater and I’m hitting it with Boss. We’re both a little broke so we’re going elsewhere first for happy hour cheap vittles.

Tomorrow I am doing nothing and I’m kinda excited about it. I keep saying I’ll paint more on this latest piece, and I think I’ll make my favorite salad and do that. I’m the kind of person who loves and craves being around people, but then I need days here and there to just be by myself. A lot of people seem to need either lots of social interaction to recharge their batteries or time alone to recharge their batteries. I seem to need both.

Having said all that though, I miss Traveler and Quinky Girl already. I’m glad that Peaches is watching the cats, and has asked me to fill in one of the days. It will be nice to be around their fur babies and their space. I will TRY not to do anything too horrible. Muahahahaha.

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Love is a Legacy

She said “I like to think that the love we make never really disappears”.  Yes.  That.
I answered, “sounding woo woo here.. I don’t think it does”.
She talked about the love as energy sent out into the world and you know how you just know that things are true?
I thought about this a lot, after I had had my last pregnancy and there wouldn’t be any more.  When I understood I would never have children I thought about it.  When my father died and my ex-husband and I were going through his accumulated stuff and deciding what to keep and what to shed, and when we’d packed our precious cargo of the things I’d keep from my dad, I had thought over and over about that the things I was saving, the things that were so precious to me and what would happen to them when I died.  I felt like I was preserving something of my dad and that I couldn’t do it well enough.  Some day someone will go through my things too.  My paintings and my fathers will get thrown away.  My half-finished or miraculously-someday-completed novel and the pictures of everyone I love, my precious books and my short stories and my motorcycle jacket will all be trash someone has to deal with.
match and a pile of ashes

match and a pile of ashes

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