Of Vampires and Dating.........

Okay, so I think I've finally figured out my wild and ancient attraction to the formerly known as "Would-Be Prince Charming" now referred to as my "Cave Man" friend.......who I am soooooo ready to kick to the curb for a geriatric chance with Remo who has now officially entered the online dating pool!

*sigh*

But, if Remo's not willing to drive two hours to Tucson, he sure ain't driving to Californication to take his chances on love or lust with a slightly crazy "older" woman.

*double sigh*

Anyway...I remember now...I've sworn off on-line dating due to the horror I've experienced and I much prefer to fantasize about teen vampires like Edward Cullen in Twilight. I couldn't wait until I finished the book to see the movie, so last night after our Thanksgiving feast, my dinner hostess and I hit the movie theatre for the late showing!



Oh yeah!

S-i-z-z-l-i-n-g.

As I was sayin' before I got sidetracked by Remo.....I've figured it out! It came to me when I was about 100 pages in to the book...it all came together, just like when Bella put a few clues together and used that ever important Google feature on her computer. It was so very simple, really....considering my investigative nature.

CAVE MAN IS A FREAKIN' VAMPIRE!

Oh for sure!

He talks and writes kind of in that immortal way; somewhat poetic and definitely cryptic at times, and I attempt to seek out the words that I want to think are meant for me in his journals. He can infuriate me with his aloofness and yet I am intensely spellbound. In his presence I find it difficult to stay away from him, as if he is a magnet and I am being pulled into his energy field. Yet, we've only shared a few awkward hugs and he turns nearly to stone. We've only touched accidently and for me, it's been like an electrical storm. (Personal to Cave Man-Okay, so I minimized it! There you have it!)

He looks into my eyes and says..."Stop it, you're doing it again!" without explanation but with a knowing smile!



I mourn and cry like a puppy torn from it's nursing mother too soon, when I must return home from a visit. He's awakened a part of me that now truly believes in cosmic connections and intense chemical attractions. Just like Edward breathing the intoxicating scent of his beloved Bella, I am drawn to this pale-faced man who prefers to hide in his cave from the "others."

And then on top of it, he recently told me about when we were together at dinner all those years ago..that he just wanted to reach out and touch my neck!

See! MY NECK!! Get it??



It's my own version of Twilight! He's my personal Edward the Vampire and I want to be his Bella!

Forever!

Yep, my love story and I HATE IT!

Damn it!

Be Careful or You'll End Up in My Next Blog Entry!

As IF you couldn’t tell, this week pretty much sucked, despite my attempts to keep my mood light-hearted with an entry on those endearing quirks of mine. That kick in the pants Letter to Me was helpful though. I actually found my self accomplishing a few things today and even singing along with the radio a time or two. Not singing well, but enjoying myself nonetheless.



Sometimes we depressive types use any excuse we can find to withdraw into that disturbing DARK SIDE of ourselves. Having always enjoyed my own fascinating company, it’s not hard to seek out a reason and relish that time of self-indulgence, and reflection in a fluffy, warm bed. Besides, we have chocolate on the Dark Side and well, they know me there. I‘ve been a regular visitor over the past few years.

But, it’s really starting to get old and I’d much rather spend time happily doing other things than pulling the covers up over my head, and watching a fictional “LOVE Story” that I’ve written, take place in living color on a screen in my misfiring brain.




I had to laugh at my friend Lisa’s comment on my Letter to Me entry where she said, “I take it the weekend date with Mr. Possible Prince Charming didn't go too well…”

Actually, I thought it went fantastically well and therein lies the problem!

The Would Be Prince Charming, who will now be referred to as my Cave Man Friend-and I have known each other for many years; beginning back when he was drop-dead gorgeous Sergeant in his SERT (SWAT) uniform providing outstanding motivation and “Leadership” training to a group of us SERT and Negotiation Team Leaders.



I was the young, cute and disgustingly skinny Lieutenant in charge of my facility’s Negotiation Team and there to learn, but I think I remained totally distracted by being Hot for Teacher, and mesmerized by his every word during that week. Even if I weren’t the somewhat puritanical woman I’ve been my whole life, and was inclined to pursue him…he admittedly wouldn’t have given me a tumble, considering SERT his “mistress.”



But, as luck would have it a couple years later, we ended up spending a few days conducting an audit at a facility down South, where we spent some time hanging out after work. We walked, talked and shared dinners in an amazingly comfortable way. I felt an immediate emotional connection, like finding a new best friend.

He’d later tell me that he felt the same connection and that’d I’d given him a glimpse of how “easy” a relationship could be with the right person (That admission led to at least part of my screenplay), considering his disastrous marriage which had just been complicated by the addition of a new baby. After that, we’d run into each other briefly a time or two during our careers.

Had circumstances and "timing" been a little different along the way, maybe we would have had a mad, passionate love affair and been done with it, or maybe we’d would have fallen madly in love, been together all this time and saved one another from the disturbing depths of depression we both sank into, separately-over the past 4 or 5 years. (It’s my damn love story and blog, so I’ll write it as I would have hoped it would have been!)

Or maybe………..*sigh*

Despite some long stretches of non-contact, at times one or the other would eventually reach out and we’d reconnect via email and telephone calls. Why did we continue to seek out one another? We were both single and available, but we never would take the next step.

Now?

Again?

Here we are, now retired and lonely. Both climbing out of the abyss and learning to live again or maybe learning to LIVE for the very first time. Finally. Healing. Letting go of pasts that nearly destroyed us and looking forward to a brighter future. A reality that we‘re each creating for ourselves. A major shift in consciousness.

However, we hadn’t actually seen each other in probably 15 or more years, until my recent first visit to his home/cave in October. Of course, we weren’t the sexy young things that we were way back then. Time had taken it’s toll, but I felt the connection remained as it was; just so very comfortable.

Easy. I could get used to this EASY.

I began to think that the “meant to be” script I’d written may actually ring true.


To be continued…………………


A girl can wait for the right man to come along but in the meantime that still doesn't mean she can't have a wonderful time with all the wrong ones.

~Cher

If I Could Write a Letter to Me

If I Could Write a Letter to Me....is a hit country song, by Brad Paisley. In that song, he's an adult and speaks of wanting to write a letter to himself back when he was in high school...and share things he's learned about how his life would eventually turn out.

Recently, I noticed a few blogs that I follow had posted "Open Letters" that they'd written to themselves. Since I have been having a pity party of major proportions in the past few days, I wrote this to ME to give myself a swift kick in the rear!

I think it's working! :)





Dear Me,

WTF is wrong with you? Look at you! What’s happened to you?

You are a friggin’ mess. Pathetic in so many ways. Yes, I said “pathetic” because I know how much you like the truth. That’s right, p-a-t-h-e-t-i-c…and it’s about time someone gave you a serious wake-up call.

Oh yeah….for the past few months, you‘ve been on a spiritual quest…a big self-improvement kick; but who could tell by your latest pity party? What is that all about? You are on your third day of wallowing in your self-imposed misery! This one’s almost for the record books.

If you aren’t sitting around in your pajamas with tears streaming down your face, you are “taking to your bed” with that woe is me attitude. Why don’t you just velcro your wrist to your forehead?

Is that your inner-child I hear singing, “Nobody likes me, everybody HATES me, I’m gonna eat some worms?” Oh, that’s right, it’s not worms…it’s chocolate, milkshakes and fast food you’re eating. Why don’t you try some worms….they’ve probably got less calories and they’re certainly more nutritious.

How long has it been since you’ve cooked for your family? Are you proud of the fact that you’ve disconnected so much that everyone has to fend for themselves around here? What happened to that schedule that you talked about, where everyone was going to pitch in and have a night to cook and clean the kitchen? Are you so paralyzed with apathy that you can’t even do a simple schedule so you can all eat a home-cooked meal? I know, it’s just so much easier to throw a $20 at the kids and tell them to run through the drive through. What a wimp! And….you wonder why you are putting on weight!

Do you realize that you’ve nearly put on every bit of that weight that you lost last year? I know you’ve looked in the mirror lately and it’s bothering you that you are FAT! Yes, FAT! I said it even though you prefer the word “pudgy!”

Do you remember how you felt when you were thinner? You were struttin’ your sexy self! The kids were callin’ you HOT MAMA!! People didn’t even recognize you because you looked so good and of course, you weren’t isolating yourself then! You were so faithful about your diet journal, and exercising! You love to walk! What happened? Is it that isolation crap again? You don’t want anyone to see you? More of that stupid self-pity because you are aging, and you’ve let yourself go?

Vanity…Thy Name is Woman!

You know you look pretty damn good for a woman your age, and you can look better, if you do your part. Get busy! Get going on that exercise! YOU are retired for God’s sake! You can’t say you don’t have the time! In fact, I think part of your problem is you have too much time on your hands. Don’t you?

Didn’t you just buy a treadmill? You don’t have a single excuse for NOT exercising! Yeah…I know you live in the mountains and it’s Winter. That’s why God made coats, hats and gloves. If the weather’s nice, you can go for a walk and who knows…you may find some great photo ops while you’re out. Or, you can listen to some of that music on your fancy new iPod. You’ve got an incredible music library on that thing. Surely you can find some motivating music to get you going! And… you can use it while you walk on the treadmill if it’s cold outside. Didn’t you put that treadmill in a place where it can easily be put in position to see the television while you’re walking on it? Puhlease!!! Get moving!

And…..while you are at it, how about doing a little housework! Housework is exercise and just getting this filthy place in shape will lift your spirits.

Good Lord woman, can you even kick your way through your messy bedroom? No wonder you want to stay in bed! I bet you just can’t stand how incredibly nasty you’ve let this house become! Yes, it’s your fault! You have four people living here; 2 adults and 2 that are nearly adults. A few years ago this place was always spotless! A little cluttered at times, but clean!!!

Where’s your backbone? Can you provide some boundaries and expectations for those slovenly people that are living in your home? Sometimes I find it hard to believe you worked in a prison for 25 years and were so successful. Like Papa used to say…“Would you put up with that shit from an inmate?” NO? Well, then why do you let your kids walk all over you and mess up your beautiful home? What about that chart?? Remember? That was agreed upon by all involved and you just failed to get it done. Say what you mean…and mean what you say! It’s not that damn complicated.

Oh, and I totally understand that you are approaching that milestone birthday in a few weeks and you‘re feeling a little “old!” Well, you are a very youthful 55, and besides, 55 is not that old! You need to quit yer bellyaching as two of your sisters didn’t make it to age 40! So, why don’t you try being a little more grateful for attaining that age and having a wonderful retirement income! There’s lots of people out there who are still working for a living and you’ve got all this time to finally do what you want in life and instead you are sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Isolating yourself, again. Do you see how absolutely absurd that is?

Yes, I know you want to find a soul mate; someone who’ll be loving, kind and giving. Like you. Yes, you are a wonderful woman and would make a great lover and wife and that person is out there, somewhere! You thought maybe your Would-Be Prince Charming would be that “someone.” But, he’s made it clear that he’s not interested in anything more than being friends. He’s being "careful" and not open to a “relationship” at this point in his life. Yes…it’s too bad. His loss. But…damn it…does he need to bust you upside of the head with a 2x4 to get that through your thick head?

Remember when you were in high school and you had a crush on Cathy Cave’s brother and you let him know it? He wrote in your yearbook, “Forget it Lisa, it’s not going to happen!” It’s pretty much just like that here. What part of NO don’t you understand?



He said you’d be much "more attractive" to the right person, when there’s more “balance” in your life. Which is probably a pretty nice way of saying you’re kind of a mess right now Lisa. So…get to balancing!

You know…..there’s so much more I could say right now…but I think I’ve beat you up enough for now. I am sure you know that I love you and I am doing this in that spirit of love. You really need to get your shit together Lisa!

Let’s set a couple of goals to get started. Tomorrow, you’ll make those kitchen charts. That’s an easy one, right? Monday, you’ll start exercising again! You can start out slow. Let’s say a half-hour walk outdoors or on the treadmill.

Baby steps darlin’.

Deal?

Deal!

You‘ll be just fine! Trust me! I am here for ya!

Love,

Me

Flyin' My Freak Flag Proudly

My new Blogger friends, Frankie and Bella, who are identical twins and cobloggers from Australia; which is pretty dern special in itself-did an entry yesterday in which they posted some, well...oddities about themselves, entitled Flying Your Freak Flag.

They asked their readers about little quirks that they may have; the kind that make you somewhat neurotic, a little freaky or just plain uniquely YOU! You know…endearing stuff. The stuff that makes your teenager want to divorce your creepy ass because, let's face it you are just too bizarre.

It brought to mind a nifty Al-Anon sayin'...."You are only as sick as your secrets!" which got me to thinkin' how really special I am. My endearing quirks are probably pretty mild, in comparison to some people...like maybe Remo's...but I think they make for good blogging and I'd like to "share."

I reveal these oddities with great risk, knowing all too well that my Would Be Prince Charming may never again invite me to his safe haven, as he already has seen me drink one glass of wine and break into considerable sobs while we watched What Dreams May Come, with Robin Williams. I think he found me beyond hope at that point, with "ISSUES!" :)

Dear God! I thought Robin Williams only did comedies, but I am not "well read" when it comes to movies. I can get emotional all over again just thinking about that film as the whole damn family died! I am such a girl........

But, back to the task at hand.........



Flies: Yes, your garden variety, household black flies. I cannot and will not sleep or even be able to handle being in a small room with a FLY or Flies! I had a recurring dream when I was little, about being in a small room, with no doors and no windows, with a continual buzzing that I believe was a fly. It may have been a bee, who knows, but I've found it's much more likely that one would have a fly in the room, than a bee. It's my freaky nightmare, so I've chosen the antagonist to be an annoying and terrifying fly whose BUZZing gets increasing louder when I struggle to find my way outta the room. The horror!!! Anyway, I once broke a globe on the bathroom light in my master bath while chasing a fly with a towel; finally killing it so I could get some sleep!



Chapstick-Since I was old enough to provide for myself, I been addicted to Chapstick. SERIOUSLY addicted. The store brand will sometimes do, but for the purposes of this journal, we'll call it Chapstick. I must have Chapstick with me at all times! If I am not wearing lipstick, then I must have Chapstick on my lips. I probably have the softest lips in town because I use it constantly and will even put it on my lips in the middle of the night, if I happen to wake up. There's one in my nightstand, one in my purse, one on my desk and if I go for a walk without my purse, I will put a Chapstick in my pocket. If for some unGodly reason I wouldn't have access to my Chapstick, I would begin to panic and would have to go to the nearest drugstore or handy 7-11, to pick up a new one. After that I would regain my composure. I know...they have meds for that kind of behavior.



Dirty Hands-I HATE MY HANDS TO BE DIRTY!! I mean dirt..dirty or greasy dirty. ICK! I dunno, but maybe my neurotic mother or grandmother used to wash my hands a little too often when I was a kid. (I am also somewhat germophobic, but that's the next paragraph) So, I pretty much don't like to use my hands mix meatloaf, grease the bottom of baking pans with butter, garden without gloves-because soil under my nails is torture-and I seriously doubt that I'd enjoy throwing a clay pot on a spinning wheel, even though I'd think I'd like to try, because it would really bother me to have my hands THAT dirty!



Germophobic-I guess I am doing my part to ensure we as a Nation end up with supergerms, because I carry hand sanitizer and use it pretty regularly. Of course I only use it if I don't have a sink available to suitably wash my hands after touching nasty objects used by millions of people on a regular basis. Like after pumping gas, handling money, door handles or shopping carts! Albertson's has my business just because they offer free sanitizing wipes for cleaning up the shopping cart push bar, just as you walk in the building. What service!

Yes..I know that is what an immune system and positive thinking is for, but on the other side of the coin, I seldom get sick.

Finally......



Cotton balls: Touching a cotton ball to me, is the equivalent of someone scratching their fingernails on a chalkboard!!! UGGGGHHHH!!! I just can't stand touching a REAL cotton; like they stuff in pill bottles! The texture is just simply unbearable!!! My children think it's hysterical and love to come up to me with a cotton ball in hand and try to rub it on me!

So...If you'd ever like to torture me, just put me in a small room with padded cotton walls, just after I've pumped gas, without my Chapstick, and release a few big black flies.

I'll either create an exit, or die trying.

Oh...Him Again

A couple of weeks ago, I ran into “Him” at the grocery store, AGAIN. It was about the 4th time in a 6 month period that we nearly crashed carts while quietly absorbed in the wonder of the vast assortment of cheese to select from in the cold case aisle of our friendly Albertson’s or while perusing Save Mart‘s meat section. Actually, this time I was coochie-cooing the adorable toddler grandson of one my Bunco partners; who I saw standing in the Express Lane, when he approached and wrapped me in a big bear hug!

I smiled in amazement at the odds of running into “Him” again in one of the two major grocery stores in our town, knowing there are really no accidents in this web of constant cosmic connections, but then discounted it with my rational side, thinking “Well, we’ve all got to eat!”

Me: “I sent you a card the other day!”

Him: “I got it today!”

Me: “Really! How about that!”

Him: “Hey, I’ve been meaning to call you about going out to dinner! How about this weekend?” he smiled enthusiastically. (I recalled hearing exactly that statement from him during our last supermarket encounter!)

Me: “Ummm. Actually, I am busy this weekend. I am going outta town! You know I mentioned in my card that I am going to Al-Anon now…learning to deal with things involving the girls…so I am taking a little time for me this weekend and visiting a friend up North! I am really starting to enjoy life and my retirement!” I said sincerely with a big smile.

Of course, I am not stoooopid-I didn’t mention that the friend I was going to see was my would-be Prince Charming who surprisingly had invited me back for a second weekend visit at his safe haven. And…I began to feel pretty damn smug that there were TWO men who seemed interested in my fabulous company in the same weekend and I was turning one down!) “Life just keeps getting better and better!” I said.

Him: “Well…How about next weekend? Let’s plan on next weekend. Will that work?”

Me: “Sure,” I said, “Give me a call!” He said he’d call, then kissed me on the cheek as we said our quick goodbyes and I walked away a little lighter on my feet thinking I was doing alright for a pudgy woman who was nearly 55 years old.

Feast or famine? It was my turn for a feast! You know…the…So many men…so little time stuff! I hadn’t felt this good since I paid eHarmony to send me tons of so-called “compatible singles” like dick, yes dick…not Capital D-Dick….just dick……that I could turn down without even a word. Just a click of the mouse and dick…….and his friends were gone! GAWD….how I hated the whole internet dating stuff and I’ve vowed to NEVER, ever do that again.

It was wonderful to consider that the two single men now sorta interested in my company were actually compatible in my book. I previously worked with both and we’d achieved the same success in our careers and we were all once extremely passionate about our work. It’s nice to have someone in your life who understands that part of you that can get excited about placing someone in handcuffs (get your mind outta the gutter), large riots and the aroma of OC pepper spray permeating from some tough guy in a holding cell, who’s now crying like a big baby because he’s been thoroughly doused for some bonehead decision he elected to make. Seems like we never grow tired of “war stories” even though we’re all retired now.

Both men are the type that know how to treat a lady and are easy to just “be” with in that comfortable, “old shoe” sort of way. They’re good conversationalists, well read, and good writers. They’re handsome, manly men with their own interests, who wouldn’t deny a woman theirs. And having worked in the same business, they can appreciate my accomplishments as I do theirs, and they aren’t intimidated by any of it.

I could rattle on and on about the merits of both, but my would-be Prince Charming reads this blog sometimes and he might get the idea that I kinda like him.

Nothing could be further from the truth. **rolls eyes**

Nope, I am keeping my options open and am relying on lessons learned about expectations. “Expectations are just future disappointments in the making” said my wise therapist recently.

While I would like to expect that Mr. Grocery Shopper would have called like he said he would, I didn‘t for a minute have any expectations that he would do so…. as he said that before. I also know that past behavior is an indication of future behavior. So when he didn’t call by Wednesday or Thursday to make plans for our dinner date this weekend…I made mine. I was busy, busy, busy and thoroughly productive as well.

It's Sunday afternoon and he still hasn’t called. Not that I thought he meant Sunday as part of the "weekend" anyway.

I’ve decided to take those cosmic connections in the grocery store as another lesson or… two….. that I needed to have reinforced.

I’m shopping elsewhere.

Motherboard Meltdown

The truth shall set you free, but at first it will make you miserable.

~Garfield




Hi. I'm Lisa.

If this were an Al-Anon meeting, this is where you'd collectively say, and say it with enthusiasm, "HI LISA!"

I am melting. Again.

For the past two days, my bruised ego and fragile psyche, which I am currently considering the motherboard of my emotions in my pea-sized, computer-like brain…….is dissolving into a puddle of molten hot tears, after bubbling to the surface with wretched, ugly, breath-taking sobs of pain, sprinkled liberally with the bitter taste of reality.

Reality bites. Hard.




In the book, Gentle Reminders-Daily Affirmations for Co-Dependents, by Mitzi Chandler, she writes…."There are many tears in the heart that never reach the eyes." She says tears are a way of expressing sadness and loss and they are meant to flow from us. When they are trapped in the deep pockets of our hearts, they form a pool and weigh us down. I have finally unlocked the floodgates. I know I won't drown, but damn it, I've been choking on that flood of emotion.

This is supposed to happen.

The very ugly truth is making me miserable. And…..the recent loving reality checks have caused me to sit up and take notice on my behavior and motives. All of this is meant to help me as I struggle with this business of life, working through my grief, to grow and change. Out of this grief, comes my salvation.

This motherboard meltdown has occurred after several weeks of riding the recent exhilarating wave of expanding my consciousness with the processes of recovery in my quest for sanity and serenity via Al-Anon's Twelve Step Program for family and friends of alcoholics/addicts.
Considering the fact that I'd been a long time advocate of self-help books, therapy and totally open to the concept that I was the one creating my own reality, it didn't take me long to whole-heartedly absorb the many messages of Al-Anon, and to excitedly put the principles to work in my pathetic, unmanageable life after almost crawling in to my first meeting about 8 weeks ago.

I had the proverbial "Ah-ha" moment. I was a sponge, soaking up the information and messages that hit my ice-cream padded home base with such force I was thinking I was FREE. LAWD ALMIGHTY, HALLELUJAH!!! I SEE THE LIGHT! I was working the program, using the slogans, most importantly minding my own business and changing, r-e-a-l-l-y changing.

Somehow, I dared to think that I totally "got it!"

WRONG.

My grip on reality was temporarily hijacked. I now recognize that in the past few days I had some scary moments of attempting to force a situation instead of "Letting Go and Letting God!" Al-Anon teaches that there is a natural order to life-a chain of events that God has in mind and my obsessive interference will disrupt those events and my connection with my own spiritual self.

Oh how I wish, that like a computer, I could turn back time and reset my "self" to a few weeks ago, when I was blissfully working my steps, instead of being distracted by my inner child's need for a Prince Charming on his white horse to whisk me away, where I'd live happily ever after. For a few wonderful days it was a safe haven, during my visit with that hard-fought and now weathered Knight in Rusting Armor; complete with a broken sabre. Someone who'd had his own recent spiritual awakening and was learning to live again.

Completely smitten, I probably could have stayed forever. He however, would have probably liked to ask me for a date first. Sometime. Maybe. Now I feel like an idiot. WTH was I thinkin? Clearly, I wasn't thinking at all.




God was showing me expectancy….the expectancy of good and wonder in my life. And….instead of receiving the message as a whole, I was creating expectations of a future, riding high on those incredible gifts presented to me.

But in reality, since I can't turn back the clock to a few weeks ago……I know I wouldn't change a thing. I am thankful and humbled by this learning experience.

Al-Anon has been and is now my anchor, stabilizing the rocky vessel of my soul that had been dangerously close to being sucked in the dark abyss after the straw broke the camel's back on certain strained family relations. The emotionally devastating breakdown of my most precious family relationships was in reality a necessary intervention. A huge gift.

It was a gigantic thump on my thick-head, which caused me to finally see the destructiveness that drugs and alcohol had played in my life since the earliest days of my childhood. And…most importantly…my role and contributions to the problems in our family situations and relationships. It hasn't been pretty but I am human.

I walk in to my Al-Anon meetings grateful that I am getting help with my problems of co-dependency. I know my growth and recovery in the process is going to take a long time. I haven't "got it" yet! It is just the beginning of my latest journey to self-discovery, self-love and managing my life.

Goethe said, "As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live." This recovery process is causing me to unravel, as I learn the how and why of my behavior. I must trust the process, trust myself, continue to heal, and believe that darkness will turn to light. Glorious bright light.

And who knows? That weathered warrior-who could actually be my Prince Charming-just may be there waiting for me someday.