First Impression of Online Dating

It requires people to lower their standards, or be so awed by someone that is relatively normal it can make that person seem a little too eager, possibly even crazy.

I have found of the men that have contacted me I am most impressed by those that can form complete sentences and spell well enough.  Grammar errors are common and sometimes I watch to see if they are consistent or if maybe cell phone keypad madness was the problem.  Errors such as there, their, and they're...well, you have to let some things go for the moment.  I can't think of the other cringe-worthy example, it is a way of saying something, that just drives me nuts (something like, I done the housework)...rains heavily on a spark of interest.

I am frustrated by how damn lazy so many of these guys are.  One worded answers, or simply an answer to a question, no question in return.  I'd like to point out, they have contacted Me.  My instincts say they want me to lead, to move the conversation along...

I delete their message thread and move on to a man that has a brain and some balls.

They will message me again with something that leads nowhere, it literally requires me to inquire after them first.  Don't think I am being nasty here, I check to see if it was indeed what I thought, it is.  Simple blah answer, no follow through.  Then later another greeting like the one before.  Good morning! Good morning, how are you? Good.  *later* So what are you up to? I just left work and I am going to my friends to bbq.  How was your day?  What are you up to? Good.
  

What I also find irritating is some want my number, I mean right away.  We haven't exchanged names.  I know really Nothing about them at all as we haven't said anything that makes me think, 'I'd like to give this man my cell number, maybe txt and talk to him.'

With one I said that I would prefer to get to know each other a little better, tell me about yourself.  He said it would be easier than messaging on the dating site.

Well, I wasn't that interested in you anyway.

There are a few I am willing to get to know if they don't do something that just kills it dead in the middle of the road and then sest it fire to make sure it is in fact Dead.

I am trying to be open to personality as opposed to just attraction factor.  I met someone on a 'date' yesterday and the moment he asked me if I'd like to meet just the planning of it instantly became complicated.

Finally we decided to meet at a Mexican restaurant a fair split between the two of us.  He's my height, and I usually prefer tall men.  I liked our exchanges though and I wanted to see what kind of person I was now and how I would respond to meeting someone outside of my usual attraction parameters. I have dated men my height 5'8" and had a great time and really liked them.  My last memory of that though is my ex-husband and I was never attracted to him so it was awful.

He's attractive!  I didn't find myself picking him apart. I looked at his face and body language and listened to him.  We sat down and chatted a bit, gave the order.  Then the chips and salsa hit the table.  And he picked up a chip and moved it toward my face.

Oh yes he did.  I made a clear indication that was not okay with me, I was clearly uncomfortable.  Feeding someone is when you're a couple, at dinner and sharing a meal maybe...or ideally after sex and someone decides ice cream is going to happen and you maybe spoon it to each other.  It is an act of comfort and familiarity.  Not a first meet and greet.

He said it was about trust.  Weird!  I chomped on it an gave him a scathing look he misinterpreted as 'I agree' and told him trust isn't just handed out and that was weird.

And he did it again a few minutes later.  OMG

So I glossed over it and let him talk.  He really liked to talk about himself, he is pretty great guy. Yep.  Then we played I'll ask you a question, you ask me a question.  Nothing like being on the spot when your brain is fried from being force fed chips and salsa.  He slipped in 'grannie panties or thong?'  I said neither.  I'd like to indicate now that the picture of him forming in my head was not a good one.

After the date he took a while in the bathroom and I waited for him outside of the restaurant grateful I could message my friend I'd be on my way to her house for the Sunday bbq that seems to be a thing every Sunday now.

He came out after what seemed a long time.  I think he'd been giving himself a pep-talk in the mirror, and wanted to hold my hand.  I didn't love it.  Then at my car he moved in front of me, put his arms around me and moved in for a kiss.

'Holy Shit!' my mind screamed as my hands came up and I pulled back.  He didn't want the date to end.  I wanted to get in my car and leave, NOW.

Thank you God for Sunday bbq.  He kept letting me know he'd be available for me to message him, when he'd be available, calling over his shoulder for me to message him when I was done.

He messaged me at 9:15 I was almost home.  How was the bbq.

I messaged back it was great.  Tons of food, friends, laughter.

good

Then he called me.  He was just so freaking weird.  Mumbling.  Was I okay, He was looking forward to seeing me again.  Oh, his idea for a second date was a movie and then making dinner at his place or mine.  I let him know that under no circumstance was having a stranger to my home, period.

I felt like I was on a forth date (the first meeting) and planning the fifth with implied sex for dessert!

Of course I let him know today I felt another date was nothing we should pursue.


Another guy...messaged me, I checked his profile and knew instantly I couldn't even come close to pretending I'd want to meet him or talk to him.  Within seconds of his first message he sent a second saying, that was a fast rejection.

Okayyyyyyyy.

I am finding this to be not my thing... They few I am interested in don't seem interested in pursuing me in any real way.  That's cool in the sense that if they are not I am not offended, but the hot and cold thing, or worse the lukewarm thing...

I am ready to message my friend in Iowa (an actual Man) and ask him wth is wrong with his species.

I don't think I will last a week on this site. It has only been a few days.

Did I forget to mention the 28 year old graveyard-shift-medical-cute-Asian-Boy that is MILFing on me?  He is ten years older than my son.  Seriously?  He's just sweet and chatty and thinks I am gorgeous.  Gee thanks Eddie Haskell, I don't think so.

I know I sound like a bitch, but, damn, just DAMN.  I am not kidding.  These are big and glaring and frantically waving red flag men.

I am being kind and not including the one word 'compliments'.  Sexy.  Daaaaaamnnnnn. Sweetie! Nice!

I had one guy send me several messages doing my talking for me, I never responded.  That was interesting.

Another guy said my profile was Wordy.  I looked at his.  I kid you now, twice as long as mind and he hates Everything, especially women and he is Gross.  Jaba the Hutt Gross!

I don't want to be some guys Mom, I am a MOM to my sons Only.  I don't want to lead the 'courtship', he should.  Lazy men make lazy partners/lovers/everything. 

I am in a vacuum.

Phonetic

Last night I made a light shrimp and pasta dinner with a delicate Chardonnay.  I actually drank a glass with my dinner.  It's not that I don't like wine.  I just don't love wine.  Perhaps I am flawed.  It seems everyone in my age group and a little older here in California just Love their wine and Harley's.  I like motorcycles.  I am not a, 'Ohhhh, he has a Harley, I must land that Man!'  I say this because, well, I hear something along those lines a lot.

So, I drank some wine last night.  Wine has a way of relaxing me instantly.  In fact, I get a little too relaxed.  It is nearly a date-rape kind of relaxed.  I am usually very tired after I drink wine. 

I drank some wine last night and I wasn't Torchwood, but it was on and doing that 'next episode in 20 seconds' thing that I love, and I was online.

I, with wine-induced-impulsiveness, put myself on a dating site. 

First impression... not as horrible as I expected, yet.  And...some guys are just painfully Dumb.

One guy is the (essentially) one word messager. 
Hello. 
~Hello. 
Good?
My name is Eu.
(after a rather long delay I reply)
~Is that Phonetic?
(he waited a while)
What does that mean?

Yes, he, did.

I explained it to him. 

Yes (he replied) It means strength.
(I looked it up and found no reference to strength but it is a symbol on the periodic table)
~What language is your name in?  I looked it up.  I found it means Well, Good in the Greek.  It is also the symbol for the chemical element europium. So is your name pronounced Ew?

Am I a Bitch for finding this entertaining?  I am.  I am sort of being a Bitch.

I have had inboxes that say:
Daaaaaamn!
Gorgeous :)
Hi
Hello

Really?  Is this why I haven't been approached in Real Life?

I think three men were able to form a coherent sentence. 

One guy had the nerve to tell me I wrote a lot of Words.  I check his profile.  I'd almost like to copy and post it here.  I'm wordy?!!?  He went on an on revealing what sarcastic woman hater he was. 

It's fascinating.

For now I like that I can just delete or block anyone that is ridiculously proving themselves to be a penis head.  Or simply ignore them. 

Is no one capable of having a conversation anymore?  I think that might actually be a serious turn on for me.

And the profiles men put up!  The pictures of themselves they choose.

They need help...

A lot of professional help.

A Taste

Walking through the veil
I see a long stretch of sand
I see a long stretch of sky
I see a long stretch of ocean
Fading past my ablity
To see past the veil

Movements in the mist
Just shapes in the bowl
Every step forward
Seems as though I stand
Without moving

All around me, water in the air
All around me
All around me is the sound
of the future surging
All around me

My mouth is filled
With the soft flavor
of wine
A taste of you
Rolls over my tongue

I would keep my lips closed over it
I would keep my mouth still
Until I can open it to you
A taste, a feast of the palate

My Boo Is A Fool

I don't look like my foolish, skittish cat...I suddenly realized our personalities might be reflective of each other just a moment ago.

My Boo (no, I did not choose this name but it stuck in that sucky way sucky things will) is a special case.  He's a feral rescue from my ex-mother-in-laws back yard.  He was the only one that didn't run away.  Standard black, yellow-eyed cat.  She named him Boo.  I tend to call him Isaboo (which is a blending of 'He's A Boo Kitty').  He's the most expensive pet I have ever been graced with.  I allowed myself to be manipulated into capturing him because my oldest son loves animals.  I was hoping Boo would choose him to be his person.

This did not happen.  I became his person.  Yay.  He's a head-case.  He's terrified of plastic bags making noise.  He doesn't like toys with catnip.  He plays with fishing line tied into a whisker shape.  And sometimes a little mouse toy.  His favorite place for the mouse is the toilet or his water dish.  Ohhhhh to be inside his mind...

So how am I comparing myself to the Foolish Boo?  Honestly, now I don't know.  I'd felt upon starting this it would be a good lead in to my own foolishness at this time in my my life.  Thought, hopefully not deed.

But why not?  Why in thought but not deed?

My sons have been gone for two weeks now?  I checked the calender.  I honestly can't remember when they left with their father exactly.  Just before the first of July.  They'll be returned to me the first of August. 

The first week I cleaned.  I've been over to a friends twice for bbq, to Monterey/Pacific Grove for my first over-night with a girl friend.  I've enjoyed this time, thus far, simply not having to manage anyone but myself.

My home has stayed clean, I go to work, I come home and it is quiet, I watch what I want to watch, I'm not listening to or watching Japanese Anime cartoons.  I don't have the pressure of feeding two teen aged boys.  I can come and go as I please with out concern for my sons.

Last night was the first night in my month of freedom where I felt like a pathetic loser.  It was bound to happen.  The home is clean, I have had a few pleasant distractions mentioned above.  I am not wandering from room to room with no purpose because I am finally relaxed enough knowing I don't have to manage anyone but myself.  Yesterday I finished with work early.  Avoiding a late afternoon quick appointment, instead booking her for this afternoon (she'll be my only client today).  My rationalization for this was at least I would shower and get out today.  Otherwise I can picture myself watching a series or two on Netflix and Hulu and not getting off of my couch.

There is nothing wrong with being unwashed and doing nothing, but yesterday I felt a little like a social reject and figured I should set myself up to be forced to get out and do something, rather than allow that feeling to sink in and become a defining characteristic.

So yesterday.  I was cute!  My hair was done.  My eyeliner looked good.  Yes, this is an accomplishment when one applies a cat-eye.  There can be nothing more frustrating in make-up application than a cat-eye.  I smelled nice.  I was wearing a feminine and flowing sort of dress that complimented my build and coloring.

Yep, all for nothing.  I am finding myself more than a little concerned that I don't seem to get noticed.  That I haven't been so much as approached in any way.  I have mentioned this before, this sense that something is blocking me from any opportunity to even give out my number. 

I think this is residual angst from Monday.  Monday I was grumpy and frustrated.  My client CarolAnne, the terrible/nasty/heat crazed aggressive drivers, every freak'n red light... and my not practicing holding at least four second eye contact with an attractive fire-fighter.  Still feeling that even now...

So yesterday afternoon I am off work and I come home and hit the couch and watch TV.  And that is it.  Sitting there watching TV, cat nap one, maybe cat nap two.  Life moving and surging outside my home.  People interacting and living their lives, and I sit.

The other night I could have gone out.  I had plans to meet my friend and maybe listen to some bands or a blues band in another venue...she flaked out.  So I flaked out.  In another time in my past I would have just gone anyway.  Where is that person?

I'll go to lunch by myself, I'll go shopping or just wandering by myself.  Why couldn't I leave my home and go to a local venue and listen to music by myself?  This nagging thought won't leave me.

I think I am terrified someone might talk to me, or someone (anyone) might not.  Or perhaps I'll get tangled up in the little dramas of the culture of the past that still exist in the neighborhood I planned to go to.  I Need a buffer I suppose.

So yesterday afternoon I landed on my couch and didn't leave my home and I felt so damn lonely.  I am past the whole hormonal thing so that isn't an excuse.  I felt lonely, bored, tired of my own company.

In those moments in a single persons life, My single persons life, I feel impulsive and craving and daring.  I'll feel at times I want to be alone, left alone.  Other times I will miss deeply any kind of intimacy that becomes familiar.  And last night, I just felt like a pathetic outcast not worthy of anyone the company of.  Yes, I even cried. 

I've been seriously considering dating.  I often think, lately, I am ready to start.  How does a person start dating in this world?  I get so many thoughts on this subject.  Online.  Oh, hell no! Not online! Going out.  Do Not Meet Someone in a Bar.  Take up a sport.  *insert laughter*  In order for me to take up a 'sport' or similarly defined interest I do sort of need a person that will trigger that.  Meaning, I need my ass kicked or influenced in that regard.  Let's go!  Okay!  Why can't I be that person in my own mind?

I have gotten used to being at home.  Being a Mom, (having been) a girlfriend, relaxed familiar routine.  Yes, I get out a little.  Yes when I am out I will do things.  In fact when I am out I often wish I was with someone that wants to go.  Go and keep going.  I feel that.  Once I am out I want to keep moving, keep exploring, take chances.  It is there in me, I realize it has to come from me.  How do I find her?

How and when will I find her?

I'm tired of being 'Mom'.  Not of being a Mom, or being my sons Mom.  I love it.  I'm tired of being so narrow in my life.  Of perhaps being narrow in my own mind. 

Is that what being an adult is?  A narrowing of self-definition?  Is this why mid-life crisis happens?  Am I on the verge of that?

I always wanted to be more alive than that, than finding myself on that mundane path.  I always wanted to be more like Maude in Harold and Maude. 

Sometimes I find this line of thinking little entertaining, a little philosophical.   Sometimes I feel trapped in its definitions.  Sometimes I feel desperate to break away, or to accept, or to give myself a break and be kind to myself.  To remind myself of who and what I am and where I am despite it all.

Last night my friend messaged me.  The double vibrate alert made me feel less like a pathetic loser.  My friend sent me a meme that enabled me to feel less the pathetic loser and more the hopeful optimist I steer myself toward.  It was a Chinese Parable about a red thread connecting one person to the other that is fated to be their other half, or something like that.  She asked me how I was doing, mentioned she'd monopolized our friendship with her troubles... and I let her know I'd been feeling weepy, sorry for myself.  She said I have been very strong.  I am not sure what that means.  

I understand in this month on my own I will have those highs and lows.  Last night just had me wondering if this is it?  My only answer to that was not wanting it to be and the knowledge that life is a mean bitch that delights in keeping us off balance even when we are frustrated with the status quo. 

Bitch-life has been cruel to another friend of mine.  It seemed she finally gave her the good stuff.  Her life was becoming beautiful.  Until two months ago.

Right when I feel ready to move forward I am reminded that to do so can be awful and heartbreaking.

I question, am I ready to field those plays?  I'm not so sure I am in shape. 

If I go on a dating site I think the creeps will just creep me out and leave me jaded.  Or, maybe it would be fun to practice rejecting creepy guys.  Then I think, it's not the creepy guys that are the problem, it's the manipulators.  The ones that perform their act beautifully while compartmentalizing their dark and disturbing true selves. 

One friend in love with a man that can only sabotage and control and demean.  The man just can't be even a little mutual.  There are so many echos of what my life was like with John it has actually helped me process the last decade of my life, and his death, and my life moving forward little by little.
Another friend suffering the loss of what she, and everyone else believed, was her beautiful life.  Her husband so compartmentalized and so devious and broken he's destroying everything she'd built for herself.  Now she has to rebuild her life, herself again.

So yes, my mind questions.  Is it worth it?  Maybe I am not ready!  Besides...say I do meet someone? If I am not a loser magnet anymore (hey, I dare to dream) I have no idea how I will respond in my psyche in a relationship.  Did John hurt me for a time?  Or did he damage me and leave scars that will impede my ability to trust and have intimacy again?  Because of him, my toxic family... am I just damaged now?  I'm not happy with that thought.  I mean, seriously, that line of thinking really sucks.  I can't accept that I might be broken.  I won't.  I believed I have changed and I have to believe it is for the better.

I have two other examples I look at.  Two men that have moved on from broken partnerships and failures and found happiness.   

Then I feel that darkness start to form in my mind, the thought that maybe I have lost that time in my life to find it.  Then that voice that says,

'Is this really all you think about?  How sad.  How silly you are.  Can't you find something else to consider?  How about fixing your life?  How about that you stupid silly girl?'

So, I guess sitting around and thinking isn't really working for me.  Yet, sometimes this can not be avoided.

I could use a pleasant distraction.

I need to get my head out of the darker clouds and get over myself. 

A Little Bit of Everything

I had my first girl friend overnight trip to the coast last Friday night.  We had a great dinner at the Monterey Fish House.  Horrible drinks at the Mucky Duck in down town Monterey.  The crowd was very ecclectic and there was a beautiful man at the bar I am grateful my back was to him.  We stayed over night in Asilomar.  There are amazing accommodations there at great prices considering you can take a short walk to the beach.  It's not crowded and te he sand is clean and white and smooth.  This is not overly common for Central California beaches.  A side note: Northern California beaches have black sand.  Growing up in Southern California I was used to soft white sand beaches that would get so hot in summer the sand would make a zipper sound when you'd walk on it and it could get hot enough to blister the bottom of your feet.

On Saturday we checked out some great thrift shops in Pacific Grove, then spent a few hours in Capitola, about a 45+ minute drive away from Pacific Grove. 

Friday I let John's ashes go.  My friend was there so I I didn't say what I would have liked to say.  I was stilted and awkward.  I'd been thinking them in a very clear way for days though, and I said what was most important.

You see, John always...every time we went to Monterey, he'd say he wanted to jump into the dark black water of the bay our favorite hotel was built over.  There and the pier of Fisherman's Warf.  I didn't feel the intimacy of the moment would translate at the Warf.  Our hotel was where he'd seem so clear in his intent he'd nearly climb  the railing of the balcony.  I opened the small container and let him drift down onto the the seaweed floating and the water gently surging below.  While the water birds watched, a few flying low over the water, their wings slapping the water.  I said, "You always wanted to jump off here...now you have."

I haven't had a very clear reaction to this moment.  I'm honestly not sure I will.  This moment has been a long time in my thoughts.  This moment was waited for, and couldn't be waited for any longer.  There is closure.  Closure in the sense that I've let go of a physical part of him I was holding onto.  I think my regret is that the moment wasn't as private or moving as perhaps it could have been.  But then, neither was our relationship.  I think maybe he's glad, if he has any knowledge of that moment of my letting go of my possession of him.  I think it might have bothered him.  Yet, he could be sentimental so I can't really know.

Shopping in Pacific Grove I bought a really lovely white skirt, very feminine.  I bought a framed print.  I very much wanted two others but didn't want to spend $50.  A man walked by a patio where my friend and I were taking a break over a beer and some chips and salsa, bag in arm, my lovely prints back to back over the top of the bag...they were not meant to be mine.

I'd lost my bank card Friday.  The last I remember using it was earlier in the day filling up my gas tank.  It's a good thing my friend was okay to cover the little things.  I wrote her a check.  Friday night I'd called in my card to close it down and order a new one.  Target Red Debit card and the bank are my only access points to funds and necessities.  No fraud.  I am grateful.


My life is quiet.  Peaceful.  My sons are away for the first time ever until August 1st.  It will be a month they've been away.  Before this the longest they've been gone from me was the week in December.  I've spent most of my time at home.  I have really enjoyed just having the space.  I cleaned the first week.  It's stayed clean.  It's nice!  I do miss them so much, but I am trying to appreciate this alone time.

My friends boyfriend asked me, "Your sons are gone for a month and you aren't living it up and partying?"

Should I be?  I suppose I could go out, live it up, hook up...that's just not what I want.  I miss intimacy, and companionship, but not enough to go fishing for it.  Sometimes I think I am ready to start dating, but where does one start?  I could start online...but...I'm not sure I am prepared or equipped to tolerate the creepy guy factor.  I'm concerned those guys would overwhelm my experience and sour it.  I'm not into going to bars and when I do I tend to focus on my friends and not any guy that might be there.

That doesn't matter anyway as I am not approached anyway so it is getting easier to feel relaxed internally in those environments.  I still feel like something makes me invisible to men's interest.

I am cute by the way.  I have a male friend he said I am stunningly beautiful.  He lives in Iowa, so his opinion might be skewed.   I've been working on the eye contact thing.  Smiling.  I'm not very good at it.  I'm not the 'look at the floor' type, but I do tend to let my eyes drift past a person.

I wish I'd smiled a bit more obviously at a fireman shopping at the grocery store yesterday.  I was with my friend/client CarolAnne.  I didn't have it in me today, which really sucks because I find myself wishing I hadn't been so deep down irritable at the time.  My emotions were like static.  Every irritating person in the city was driving today.  I am not being a judgy bitch.  These people were randomly braking, swerving, slow, or cutting me off.  Looking at their cell phones.  In the grocery store CarolAnne was rather frustrating to shop with today, probably because I was already tense and had my own errands to tend to today.

I am not hormonal.  I think I'm just tense.  Probably from lack of sex!  I miss that mellow, easy feeling deep down.  That light and generally positive feeling I have when I get to have sex, at all!

Oh well.  It's not worth some random, indiscriminate encounter to gain a little post sex smile on my face.

I'm concerned, to be honest.  Concerned over what little ghosts will appear if I do find myself spending time with a man I begin to like.  How much damage did John do?  How deep are the scars? 

This is the first time in my life I am taking time for myself.  I'm sure that my uncertainty is telling.  I'm just not ready.

But I do wish I'd held that fireman's attention longer, smiled slowly at him.  Instead I turned my focus back to CarolAnne.

The other night I was in the place, between sleep and dreaming.  It felt as though someone was laying on top of me, kissing my neck.  I could feel the weight and detail of his body.  I swear I was responding as though it was real.  It felt so, so real.  It lasted a few minutes, then I suppose I fell asleep.  I think I was trying too hard to capture that moment, to feel it more, to extend it out and make it last...

I'm afraid to date.  Not just because I worry about my little ghosts appearing but because two of my friends are having a horrible time with the men in their lives.  One has so many echos of John it actually helps me to process my relationship with him.  The other...well, I have to say.  I am finding myself disillusioned.  She was one of three people I felt the Universe was finally giving back to.  The only female of the three.  Her marriage is over and in a terrible way.  A way that will cause her to not trust herself.  She had every right to believe her life was beautiful.  It was, until she found out two months ago her husband has been, and was long before her, a man with some deep issues.  Everyone loved him.  She'd been guarded, her children also took a long time to let him in.  I think he believed he could manage his life on many different levels and continue as such.  It's a terrible, terrible thing that has happened to her.  After all she's been through...

Her situation raises my fears to the surface.  My feeling of readiness to open myself up again to anything again is now put aside again.  It seems too much a risk to take.

 

In The Helen Hunt of the Day

I think about this frequently.  I have thought of these things since I was young.  I watched those that moved about me like waves, wind.  Floating there like flowers, or refuse.  I didn't always understand, the thoughts weren't always formed up.  There just seemed a rightness or a wrongness to the things I saw.

I observed my mother, my grandmother...when they were there.  I observed family, friends, neighbors, teachers, strangers.

I used to think it was just culture.  Growing up in California near the coast.  I didn't appreciate its effect in myself, as would be expected at the time.  I try to appreciate it now, even when I feel it is shown in the harsh light of time.

I feel now it is a world truth, a human truth, not just a local cultural one. 

We love the Dawn, we appreciate the Sunset... some even honor it.  It is the Helen Hunt of late afternoon, the time when the drag of the day is most keenly felt. 

Aging.

When I was a girl, a teen, even near my early twenties I didn't appreciate my youth.  Many of us don't.  I didn't embrace the time, the vigor, the potential.

Perhaps I am not now, just thinking, thinking, thinking.  I am aware of the nagging fear that I will look back twenty years from now, if I am graced with them, and regret all I didn't embrace now.

It's the day to day where we waste time.  We do what we have to do, and then we rest from it.  Some better than others.  I suppose I feel a little guilty at the moment for not making more active use of my time.

For example: I have today off.  I am trying to spend it with my sons as they are going to be gone, for the first time Ever from me, for a month.  They have never been gone more than a few days at the most.  What are we doing today?  Nothing.  We are sitting around watching movies, making popcorn on the stove, 'resting'.

It's not even 2pm.

The other day we drove to the Coast and enjoyed the beach, the views, the food, the cool air, the change of scene.  Today we are unwashed, lazy, munchers.  I suppose each has its place in life.


When I think this way, mainly what I think about is how we worship youth dressed up like real life as it is wanted to be.  Unattainable, but for a few.  I find it deeply disturbing how many women I know desire a Coach purse, for example. 
Sometimes we find beauty, if we even look, in the aged.  In those old enough to have passed even twilight and look into darkness of the unknown and somehow see what we can not.  If we listen and we strain and are very blessed somehow to act, we learn from them.  We gain from their experience and wisdom and how large they really are in the physical husks of what they once were.  Greater than, even through their bodies would protest in opposition.

I think it is the Helen Hunt of the day we scorn most and turn away from.  It is the truth in the middle of the path we try to back away from, the bridge we try to cheat our approach to, our way across when we are on it.

Women and men fighting the shift to age as a disease.  Science fiction characterizes it in horrific ways... Ever see Brazil?  Surrogates?

I could do a better job building on that but I don't want to. 

Helen Hunt.  I mean no disrespect.  In fact, I respect her a great deal.  Even in her early years as an actress I felt she looked mature, much older than she was  Did she ever have youth?  Wasn't she in some awful and yet highly popular sitcom?  I think I hated the guy in it.  The one that got eaten in one of the Alien movies?  I think I cheered.  I digress...
Regarding Helen Hunt, I am not the first person to comment, but what I appreciate is her refusal to fight aging.  Perhaps she eats right, exercises...but she doesn't use fillers, implants, botox (that I have noticed anyway).  She is aging, right before our eyes.  Horrifyingly honest middle age to those that can't face the reality of it.

Some people can't look.  Why?  What is wrong with the process of crossing the bridge.  Time takes us forward.

We see that when time is cheated it has a nasty response when it catches up. 

I think some people do a great job of using enhancements of science to fight aging.  However, there comes a time when one must let go if they still want to look human instead of human-like.

There are many frightening examples of too much.  There are those that perceive Helen Hunt's not enough (or not at all) as being against the norm of her peer group. 

Harry Dean Stanton hasn't bothered nipping-tucking-filling.  In fact the road map of aging and the layered life he's lived etched into his looks, his attitude, his career has been dependent on it.

Not all choose, if the choice is available to them, to walk the way of Helen Hunt.  I don't just mean the famous or the wealthy.  I am referring to everyday people. 

This frustrates and saddens me, particularly now that I am in the Helen Hunt of my day.  It comes suddenly, shockingly.  Even those that Work Hard at maintaining a healthy lifestyle see it.  One day youth is clinging to you, the next... ... sudden and shocking change is apparent.  You don't bounce back anymore like you used to.  The drag hangs on you for a few days.  Your joints creek and pop and grind.  Your skin is different, your muscle tone, well, what muscle tone?  Things begin to droop.  Your face, your skin.  The things your skin used to seem to hold in.  Your eyes dull.  What the fuck is that about?  I might forget why I walked into the room, but my mind seems to be sharper in other ways, why have my eyes seemed to dull in color and clarity?  Lines form on the face, often making you look tired, haggard, disappointed.  Someone can be having a wonderful day and someone else will inevitably ask them if they are tired or not feeling well.  That is shocking slap down off your happy horse. 

If this time was embraced, looked forward to... can you imagine? 

I remember when I wanted to be older, cooler.

I look back now and realize I am in my early forties and haven't accomplished much.  I made that choice, to throw away youth and marry and have my sons.  To spend vital years fighting for something that ended with me empty handed and ... older.  Aged by it. 
*Not my sons, please don't misunderstand that jumble.  My sons are good guys, good young men I am hoping become happy men when they are on their own.

So not only am I aging, but I chose to age myself early on.

What will I choose now?

I have a lot of conflict in my mind.  I have a lot of things influencing those conflicting thoughts.  I could get my breasts done, but what of the rest?  I could get my face done too, but what would I lose and what would I gain? 

I watch people still, younger than I am, the same age as I am, older than I am.  I'm trying to take what I have learned and make use of the time I have now.

It's sort of a crap shoot really.  I could live for now, like I did when I was younger.  Live now, wishing for all the wonder of hope to fall into my lap.  I could end up working away my time for something that will have no meaning later.  Whether it be for pleasure or for some future protection...

How does one balance work and play?

In the end does any of it matter?

I envy those I watch that seem to have a direction, a purpose.  The ones I envy most are the ones that seem to have a balance.

I think that is almost impossible to achieve.  I think a person has to give up all thought of cultural norm in order to have peace and balance.

I think a person has to live in the Now.  Each persons now is different from another.

I'm not good at that.  I want to stop those thoughts that snake their way in and bite with poison...

*if only I could go back to my college years and accomplish something more for myself
*if only I could go back and be a better mom at this and that point in my sons life
*if only I had chosen better, this or that thing or person or plan

It's a lie.  It's a lie as much as looking forward and having expectation.

But it's natural I suppose.

So when I can I practice being in the moment I am in.  Not projecting expectation, not weighing myself in it, not comparing.  It's work to do that.  Constantly reigning in thoughts and feelings.

I wish I could know Helen Hunt.  I think it would be very interesting to listen to her thoughts on just about any subject.  Harry Dean Stanton is interesting that way.  Bold, unapologetic.  I have always liked people like that.  People who just are.  Sometimes I wonder if they question life and societal norms, or themselves like I do?  Their response seems clear.  Stay true to your time, stay true to who and what you are.

Little Things

Today I helped my 76 year old girlfriend move into a new place.  CarolAnne hired movers, her friend/roommate Helen and her son, John, came to help too.  I went an hour early so she wouldn't get nervous and stressed out.

She moved to a lovely little trailer park in the foothills just outside of town. 

The movers were great.  A talkative black man named Marlow.  He's 50 and I'm pretty sure has done some prison time.  Very gentle and efficient man.  I liked him.  The other was Chris.  We're about the same age and he was the professional, planner, paperwork guy.  Also very gentle and efficient.  Both took small moments in their work to respect my friend when she spoke to them in her old lady way.  Marlow has a son in his 30's that lives in Florida, he doesn't see him as much as he'd like.  Chris has twin girls that are 10 years old and one is a Diva like her Mom and he seems mildly terrified of the future he's facing with them.

CarolAnne and Helen hit the Casino near-by for lunch after John and I left.  I am so happy for her.  She was fairly isolated where she was living.  At this new place she'll have a friend that is lively and fun and adventurous, a television to watch, German baking and cooking to do, and a pretty place to live with good neighbors.

Today was a good day.

I'm going to try to go back on Saturday to help them with some little things if they need me.

Oh, Helen mentioned several times she was going to marry her younger son off to me.  Gawd no.  His brother let me know he's successful but a flake.  Thank you John!

No thank you Mother Helen!  I'll just be your 'adopted daughter'. 

I have my little list of what kind of man I'd like in my life.  It's simple and worth waiting for.  I'm content to get to know myself right now.