Saturday, January 30, 2010

Why, yes, I am in junior high...

I've been asked to update.

It's been an absolutely amazing week.

I have been kicking ass and taking names. I wrote an article. The night before the deadline. And it's going to be published. Holy shit.

I wrote a letter to someone I owed an apology and an explanation. And it was well-received. She even apologized to me, too!

I was in the middle of planning a fun night with E and Wendy (and a fun afternoon with D!) when I got a phone call... And it was a dear friend whose mother had just died... And suddenly, I was trying to maneuver a trip halfway across the country with a day's notice. The Ex was totally supportive and such, but it meant a lot of plan changes. No fun night with E and Wendy. I'd have to bail on the brilliant plan we'd hatched for me to win Brendan over. Sub plans, etc.

But I would have done it. Because I'm that kind of friend.

But hearing about his mother's passing brought my own mother's passing back to the surface. And I was in a fragile place when Brendan called me.

I'd been planning to be the awesome chick and there I was, completely spaz-tastic.


But he called me later and when I told him about the beautiful way that my friend's mom had died, he told me about how his own mom had been there at her mother's side when she'd died. And he told me how she'd told her it was okay to let go. And that she was there, holding her hand, when she'd taken her last breath.

And tears streamed down my face. I was trying to stifle the sobs because I didn't want him to know I was crying.

And then I said, "I did the same thing for my mom."

I don't think he had known my mom is dead.

::awkward silence::

But it wasn't awkward.

It was amazing.

And we had this great conversation. Brendan likes me. He really likes me. And he gets me. And he appreciates all that is me. In a way that no man I've been close to has been able to.

And then he told me he's dating someone.


They've been seeing each other for a few weeks (which is why he stopped writing to me after the new year).

And I was BUMMED. And, stupidly, I told him that. Shit.

I realized later (thank you, CF!) that I was really crying over the whole dead-mommy thing and not the boy. But still.

I remember how in the past, I've always stepped back when it came to other people's relationships. I gave up a friendship that really mattered to me last summer, remember? I've allowed myself to let go of something because someone else was there first.

But this time it's different.

It's not like they're in a relationship. It's not like he told me he can't see me because he's with her. He told me over and over again how much he wants me in his world. How much he likes me.

And by the time I got to D and E's house, my resolve was back.

All's fair in Love and War, right?

If they're "meant to be", they will be. And if they're not, well then I know I didn't just roll over and let go of something that could really matter.

I didn't hear back from him after an email on Wednesday. And we were still up in the air about whether or not we'd see each other tomorrow.

I planned to email him on Friday so that I would know how much wine I could drink tonight. (It makes sense in my head)

So, there I was at 8:00 in the morning in my classroom yesterday. I had 10 students in my room, hanging out, helping me with a few things. I was frantically trying to put together a bulletin board for the office that I'd been told that morning needed to go up that day.

And then my phone rang.

And I could see from the caller ID that it was Brendan. I couldn't NOT answer it!

He had decided to call me spur-of-the-moment just to tell me that he was thinking about me. He was listening to something in the car on his way to work and it made him think about the gratitude thing I've got going on... So, he decided to call me and tell me that.

It was all I could do not to cry and laugh and jump up and down while I was on the phone with him. One of my students was staring at me and I was totally doing the happy dance.

I attempted to keep my cool while we were still on the phone, but the moment we hung up, I raced up and down the rows of my classroom and laughed and jumped up and down.

And it totally made my entire day. Every one of my students had an awesome day because I was in that great of a mood.

And I got all of my stuff done and then had a great night with my son and our friends and the Ex.

And Brendan did get back to me today about tomorrow. He can't go. Which is fine. I may have a date with someone else I just started talking to... (What? I don't mind being the kettle!!!)

So, I will enjoy a Wine and Secrets night with NOF and V this evening... And I shall sleep in tomorrow... And I'll see Brendan next week. After I go out on a date with someone else.


Saturday, January 23, 2010


The 72-hour relationship.

The day I was to leave town, my gramma referred to Clark as my boyfriend. Um, WTF? He's so not my boyfriend?

That same afternoon, E called him the same thing. E and Wendy and I took off on our road trip that night and it was like Clark was in the car with us. He kept texting me half the drive (could we ever get out of our damned state??) and there I was, topless in the car, so that I could take a picture to send to his phone... Along with the photos of the girls, too.

They called him my boyfriend all weekend. I never did. But I liked that they did.

And then it was over. The day after I got back. I don't quite know what happened, but have since realized that my defenses were down because of a significant number on the calendar that week. Before I went to visit Dr. Tim, I called the Ex and we had a conversation. Of course he's been wondering if we can work things out. And I sensed that. But when he didn't want me there on that particular night, I ended up hooking up with a complete stranger. And a bunch of orgasms later, I was willing to overlook the stupid shit that he pulled that made Clark so completely inappropriate for me.

I gave myself one day to cry. And I wasn't even crying over Clark. No, I was too busy crying as I ripped myself a new one for being so fucking stupid.

But I'm over that now. Ish.

I was vulnerable and he saw that and got what he was looking for. And, I guess I got what I was looking for too... And that experience helped me to keep the 23-year-old out of my bed. And I keep telling him that. But he keeps contacting me. Oy. Poor kid.

But that out-of-state road trip... Totally amazing... Too much fun... I saw dear friends I hadn't seen in far too long... We got kicked out of a restaurant and, shockingly, it wasn't even my fault... I got an amazing tattoo that I've planned for nearly two years... I spent a significant amount of time with Wendy and saw her do something she'd never done before... And all that time, I thought I just might have a boyfriend.

And I liked that.

So, it was a learning experience. And I looked back at my list and I can't quite wrap my mind around the fact that I was so willing to overlook two glaring omissions in Clark... He's not a coffee drinker and he doesn't read. And I knew the first time we spoke that he doesn't read. What was I thinking???

And I need to keep my wits about me... The Ex will be up to his old tricks pretty soon... So, no matter how great everything is right now, it's not going to last. Oh, hell, no. So, I need to stop thinking that stuff, too...

I'm getting pretty good and deleting stuff. Phone numbers, pictures, email addresses... I don't want to be the psycho chick. I won't be. No matter how tempting it is to demand some kind of an answer. I can draw my own conclusions, chalk it up to a learning experience, and stay away.

But then there's Brendan... And after a day of wondering and crying and shit, I have a plan... And I'm excited about it... And I'm not deleting his information... Because that guy could actually be worth it... He pretty much is lots of things on the list... And while there are a few things I have yet to discover about him (we haven't even kissed yet! (Holy clarity, did I just type "yet"???)), I haven't been able to get him out of my head... Even with all of that other stuff I've been doing...

Eight days from now, I will know. And, shockingly, my hopes are back up.

Because I realized something yesterday... And I put it up on the dating website and everything... That I'm not looking for something that is meaningless. I'm looking for something real.

I'm ready to care about someone. Someone special. Someone worthy.

So, even though the flowers I bought for myself last week are still looking beautiful, I'm ready for a new bouquet...

And I'm going to try to be done with the compromising... Although I do know that I told D the truth that day... I never wanted anything Forever with Clark... I wouldn't have minded a few more interludes, but whatever. I'm moving to the grateful place... Grateful that he gave me what he did, got me through those few days (when I might have done something even more stupid??? (And, yes, if you were in my head, you'd realize that there are certainly a few things that would be even more stupid than what I did with him)), and then let me go...

And realizing that he's the 2nd guy in a few weeks to become all uncommunicative and shit... Made me realize that I had some unfinished business to take care of... And I wrote the letter of apology that was long overdue... Like, six years overdue.

But it's never too late to do the right thing... And even if she decides to hate me forever, I'm okay with that. I went against my instincts years ago... Just like I did a couple of weeks ago... But I'm learning my lessons... I'm still evolving... And I want to be around the people who like the person I am... Not the person I pretend to be when I'm drunk and hurting.

So, Universe... I have this to say...

The man I'm looking for??? He can be scared... But he has to decide to take the risk... Even if I'm the one who has to present it. He can either fight for me or be willing to be fought for... And, yes, Universe... He has to be someone I can be Friends with... And it's okay to start there.



Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Rain washes it all way...

I need to blog so badly that I'm using a computer I swore I'd never use for this site.

I cried myself to sleep last night.

Granted, I've had a rough start back to work.

But this thing with Clark is getting to me... There's something about him... That tore down all of my defenses...

So, after these couple of days... When I went home alone last night... And cried myself to sleep...

Realizing that I am so ready... For something more...

My marriage is over. And even though Liz Gilbert wrote yet another book that I read just when I needed to read it, I need to LIVE it.

I actually called the Ex and read him a passage from "Committed". And he totally understood why I read it to him. And he agreed that he'd been trying to tell me that for that period of time two years ago when we stood over the precipice that had become our distance from each other and chose to step away.

Holy clarity. That hurt.

But last night. When I remembered seeing my neighbor's boyfriend show up at her door with flowers a month ago...

I realized that I do want it all.

So, I'm putting it out there to the Universe:

~I want a man to bring me flowers. Not because he has to. But because he wants to. Sunflowers are a safe bet. As are tulips.

~He should be a coffee-drinker. And should understand my need for the stuff.

~He should be a reader.

~He should be active.

~He should be passionate. About something. Something that is, at least, somewhat interesting to me.

~He should be a texter.

~He should be one who calls. And he should be glad to hear from me when I call.

~He should have a calendar and be willing to talk to me about which nights I am available to see him.

~He should at least communicate with me on the days when I won't see him.

~He should be willing to plan for something the following week.

~He should be amazing in bed.

~He should think it's awesome that I'm going to shave my head for charity. Maybe he'll even be willing to do it, too. :)

~He should drink wine. Red wine.

~He should like sushi.

I've been meaning to blog about the online dating thing I've been doing... And I've met some great guys. Each of them has had something wonderful to offer. I've learned a bit more from each of them...

So, now I'm making my list. Oh, and that reminds me... I need to make my List... CF will be number one on it this morning, for sure.

But my point is this:

I can and will add to my requirements. But they are just that: Requirements.

I'm done compromising. But, dammit, I'm ready.

So, this or better, Universe. You hear me???

Sunday, January 10, 2010

I was in bed by 10 that night...

I just didn't specify whose... ;)

Apparently, 2010 is the year for RetroMama doing things she has never done before.

1. Wake up with face in a pot after drinking to the point of falling down.
2. Sex on a first date.

And that was just in the first week.

I met someone.

Still messing around with the online dating site... Was contacted by Clark. Exchanged a couple of emails and went to texting and a phone chat pretty quickly (as in all on the same day. I loved being off work this week!).

We started with stories about the holidays. His Christmas sounded somewhat like like my New Year. I told him I'd been told I needed to see the movie "The Hangover", and he told me he'd just gotten it and did I want to come over in a couple of days to watch it?

I told him that I wasn't a stupid girl and that I wouldn't go over to some stranger's house the first time we met.

He thought that was smart and asked if I would meet him for dinner. And then when I realized he's not 90 years old or 300 pounds, I could decide if I wanted to see the movie with him. So, I agreed. Turns out, he's a sheriff in a nearby town. And some of my former students will likely end up in his jurisdiction. LOL. Oh, and he lives in my town. And he is damn funny.

So, we met for dinner a couple of days later. And he's cute. And funny. And he teases me. And can take it. And I decided that, yes, I would go over to his house to watch the movie. I followed him to his house. And texted TF with the address, his real name, his badge number (because, of course, I'd asked to see his badge over dinner. I'm a dork, but it comes in handy!), etc. And I told him what I'd done as he brought me into his home and introduced me to his adorable (and totally well-behaved!) dog.

We watched the movie and just cuddled and stuff. I'd already decided I would make out with him, but I had no intention of doing anything else. I tend not to shave my legs when going on a first date. Just to be sure.

But then... I don't really know when I made the decision to go ahead and have sex with him anyway. But I did. And holy five orgasms later, I was really glad that I did!!!

Afterward, I told him that I'd never done that before... I jokingly covered my face and said, "Great, now you'll think I'm a whore!"

And his response was perfect:

"I didn't pay you, so you're not a whore... You're just a slut!"

I laughed so freaking hard that it hurt. Clark has the kind of sense of humor that I completely dig. He helped me get dressed and then asked if I was ready to do my "walk of shame", walked me out to my car, kissed me, and sent me on my way.

I went home feeling VERY mixed up. Totally happy that I'd met a great guy and had had amazing sex. But realizing that I actually really liked this guy, and had I screwed up any chance of it being anything more???

And then I saw him again the next night. (D and E are cringing now.)

And, yes. Once again, had amazing sex.

I haven't seen him since, but we've been in contact every day. I keep listening to the voicemail he left yesterday over and over again.

Shit. I really like this guy.

And I've come to some powerful realizations about myself recently. Some of which I shared with a colleague yesterday...

I can and will survive a broken heart.

So I am done hiding my true self from others. If I decide to fall in love, I will do that.

Because 2010 is the year in which I will love and I will be loved. But I will not fear loving hard. Because that is who I am.

Maybe that's what 2010 will be for me. For the first time, I will be true to myself in all that I do. And there will be those who accept that and love that and join me on this journey. There will be those who step away.

But I will enjoy every beautiful thing that comes my way this year.

I will hold onto the words that my sister said to me yesterday... "You seem much calmer..." She hadn't seen me in a year. And it was lovely to see myself through her eyes and realize that, yes, I am calmer. And I am attracting more quality people to me.

I will not lose sight of how out-of-control I was just 10 days ago. And how lucky I am that I wasn't a victim that night. But I am putting "quality" out into the universe and that's what I'm receiving in return. When a non-quality individual crosses my path, I am much quicker to cut them out... But I'm doing so with grace and with dignity...

Maybe too much grace and dignity?

Because I had to break up with the 23-year-old again a couple of days ago... Poor kid. Suddenly, I made the connection that he reminds me a bit of myself... The one who couldn't let go.

But today I spent about an hour going through my closet and making a pile of things that I am going to donate to charity... And then I spent some time going through my phone and deleting a bunch of texts and emails that I had saved to remind me not to go back to a certain place... And I felt strong enough to know that I no longer need those messages. Because I am becoming better at letting go.

This year I hope to learn to be better at holding on. Or becoming someone that a like-minded person would like to hold onto...

Clark said something about "you're just out of a marriage. You don't want a relationship."

But I'm actually two years out of that marriage. We took off our rings 25 months ago. And I'm more than a year past my last "boyfriend".

So, I think I'm getting close to ready. For something more. And maybe it will be Clark. Maybe I didn't screw everything up by having (amazing!!!) sex on the first date. Or maybe I did. But regardless, I'm not going to regret one minute I've spent with him. Because he is very obviously someone I was supposed to meet when I did.

And if I'm hurtling toward heartbreak by imagining myself introducing him to my friends (did I mention I never saw myself doing that with CJ?), and actually maybe waking up with him one morning, then so be it. I'll recover from that if I have to...

But maybe this time I won't have to. Time will tell.

Monday, January 4, 2010

TMI for 2010.

I woke up mid-morning on January 1 with my face in a pot. There was a towel under the pot. And a bottle of water next to it. The Ex was moving around the camper's kitchen, asking me if I wanted some Gatorade. I drank a bit and then set the cup on the floor.

I woke up awhile later (ten minutes? An hour?) and the Ex was boiling something on the stove. Apparently, he was attempting to sterilize the pot I had puked in repeatedly throughout the night.

"I'm so sorry..." I moaned.

I rolled off of the bed he'd made for me out of sleeping bags and stood up, dizzily. A shooting pain ripped through my hip. "Why does my hip hurt?" I asked.

"Because you fell when you staggered back into the camper this morning," he answered.

"I fell?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Twice."

Aww, crap. WTF happened???

Too exhausted and sore to figure it out, I fell back asleep for a couple of hours. When I woke up, I was alone in the camper. I vaguely remembered hearing the Ex and the Kidlet getting ready for a ride on the quads, but I had no clue how long before that had been.

I managed to get myself to the sink before throwing up. Not much came up but pink bile. I wasn't worried because I was pretty certain it was the Gatorade that had been red. Dizzily, I got myself to the bathroom. As I sat on the toilet (which is in the same place as the shower of the toy hauler), I was suddenly dizzy and hot. I stripped off my shirts and leaned my head against the door.

Sweat poured off of me in rivers. I tried to kick off my pants, but they were tangled up with my silk thermals around my ankles.

My stomach was a mess. I couldn't decide if I needed to poop or to puke. Apparently, I needed to poop. But as I closed my eyes and leaned against the door, all I could do was hope that I wouldn't puke until I was done pooping.

And then I woke up. Face-down in the shower. It was when I knocked my face against the shower floor when I woke up. Apparently, yes. RetroMama passed out while on the toilet.

I managed to scramble up off the floor and strip off the rest of my clothes. I crawled back into bed where I probably passed out again.

The Ex came in to check on me and asked me how I was doing. I told him I'd passed out on the toilet and he begged me to let him tell one of our friends. I was beyond caring at that point. He came back awhile later and told me everybody was hanging out on a rock near our campsite and I should get dressed and come out, blaming The ScapeGoat for feeding me so much champagne and then I could go back to sleep. He told me I needed to just show my face. One of the other wives hadn't emerged yet, so I would be okay if I owned it.

The problem was this: I didn't know what I needed to own.

I remembered being handed the enormous vodka tonic at about 11 or so. I remembered going and trying to get the Ex to come out for the midnight festivities and him refusing. I remembered having a (plastic) glass of champagne at midnight and some hugging and kissing. I remembered going back to the camper to say Happy New Year to the Ex, and him refusing (again) to come out. We said Happy New Year and I kissed him. But nothing happened.

I remembered going back to the campfire and ripping one of the teenagers a new one about his cell phone and texting activities. I remembered yelling at one of the other teens to stop interrupting me. Somehow at that point I had an entire bottle of champagne in my hand. And I was drinking from it.

I remembered that at some point, all of the wives came trooping into our camper, trying to get the Ex to come out. We all kissed him and left without him. There was dancing in someone's camper.

I remembered that there was some guy who was camping at the other end of our circle that was there. I was talking to him when I threw up. Draped over one of the little girl's quads. Apparently, I only hit the back wheel.

I finally remembered falling when I tried to get into bed. But that was pretty much it.

I dressed as quickly as I could (which was probably really slowly) and made my out to the rock. I walked up with a smile on my face and the middle finger on my right hand pointing to the sky. I headed straight for the ScapeGoat.

It was out at that rock that I found out that I had been walking around with a second bottle of champagne when I'd gotten sick. And the ScapeGoat thought it was really cute to ask if I wanted a Bloody Mary. Or perhaps some champagne?

I told him to "fuck off" and said that I would probably never drink again. That I didn't feel that bad except for the whole "passing out while taking a crap" thing. Stunned faces all around. The Ex was impressed that I admitted it in front of the whole group.

I hung out for awhile and then headed back inside and fell asleep again.

When I woke up mid-afternoon, I felt hungry. Sore, but hungry. I made myself a couple of sandwiches and went to hang out with some of the wives, refusing the crackers and dips they offered (crab and spinach dips just didn't sound like a good idea)...

Eventually, we would settle in at a new fire that FNBF made closer to our end of the camp. I would refuse every drop of alcohol offered. And things would start to come back to me. I would discreetly ask about the previous night's behavior, and try to piece together the missing 90 minutes.

And when you ask four different people (all of whom were also drunk), you will get four different stories. With four different heroes.

So, I've decided that I am just a very fortunate girl. Lucky to have an Ex that still cares enough to clean me up after a hard night of partying. Lucky that I have friends who look out for me. Lucky that after the night when I was drunker than I've ever been in my entire life (seriously, I've NEVER fallen down drunk before. EVER.), the worst that happened is that I've got a sore hip, a bruised jaw and a bruised forehead.

And it was all my own doing.

Happy New Year.