I became discerning, but my “man-picker” was still in question. Had my “man-picker” become so picky it was like picking a gnarly scab?
For the better part of the past decade, I have dated myself far more than I’ve dated anyone else. After my departure from my marriage, I made an intentional choice to hang out with myself. I did this for several reasons I was aware of at the time, and some I learned along the way: Continue reading “Dating Myself, & the Dog Who Doesn’t Beg”
I am not marching today and am cranky about missing it. I am grateful for each person who invests in the action to halt what I refuse to believe is the “new normal.” ‘Nuff said about that.
As this week progressed, I found myself holistically bankrupt, with scarcely ANY resource left inside of me to offer to anyone, especially myself. Continue reading “The Perfect Crash”
A woman draws her life from man and gives it back again (Woman barfs from this lyric, written by a man) <– same melody, please.
Last night, I dreamed of being proposed to, getting remarried and flourishing in a happy marriage ALL NIGHT LONG.
Wait. What? Surely not me! Continue reading “Proposals & Holy (sh*t) Matrimony”
Let me begin by wishing all readers and non-readers, a meaningful Christmas. While it may look different from person to person, and place to place, my prayer is that each human being, and our collective human community, give and receive healing, love and joy. May it wash over us and repair this world.
Plus, I think Jesus would totally dig it.
IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: The word “Fu*k,” sans asterisk with the “c” inserted in said word, is utilized a great deal in the rest of this post. Read at your discretion. Continue reading “On Not Giving Two Fu*ks, or Even One.”
I am 51 years old today. Just a few short days ago, the Pentagon confirmed that Area 51 conspiracy theorists are not actually nutballs after all. Coincidence? I think not. Continue reading “The Real Truth About Area 51”
Years ago, I believed I was unintelligent. As a child, I worked very hard to hide my perceived stupidity and the shame that accompanied it. I was convinced that anytime I appeared to be intelligent, it was artificial. Naturally, this internal messaging, along with other self-mutilating messaging, was totally false. Continue reading “A Love Letter to Artificial Progress & Real Regression”
When I find myself questioning my decision to open myself up on such an external level, (and I question it with great frequency), someone ALWAYS approaches me about how something I’ve shared helped them in some way. Sometimes, a reader simply feels less alone, and breathes a sigh of relief that the committee that lives in their head, (and has way too many meetings), isn’t much different from mine. Continue reading “Not Being in Love: A Love Story”