Let it be said that I am not afraid of the cliche
if there is anything we forbid ourselves out of fear
then we have already succumbed to that dreaded culture
which every artist aspires to overcome
and not only to overcome, but to analyze, to categorize
flagging the items needing change
inventing new ways to view old problems
and ushering individuals into an awareness of their role
in a societal machine that would dull their senses,
of course, only for their own good.

That is not to say that I don’t forbid myself some things,
at first out of child-like obedience and reluctance to displease-
for the higher societal powers over us are mighty-
but later after much testing and thought
while allowing myself to become as separated from ‘normal’ society
as I could physically and reasonably dare to be,
I have banned certain things upon moral principles
which I do not impose upon you as many do
because morals must be found when one is ready to understand
or else human nature will rebel and overthrow what is, in our minds,
a needless and cruel restriction.

Poetry is a necessity for my soul
whether sleeping or awake the words pour forth
and all may see them or none at all.
You may love them, you may hate them,
you may see how they could improve.
You are entitled to your opinions,
to your scathing logic and conformity,
to your lack of time to fully absorb,
to your unwillingness to comprehend.
I have heard all of your negativity before,
and far more, your silences
which lie like cold corpses on the gurneys of my mind.
If there be a single one to mirror my words,
a spark of soul who, being an artist, lives the world
as one living through eyes unseen
come, dear friend, and lend me your hand.
Surely we are two lonely souls spinning in a media-numbed sea.
Yet I know it is not just you,
and I know it is not just me.
There are more of us out there, somewhere
hiding from mediocrity.

Will I play?

Is she playing?

Do I want to play this game?

Is she actually playing or is she only herself?

Will I play?

… and if I play – what if she doesn’t play?

What if she plays – and I don’t?

Is it worth it?

Don’t know.
Perhaps.

Don’t know.

And know what?
Neither do you, my (imaginary) reader.

“The day we stop looking, is the day we die.”
Al Pacino as Frank Slade in “Scent of A Woman”

The husband and I got into a heated debate last night over Allen Iverson’s retirement. I argued that ’ego’ had to have been a factor in the gifted basketball player’s decision to leave the game. This accusation came across as cruel blasphemy to the diehard fan beside me on the couch.

“He doesn’t have an ego!” my husband spluttered. “He’s just proud and uncompromising.”

Point. Set. Match.

Official SavingCymbria Iverson Tribute ~We'll miss you!~

Friends with benefits can soon turn into friends with consequences…

The Infamous FWB

This is college, so of course friends with benefits runs rampant on campus. I don’t think having friends with benefits is morally right but I don’t condemn those that take part in the sport. So my definition of Friends w/ Benefits (FWB): People who have agreed to take part in sexual acts or personal favors without having emotional attachments or commitments. The messy part about the whole situation is when other folks start finding out about the situation or someone voids the contract and starts catching feelings. So here goes the tips:

Tips:

- No cuddling.
- Don’t tell your regular friends about your FWB. Then everyone will know about your juicy lifestyle.
- Don’t talk about deep topics such as love, relationships, ex’s, etc. You run the risk of trying to parallel it to your current FWB.
- If the FWB has a significant other, don’t get caught up. Better yet, don’t do it at all. (Respect the relationship at least)
- Understand that the other person doesn’t have to do anything for you…it’s not a real ‘relationship’
- If you find yourself getting jealous, then just stop messing around with them. And don’t tell them your feelings about your jealousy unless ya’ll trying to be more than FWB.

I’m sure there are more rules, but when it comes down to it, be careful who you choose to be your FWB for physical and social reasons. It’s like the six degrees of separation, you don’t know who knows who these days. Watch your feelings and guard your emotions.

@sorandom3

Question: (Possibly the next topic)
_bGc_@sorandom3 Im hoping you’ll do one about the idea of dudes waiting for a relationship until “they’re ready”…what does ready mean?

Football on television.

Cold, sharp breeze against the window.

Cigarette smoke on the air, twisting against the smells of other peoples’ fireplaces and turkey friers.

This is Thanksgiving this year, for me, alone in a hotel room in a town in which I was young.

It was warm in my small Southern beach town when I left Tuesday. It was cold here when I landed. The sudden shift in temperature seems to have dislodged my thought processes somewhat.

My friends and family were more than a little horrified to hear of our holiday plans. The girl staying home, tending to the animals. Me 1400 miles away, 90 miles from Sharkman and his father, just waiting for my son to return so we can fly back to our new home.

Just me, on my own in this quiet anonymous place, with groceries in the minifridge and football on tv and my feet up on the bed with my shoes still on.

Being in this place, the first place I was ever “away from home” as a not-quite-adult, has been an odd 24 hour stretch. I can see long expanses of yellow grass out the window. That feels familiar. Nothing else about it does. It’s grown in the last 12 years (don’t even ask what a shock it was to count up the lapse in time). I’m enjoying the solitude, and struggling with not feeling guilty about relishing the absence of anyone to do for.

I think maybe I should feel guilty – this could be the last Thanksgiving we have… and I don’t know where to put that, so I just leave it alone. I don’t think about things like that much, but the snap in the air has me in an in-between festive space. It feels more like Thanksgiving here than it did at home. I’m conflicted.

But I’m at peace too, because in the midst of the chaos that is our life I need this moment. Yes, it happens to fall on a holiday, but we have our family and we know where that falls in our priorities.

So when I get home, after another crazy work week and through the following exhaustion, I think I’ll make a just-for-the-hell-of-it weekend feast. I’ll cook all day Saturday, and have too many leftovers on Sunday, and break in the new kitchen properly, finally. I’ll complain that it didn’t turn out right over the compliments of my food-testers. I’ll smile, and gripe that my feet and back hurt from pacing between sink and stove all day. I’ll dirty every dish and pan and appliance.

And we’ll eat together, and laugh, and be thankful just because it’s a crazy weekend idea, not because it’s a formula holiday when that’s what we’re supposed to do.

Early on in my career, I found myself sitting at an elderly woman’s house whom I’ll call Betty. That morning she had called police to report some fraudulent transactions on her credit card statement. Well, I had no sooner sat down at the kitchen table and she excused herself from the room. This bundle of grandma sweetness returned  several minutes later carrying a huge platter of home-baked sticky buns. She sat them down in front of me and said, “I hope you like them, I just baked them.” Now in fairness to her, she didn’t realize I had just eaten a huge breakfast and was not particularly fond of sticky buns. But I knew if I didn’t have one of her sticky buns this woman would be devastated, her feelings would be hurt, and I just couldn’t do that to her. So as I sat there listening to Betty I was trying to decide how to resolve the situation in a diplomatic way, without being forced into a situation where I might projectile vomit on her carpet if forced to eat this sticky bun. Well as luck would have it, Betty left the room again to get some bank statements for my investigation. As soon as she left the room, I grabbed the sticky bun from my plate and jammed it into the front pocket of my body armour, zipping it closed. When Betty returned several minutes later, all that remained were the crumbs on my plate. She said, “Oh my, you were hungry, would you like another one?” I smiled politely and said “No thank you, that was delicious.”

In life we sometimes find ourselves in awkward situations. While I believe in forthrightness and being a straight shooter, there are times when a little tact and diplomacy can go along way towards improving or sustaining relations, and relationships. The same principle applies in giving feedback to people. So often people receive performance feedback that is so harsh and destructive that it actually becomes counter-productive.  Harsh feedback delivered without tact and diplomacy can have an adverse effect on the person’s behavior and performance. Like a child who continually hears he/she is dumb, they will soon begin believing and acting in such a way.

As much as people may say they want you to give them straight feedback and tell it like it is, tread carefully. There are very few people who can accept this type of directness when it comes to the most important subject in their life “themself”. Erring on the side of caution with the use of a little tact and diplomacy is a safe strategy, which at the same time gives the impression that the sticky bun was delicious!

Most people may equate long distance relationships to failure because it’s full of twists and turns, not to mention the emotional and financial stress involved. Absence, often times don’t make the heart grow fonder. But I know we all can agree that long distance relationship can have a happy ending too if the right amount of everything is put into it.

Read more…

How predictable.  A giving thanks post on Thanksgiving.  Yawn.

But there’s a reason it’s called Thanksgiving and that’s precisely why it should be acknowledged.  Plus this happens to be one of my favorite holidays, because it’s simply about the three major Fs: family, friends and food.  No presents are involved.  The only requisites are the gift of time spent together and celebrating all that is good.

There’s always the biggie for which to be grateful: Health.  I have mine, for the most part, though I still don’t know what’s happening with my thyroid.  But absent a few sniffles, aches and a minor scare earlier this year, I’m fine.  I give thanks for my health, definitely, and the health of my family.

Of course, thoughts of health lead me to my good friend, Warrior Goddess, whose health this year has been deeply scary.  But her tumor keeps shrinking while her spirits remain optimistic.  Anyone with her steely will and steady heart can never be defeated.

I give thanks for having Warrior Goddess in my life.  Her friendship nourishes me, strengthens me and inspires me.

I give thanks for Devi, my other wonderful friend, who talks straight, but always infuses her advice with true compassion, concern and generosity.

I give thanks for CE, who has treated me, in myriad ways, as few men have treated me, with respect and love, absent of romantic interest.  I love him for making me feel cherished, warm, happy and safe.  He has become my blueprint for the kind of man I’d want as a partner.

I give thanks for the blessing of friendship, in general.  Sometimes I’m amazed that I have such wonderful friends: those who constantly surprise me, who prop me up, who make me laugh, who give me their shoulders and their trust.

I give thanks for my extraordinary children, my beautiful family.  They are healthy, strong, capable, clever, intelligent, intuitive, compassionate and so many other positive adjectives and attributes.  When I look at my children, I see reflected in them my life’s purpose.  They are amazing creatures who have only good to bestow upon the world.

I give thanks for my ex, who on balance has treated me fairly and well.  As much as I rant about him, few couples remain this amicable pre- and post-divorce.  Both of us have worked hard to stay on good terms; it’s a positive testament to us that we’ve succeeded, for the most part.  And as we further distance ourselves, I suspect we’ll become friendlier still.

I give thanks for Cosmo, who saw me through the toughest times of my year.  I cannot imagine how difficult my summer would have been without his support and love.  As much as I wish he still loved me, I hope even more that he is finding his own happiness and peace.  I pray that we may come together again one day as loving friends.

I give thanks for the opportunity to start anew…new beginnings, necessary endings, fresh starts. 

I give thanks for the black days that give rise to the bright ones, for there cannot be light without dark.  And the light is growing, the dark is fading, gradually but surely.

I give thanks for having a roof over my head, soon to be an different roof…one of my own.  I give thanks for the chance to reside in this house, even if temporarily.  To lie in my own bed…to gaze up at the twinkling stars through the skylights…that’s all I want for now.  Serenity.

I give thanks for this blog and the ability to write what I want, when I want…to vent, to giggle, to share. 

I give thanks for the wonders of this exciting world. 

I give thanks that the good eventually outweighs the bad and that hope and faith and courage will always see us through.

I give thanks for my adored extended family, who has just arrived to begin a lively and noisy dinner.  Time to sign off.  Pie, with real whipped cream, is waiting.

Blessings to all.

You might not be thinking about sex on Thanksgiving, but I am.

Happy Thanksgiving!

In the spirit of the holiday, I’ve put together a list of 10 reasons I’m thankful for sex. I’m sure we can all agree there are many more than 10 reasons to be thankful for sexy time, but there is football to be watched, online sales to be shopped and pumpkin pie to be eaten. There just isn’t enough time in this day to say all my Thank You’s.

So, here goes.
My big, fat thank you to fornication!

1. Orgasms. ‘Nuff said.

2. Sex releases endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. They also make your hair shiny and skin smooth.

3. Sex makes babies. Babies are cute (as long as they’re not mine).

4. Sex is free (usually) and fun (usually).

5. Sex helps me connect with people. And not just the people I have sex with. Sex gives me dirty details to dish to my friends, the Internet, or even strangers on the subway.

6. Sex gives me something to write about every week. Which looks good on my resume. Which will help get me a job. Sex will get me a job!

7. Sex gives me something to daydream about during my long, boring biology lectures. (My professor may drone on, but he’s banging and I can only imagine what’s going on under those pleated khakis.)

8. Sex burns calories. Up to 300 an hour! So after today’s feast, it will only take about 25 hours of sex to burn it all off.

9. Sex helps me fall asleep at night, which is a much healthier habit than relying on sleeping pills. Plus it’s more fun. See #4.

10. Sex made me! I’d rather not think about the specifics, but some day a long time ago my parents had (gasp) sex and now here I am. And that is definitely something I can be thankful for.

Why are you thankful for sex?

I guess not everyone can have a perfect vegan partner like I do. I hear pretty often about people whose omnivorous partners are driving them insane, and I suspect that maybe, just perhaps, the omnivorous partners are also being driven insane, which isn’t good for the relationship or the animals. Therefore, this post is about being vegan in a relationship, tailored towards being vegan in a relationship with someone who isn’t vegan.

1. Figure out where you stand. For some people, meat eating or even consuming eggs or dairy is a dealbreaker. For some people, it’s not. Many people who say they want to only date vegans do end up meeting someone awesome who just happens to be an omnivore, while many people who don’t seem to care about only dating veg*ns end up in herbivorous relationships. Go figure. So, you can’t really choose who you’re going to fall for, which means that even if you decide you only want to be with other vegans, the universe may have other plans. The thing you do need to figure out, though, is where you stand on the tough issues like eating out (not that, perverts – I mean restaurants!): would you be willing to go to an omni restaurant with your partner? You’ll also have to think about your kitchen. Would you let your partner cook meat or dairy or eggs in your kitchen? What about if you move in together? What about wool rugs if you move in? Leather sofas? Yeah, some of these things sound anal, and they kind of are, but if you have a good idea about where you stand on these issues, they’re less likely to become fraught, stress-inducing big deals later on, so give it a bit of thought and come up with some well-thought-out reasons for your preferences. You’ll be glad you did.

2. Don’t be a harpy. Seriously. If you decide that you’re cool with being in a relationship with someone who eats meat or dairy or eggs or whatever, then be cool with being in a relationship with someone who eats meat or dairy or eggs or whatever. If you really can’t keep your mouth shut or keep yourself from crying every time your significant other bites into a chicken wing, then you need to go back to step one and be honest with yourself about whether you can/want to handle having a relationship with someone who eats meat/dairy/eggs/whatever. As I’ve said in previous posts, the very best kind of activism is positive activism, so if you do end up with a meat eater (or whatever), remember that harping on their eating habits isn’t going to help the animals; it will only piss off the person you’re sleeping with and eventually ruin your relationship. Instead, step up and cook for your sweetie and show them how awesome vegan food really is. If you present veganism as an awesome new thing for your partner to learn about and explore, they’re a lot more likely to, if not convert, at least be open to eating vegan and accommodating your vegan lifestyle.

3. Remember what’s important. It’s easy to sometimes let all the differences in diet and/or ethics take up too much of your relationship headspace, but it’s important to remember what a relationship is really about. Being with someone isn’t about making them the exact same as you. It’s about sharing your lives and experiences and having fun along the way. Yeah, it sucks that not everyone in the world is vegan (yet!), but until that glorious day comes, and heaven on earth is here at last, lots of vegans are going to be in relationships with non-vegans, and it’s important to remember that you can love people even if they do things you don’t agree with. Again, once you’ve decided that you can be with someone who eats meat or dairy or whatever, let that go, and focus on having great sex and lots of fun together. Relationships are supposed to be fun after all, so don’t let your difference in ethics and/or diets ruin the fun of your relationship. After all, while it may feel a bit weird accepting someone who does something you are so strongly against, you’re certainly not going to win them over by letting the veganism issue get in the way of all the good stuff in the relationship. In the end, you want to help the animals, but you also want to have a life worth living, so take a deep breath, and enjoy the ride!

4. Don’t put up with shit. All that lovey-dovey stuff aside, don’t let your partner bully you or make you feel bad about your veganism. I know a lot of people who have slowly backslid into eating dairy/egg/meat/whatever because they just were worn down by an unsupportive (or even anti-supportive) partner. You need to demand respect for your ethics and your lifestyle from your partner (just like from everyone else). If you’re going to make the effort to live with their dairy/meat/egg/whatever eating, then they owe you the same courtesy. If your partner really has that much of a problem with you being vegan that they won’t shut up about it, then it’s perhaps time to move on.

5. Navigate partnered-up social situations with grace. I know, it’s a lot to ask, but a lot of people stress about things like family dinners with their partner (particularly when it’s the partner’s family) and social situations with their partner’s friends. These things don’t have to be a nightmare, and with a bit of planning and communication, it can be fun (and even educational!). If you’re going to hang out with your partner’s family or friends, either call ahead (if you feel comfortable doing that), or ask your partner to talk to his/her people about vegan food options. You can offer to bring something yourself if that’s appropriate, or you can suggest new and exciting places to eat if you’re going out. Frame your suggestions as fun and exciting rather than acting apologetic. While you’re at it, frame yourself as fun and exciting rather than a downer. People really pick up on the cues you give them (especially when you’re meeting new people), so if you let people know that you’re awesome and that veganism is awesome, chances are, they’ll go along with it. If people do give you a hard time, just know in your mind that it’s them and not you that’s the problem, and do your best to change the subject whenever they start acting dickish.

Happy relating!

If I had a condom for each time somebody told me their sexual activity is down during the holidays, we could reduce unwanted teen pregnancies by 50%.  If you want be among the group who has a December filled with romance, it starts with intention.

For 10 sure fire tips on how to get the sex you want this holiday season go to an article I wrote at http://www.accessrx.com/blog/sexuality-dr-neil-cannon/top-10-holiday-tips-for-sex/.   Enjoy!

My favorite holiday movie is “Home For the Holidays” with Holly Hunter. It’s a classic peek into the trainwreck we call the American family. I’ve often wondered if the same thing happens all over the world. People are, after all, just people.

The movie shows what happens when people leave home and pursue their own lives: we become influenced by our new surroundings; we expand our perspective; we change. The ones that never left have a hard time grappling with the changes in the ones who left. And the romantic “homecoming” of greeting cards and old time movies melts down into a wreck worthy of its own Reality Show.

The key word here is CHANGE. People change. Your relatives aren’t who you think they are. Your sister isn’t who she was when she lived at home 30 years ago with you. Your mother and dad actually DO have lives, and always have had lives, unbeknownst to you when you were a kid.

In truth, we have never really known our siblings, our parents, or even our own children. We know a piece of them, the piece that interacted with us. And that piece is only one tiny facet of their life experience. You know this is true, because it is true for you with your own family. They have expectations of you that puzzle you and leave you exasperated and frustrated.

So, how do you have a Happy Thanksgiving? How do you navigate the treacherous waters of the Holidays with most of your hair intact and your brain cells un-fried?

Get thee centered. Take a deep breath. Don’t impose your memories on anyone else, and deflect others when they try to impose old baggage on you. Have a plan. Have a set of things you want to talk about that are not inflammatory, accusatory, or incendiary. Be there with the overriding goal of celebrating who everyone is NOW.

You may not be able to avoid arguments, but if you play your cards right, they won’t be the relationship-ending, childhood-dredging, resentment-fostering nightmare that plagues many family gatherings.

Seven Phrases that will turn Thanksgiving into a Trainwreck:

1. Negating Accomplishments: “You have to be kidding me, you never [did that, said that, won that....]”
2. Devastating Confessional: “Mom, I’ve never told you this, but do you know what I did when….”
3. Insecurity: “You never [appreciated me; noticed me; loved me; gave me; told me....]
4. Resentment: “Why did/didn’t you…..”
5. The Take Down: “Remember when you [embarrassing moment recall...]”
6. Tattletale Tease: “Do you all know what [sister, brother, cousin, aunt, mom, dad] did way back when?”
7. Attack: “How Dare You.” “You always…”

It’s easy to tell you not to say those things, but what do you do when they say them to you? That’s frustrating, because we can get plugged into our siblings and relatives “stuff.”  I do what’s called “distract the baby” – I change the subject to something they enjoy. I just look at them calmly, don’t acknowledge the comment, and take them in another direction. Try these (assuming none of these are connected to disasters!)

• Ask about their favorite sport, movie, TV show
• Ask about the kids, dogs, cats
• Have a current event from their town and ask their take on it
• Tell them something you always appreciated about them
• See the angle here? Get them talking about something that makes them happy. Never mind bragging about your accomplishments. Families never really appreciate that. Save it for your friends.

Sometimes a calm smile and a shake of the head without any verbal response is the best response. A friend of mine will wave her hand and say, “You’re so funny.” And walk away. That often works better than lecturing them. Making the comment irrelevant has the effect of neutralizing it, and the comment will drop to the floor where you can sweep it into the trash later.

The reality is this: Humans are awkward, weird, uncomfortable, and nervous about the holidays. We have romantic hopes and expectations, and often those are smashed against the rocks of reality known as our family. Because they think they know our history, they bring out insecurities and memories of family moments long past.

People who attack are saying, “I’m Insecure!” They want to pull you down so they can mask that.  Showing a little appreciation, reminding them about the good times, and taking the conversation down a safer road is a good choice. We are all capable of warm and loving interactions. The ones attacking just don’t know you anymore and they don’t know what to say. If you take the lead and keep conversations safe, everyone will have a better Thanksgiving.

Think of it as self-preservation. You are eating a heavy meal, don’t stress your heart any more than you have to. And Relax. At the end of the day, you are still you. They are still themselves. Nothing changes. And life is just too short to waste precious family time dredging up disasters.

Most importantly, when someone says “Thank You” – just say “You are welcome.” Don’t take away from their sincere appreciation of you by saying, “It was nothing.” Or “No biggie.”  To them, it was something. It’s OK to just smile and nod and accept it.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

© 2009 Beth Terry Seminars, Inc.

My dear sweet baby boy. Well you are back, at least somewhat. You know I don’t ever take anything for granted with you though. I’m standing here on pins and needles. I’m trying like hell to hang onto you for dear life. It is so hard for me though. I am so used to not EVER fighting for anything. You are definitely making me stronger though baby. And for that I really am truly thankful. Maybe that is partly why you were sent to me. To help me find my strength, to help me stand up for myself, go after what I want, make myself a priority. Being with you is my priority now. I want you in my life so badly. I know I will be so happy with you. So just keep your ass right here with me dammit and quit pushing me away.

You may be back…for now, but I am gonna fight like hell to make sure you are back for good. You’re mine now.

I think of a man I know, think of him at the end of his day as I reach the end of mine, aimless, a bit. I wonder how he is.

He’s a window into a world I don’t understand or experience: the world of men.

It’s fascinating to hear a man talk about his wife (if sometimes discomforting) when you are a wife, and sometimes behave the way he says his wife does, if only at home.

I think of him on a darkening holiday eve as I play at architecture, typing construction estimates into a spreadsheet, remember dark evenings many years ago when I also played at architecture, worked with men and wondered at them with less knowledge.

Don’t misunderstand: this is not about sex or romance or similar nonsense. It is about lenses intersecting briefly, as I think of where to buy beer on my way home and remember an afternoon when the man noticed a bar he’d not seen before and said, I think I’ll stop there this afternoon, when the day is over. It’s a Venn diagram of memory: in one set there are layers of fading light, in another, words about demolition and masonry and windows, and above them both, memories of a lost man.

I go back to this again and again, so useless: why do I miss the lost man? I understand why architecture makes me think of him, but why, what do I miss?

In the end, for all I have fought it, love matters.

Touch matters.

DSKM asked me today if I would go for a massage if she paid for one at the physical therapy office. I have had to explain—and this is not easy—that I do not like to be touched.

It is not about sex.

I crave it, crave physical contact and relish it. I love the feel of different materials (wool, silk, cotton) on my skin, love to move, to feel the pleasant pain of physical exertion. But I do not like to be touched; I stiffen and push away like a cat when people approach, react with the same fear and unease the feral cat shows when I hold her. Did I learn this from my mother, not very cuddly with me, who would not hold my son when he was a baby? Did I learn this in the long lonely months, the seasons when I was alone? It is a curious thing, this paradox, this irony.

The man makes me think of it, when he talks about his family.

He clearly loves his children, easily, with pride and buoyant happiness. His wife? It is not for me to say. What passes between any couple is mysterious, the shades and tints and hues of love and caring and habit. I have learned this in my own life, wondered about the shadows between love and inertia, the truth about dependence.

We stay: we stay in marriages for children, stay in jobs for children and marriages, keep the machine moving, oiled, fueled. This is funnier when the mechanics refuse to work on your car, and you begin to wonder if the therapist pushing for resolution sees your life, your marriage, the way your mechanics see your car.

I know why I stay, the good reasons and the bad; they are common reasons, the usual reasons. I flip this around sometimes, wonder what I would do if I was not the woman. Would I stay, would I go? Would I go if I had more friends, more of a sense of support? I lose friends easily, with spectacular talent, but once I had a life and knew people; I think this is part of what I miss when I miss the man who is lost.

Missing. The man I’m thinking of seems to be missing something in his life, and I wonder what would happen if he told his wife some of what he has told me. I wonder this not because I tell my husband all the things I should, but because of all the things I did not tell the man who is lost, and that I wish I had.

Then I wonder how much it matters what we say to our spouses when what does matter, it seems, is love. I thought this tamed and sensible love I have for my husband would do, that the mad passionate love I had for the man who is lost, the love I still feel like a phantom limb, I thought that kind of love was dangerous, flared up and died magnesium-bright and fast.

Perhaps the mistake was in not understanding the need for passion of that intensity to fuel the long marriages we live in now, a tender full of coal to ride these endless rails.

I have wrestled with this as long as I have known my husband. I have known through all of these years that he is not the man I love the most, and not the man whose touch I crave. But I loved him enough to marry him, and the man I’m thinking of loved his wife enough to marry her, to have children.

I choose to stay, he chooses to stay. Who can say what is right?

I once thought staying was right, do no harm, don’t hurt the child, the children.

This still is true. I know, too, that I will not love another man the way I loved and love the man who is lost.

The man I’m thinking of seems to have no such phantom limb. He has pride and honor and self-awareness, and what I hope for him most of all is a peace and a happiness with his life.

The dark corners of our minds must be borne, but they need not rule. There must be a way to peace with honesty. This I would wish for all of us.

Thanksgiving, man! Not a good day to be my pants.” – Kevin James

Red High Heels

By:

Kellie Pickler

Baby I’ve got plans tonight
You don’t know nothin’ about
I’ve been sitting around way too long
Trying to figure you out
But you say that you’ll call and you don’t
And I’m spinning my wheels
So I’m going out tonight
In my red high heels

I’m gonna call up that old boyfriend
You said still has it bad for me
I’m gonna take him into town
Flaunt him around for everyone to see
Well you said so yourself
You know the deal
Nobody holds a candle to me
In my red high heels

Well you can watch me walk if you want to, want to
I’ll bet you want me back now don’t you, don’t you
I’m about to show you just how missin’ me feels
In my red high heels

All those games you tried to play
Well they ain`t gonna work on me now
I put up a barbed wire fence
around my heart
Baby just to keep you out
Well you thought I’d wait around forever
But baby get real
I just kicked you to the curb
In my red high heels

Oh you can watch me walk if you want to, want to
I’ll bet you want me back now don’t you, don’t you
I’m about to show you just how missin’ me feels
In my red high heels

Oh you can watch me walk if you want to, want to
I’ll bet you want me back now don’t you, don’t you
I’m about to show you just how missin’ me feels

Oh you can watch me walk if you want to, want to
I’ll bet you want me back now don’t you, don’t you
I’m about to show you just how missin’ me feels
In my red high heels

Oh you can watch me walk if you want to, want to
I’ll bet you want me back now don’t you, don’t you
I’m about to show you just how missin’ me feels
In my red high heels

Oh you can watch me walk if you want to, want to
I’ll bet you want me back now don’t you, don’t you
I’m about to show you just how missin’ me feels
In my red high heels

In my red high heels
In my red high heels

Check out the other HNT”S over at O’s

Maybe not fuck the WHOLE family…

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I want to wish every a Happy Thanksgiving! Today I am grateful for the these people:

Jesus- The God man made flesh who walked the earth setting the example. Go back and read about his compassion and his tireless work, it will really touch your heart. Jesus was a teacher who loved the synagogue and loved people. What an example for me to follow. He never saw appearance he only saw condition. I aspire to be that for my generation.

My Mom- If anyone ever believed in her children she does. My mom tends to be negative about most things and pretty opinionated, but one thing is for sure, she believes we are the greatest gift to this generation. Even when she’s disappointed in us, she will find something worth hanging onto. She thinks this blog is the smartest thing on the Internet, she thinks I am her best gift ever and she is my biggest cheerleader. Even when we are on total opposite sides of a issue she puts up with me. She is someone I can count on and I more often than not, take her SO for granted.

Anthony- My kids are my blessing from God. Anthony is pure love. He is such a good man. I see him now with his girlfriend and he speaks so well of her and how he looks after his sister and how he checks in with me, his mom! What a gift God gave me when he allowed me to be Ant’s mom.

Cassandra Allyse- Sassy, smart and outgoing she is so independent. I love who she is becoming. She is her mother’s daughter in a lot of ways. She works too much, she loves deep, she has her own opinions. We are at a place where there are things I can say and things that she doesn’t want to hear from me but nevertheless, we love each other, we frustrate each other, we misunderstand each other and then we need each other. She is a great daughter and she has been fun to raise.

Doug – When he smiles at me it’s all over. Doug is kind beyond anyone I’ve ever known. Doug sees everything that is right with people, an ability I will never have, ever no matter how long I live. Doug has the ability to forgive and forget and leave the past behind him on most things. He’s not perfect by any means but he’s pretty darn close.

Lauren- Technically Lauren  is my stepdaughter but I don’t see her that way. She’s my kid. We didn’t always see eye to eye and sometimes we still don’t but I have great hope for her. With a year and a half of high school to go, she is having to step things up. I know she will do great things with her life. Behind the tough sarcastic exterior that she pretends to show, she’s pretty caring. Just don’t tell anyone.

Charles Anthony- the cactus of the bunch, he is my stepson. He is the one whom the Lord uses to refine me. ‘Nuff said.

Lulu- the wonder dog. Lu has a story that touches my heart. She came to me at a time when I really needed someone to take care of and love. She sleeps right next to me as I type this. She is with me when I speak to God, so she knows all of my cares and secrets and she doesn’t judge me for it. She just sighs, puts her chin on my knee and looks into my eyes. She is my lovey honey precious girl.

Oasis- my church. Not the building the people in it. We are a family and I’m so glad!

My friends- Some are old, some are new and all are loved. I especially love the ones with whom I can trust to tell me the truth. Everyone needs those people in their life and I am grateful for them.

My Country-I’m really glad to be American. If you’ve ever traveled, even a bit, you will find that you were born hitting a home run to be born and raised in this country.

Most days I feel like God’s favorite kid. I love how he loves me and blesses me daily. I am grateful for health, for love, for family. Life is good and I am thankful. Let’s live Thanks Living lives! Happy Thanksgiving!

I just don’t understand……

I give you freedom, I don’t doubt your close girl friend(s), I don’t demand you report your whereabouts, I don’t demand you to ferry me to and fro, I don’t demand you to even send me to my lift, I don’t demand you to spend each and every second with me, I respect your choices.

What more do you want from me? If you say you feel you are not a good bf?