Gut Checked

isHe gave me a card, as he does once in a while out of the blue, about how I see him happy, and grumpy, and sick, and silly, and thank you, for still choosing to love him.

He let me take custody of his grandmother’s rocking chair indefinitely because I said I missed having one.

He told me to take my time getting over my divorce — to be true to my own timetable.

He called me a “lovely woman.”

It was a good weekend.





I’m having a gut check…

thDo you want to have lunch at the Thai restaurant?

No, let’s just grab a sandwich at our usual.

How are you?

Ok.  I had bad dreams…You left me.

Do you want to come over on Tuesday nights and watch Genius together?

I could do that.  We sleep better in my bed, though.

Do you like my new purse?  I decided it was easier and cheaper to just buy a new bag instead of searching for new handles for my old one.

Well, it’s not a Dooney & Bourke, is it?





Rights and Wrongs. You don’t scare me, Beginning of 2017.


Full moon is gone.

Friday the 13th is gone.

Cancer isn’t gone, but at least it’s not as “here” as it was a couple of days ago.

That horoscope was wrong — my relationship didn’t fall apart on 1/12.

So, there you go.  Wrongs look right and things you read that you assume are right are, in the words of Trump,



“You’re wrong.”


“Fake news.”

I think I may be one of those people who desperately looks for answers outside of myself, when they are completely ignored on the inside.

Sun is shining.

It is not dark when I get out of my work building anymore.

You don’t scare me January!


I’m ditching this horoscope source, unless it turns out to be accurate, then I’ll just be its frightened slave…

“Love Forecast for the Week of January 9
Your love life might be quite emotional this week — and not in a happy way.
A stressed out Full Moon on Thursday in your romance sector threatens your heart strings — or wakes them up. It’s possible that you’ll come to the uncomfortable realization that the person you’re with simply is unable to meet your emotional needs.”

Isn’t this a lot of shit to process on only the 9th day of the year?!  Where are the upbeat, hopeful platitudes for a new beginning?  We got stuff blowing up right out of the gate?   

I hope it’s not true, but if it turns out to be true, I will be a loyal reader, and just have to know, that with all that goes on in the world, someone’s got to have a shitty horoscope.  I guess that might be me this week.  thodj458lvI’ll keep you posted.  If my bf had a mustache like this guy, I wouldn’t be so heartbroken, but to each his or her own.

Screw Strife; Happy Life

Here are two pictures of things I did this weekend:


  1. I went to a David Bromberg concert.  He has many, varied, great songs, but I was introduced to him by hearing his song, “I’ll take you back.”  It scratched the getting-divorced-spot exquisitely.  He’ll take her back when, “water ain’t wet and congress pays off the national debt.”  You get it.  And,stash-pumkin
  2. I carved this lovely jack-o-lantern.  This is supposed to look like my bf’s cat.  If you knew how un-crafty I am, you would be very proud.  Despite the fact that the cat’s tail looks like a dragon, or some kind of reptile tail, and it’s a little lopsided, I like it.  It does look like by bf’s cat.

My weekends are happier.  I’m happier.

There’s always strife, but it’s easier to box up these days.



Does that make me awful? Does that make you un-awful?! Is the grass blue? Wait, was that a pig?

So far in my life, this was my gig:  telling you I would never do something you didn’t want me to do, and then doing it in the dark (you’d never find out), shaking my head yes, with no intention of following through on your stupid idea.

You were too volatile to explain things to; too self centered to entertain a new idea.  I had tried.  For years.  I thought that made me better than you.

Now that I’m the target of passive-aggressiveness, I f*ing hate it.

It’s so oppressive.  Like humidity.  I just want some AIR, but knowing the passive-aggressive game, I know she’s just gearing up.  She has months left until she’s tired of smothering me with it, if not years.

When you go on the interweb to find helpful ways to deal with this treatment, you also get a big side dose of how awful passive-aggressives are.  Just like you do when reading up on tips to handle narcissists.  Yeah, they suck!

Now, wait a minute…

Yes, she is acting awful.  I don’t deserve her treatment of me.  But I’m not awful.  Yet, being passive-aggressive has been pretty much a mainstay for me.

Does that make me…


Does that make the narcissist in my life…


Just misguided sometimes, as I like to think of myself?

No, I can’t extend this kindness to the narcissist yet, but being the kindred spirit to the woman who is mentally torturing me is…

Weird.  Mind blowing.  All consuming.  Earth upending.  And, softening.

Image result for upside down earth

Can I extend her some kindness?

It’s exhausting to be forced to learn all life’s lessons in the span of two years:  death of a parent; mental illness diagnosis of a child; divorce; moving; trying not to toy with the next significant other’s heart; wondering if you really are the “good” person you always told yourself you were.



I’m not done… Signed, Cranky Pants

It’s fucking hot.

The too-tight clothes stick

to the squishy parts.

Is that a poem?

The hair I’m trying to grow (why?  why try to grown hair after a certain age?) is damp and frizzy and doesn’t look good in a ponytail (long-waisted AND weird shaped head) and the bangs are not quite long enough to be held back.  Bangs are a constant hassle…at least mine are…so I’m trying to get rid of them.  I know that won’t last long, however, because then my forehead wrinkles will be on display.

I have to go to an outdoor party this afternoon.

I know; boo hoo.  Yes, it’s a party – wine, good food, lake, people I work with, but OUTSIDE?

Did I mention that it’s FUCKING hot?  (That’s about 97 degrees to people without a potty mouth.)

My daughter is coming to stay the weekend in my tiny apartment…That’s good…but the bf is banished…he can’t help feeling jealous…and who knows what kind of mind fuckery her dad will have in store for her…and I will be on call to anticipate this interaction and pick up the pieces as best I can.  She deserves one reliable parent.

Do I need medication?

Is this what’s going on here?

Am I an ungrateful a-hole about my single lifestyle and party-going obligations?

Is that what’s going on here?

I just know one thing, whatever’s going on…

It’s FUCKING hot.