they are pink velvet . and they have tassels. because. target.
my mom is not coming over to take the littlest to dance bc of the contagiousness. so we are going to be skipping it. which will make this littlest SOOOOO happy and will make me only have one trip out for a child, which makes me SOOOO happy.
the days of darkness have arrived.
any more metaphors out there for me?
my vision is literally clouded.
the ceiling has fallen.
the beaten down yeast has risen again, and been cooked.
what we most fear (being duped) happens to us again and again
the pipes have burst.
the windows to the soul are full of gunk. crud.
pink the color of dawn. pink the color of contagion.
i have these cards that i use for inspiration sometimes. there are two sets. one, i’ve had since high school, literally. a gift because i knew a girl who’s mom was a medium.
really. its just not all that common, is it? i really got to know that chrissy much later in life, but she was a friend of a friend several times over and i was cool enough to ‘hang’… 🙂
so. because i knew her a little bit, i hung out in a few cool places and got to see these sweet little cards, called angel cards. ( i think that’s their real name but it might be that i made it up at some point. )
you flip a card and that’s your touchpoint for the day, the week, whatever. your challenge to your brain, your task to ponder ( i use tarot cards the same way, i think) …. and mine has said ‘play’ for the past three weeks. (because i have almost no routine at these things, whatsoever.)
and why? why would i be so resistant to PLAY? i mean, my soul is a preschool teacher!!?! COME ON. but i think i don’t want to pick another til i somehow incorporate it into my life in a more substantial way than playing ‘mastermind’ with my sick kid.
what about you? do you have some way to get play into your life? that delight that is in real play?
i actually want to know.
and its not just because that damn card is staring me in the face.
this is the winter of my discontent, y’all. i include the y’all to forcibly add some sun to my bleak inner bog.
and its really pretty easy to interject sun, because none of it is that bad.
I’m alone too much. As much as I like it, the weekends are leaving me listless. I have to force myself out into the world and then I run back home, but I’m depressed about it. I don’t think thats good.
i’m happy pretty often. healthy, the kids are good, we’re in this blissful pre-teenager lull of everyone-is-pretty-content on the homefront period… and i’m digging it.
i know its fleeting and I’m watching it like the first snow. . .
I go to Salvation Army and sit down in the sofas… because it cracks me up. Its me and the other old ladies…i take some photos, i send them around to friends to make them laugh. this is me begging for a foot rub… mah foots, mah foots…
but really, theres something shifting here… something tidal going on… salty snow, maybe. that slurry at the shore during the winter when the water is spitting foam on the sand…
i’m laughing more. nothing is working. i’m scared about money. i’m soldiering on trying to get editing jobs, which is sometimes working. things just really aren’t ‘quite’ panning out the way they would in a romance. but we all know those things are for absolute shit. everything is breaking.
i’m dressing in the weirdest clothing, as i try to suit my weight gain and my love of my curves… the body that i am ‘used to’ dressing isn’t this one, and i’ve never had so much to contend with… (!) so … i’m trying things on… wearing a lot of draping fabrics, swishing skirts and so much softness. I’m turning into some sort of mobile stuffed animal, i think.
which might attract the wrong crowd maybe… blech.
*i did meet one guy online who liked to wear adult diapers. for fun. wanted to call me mommy. i’m not even making that up.
on the other hand, i’ve met a lot of men who respected the hell out of the job i do as a mom. and found it sexy. and I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH THAT MEANS.
to have the perception of others AND self be that one is a nag, an abandoned housewife in apron with straggly unkempt hair and dirty children … and to have that SHIFT to powerful, life-affirming, grounded, nourishing, excellent fuckability… all-encompassingly womanly?!
holy mother of god.
i would recommend divorce for all of us, if i could guarantee that you’d get that, just for a minute…. (otherwise, not at all. i don’t recommend it at all).
on the note of ‘non-recommendation’, i am going to check out. i just had a kid come home sick with vague complaints… since when do school nurses buy into vague complaints? sheesh. and when she called, she used my maiden name, which thrilled me.
‘Tis the season, right? I confess to having a serious, quasi-serious, problem here. I blame my grandmother and my mother-in-law for my sticky fingers when it comes to deals. and this time of year, when deals are flashing at me from every techie corner? I’ve got some issues.
Particularly as I’ve had to use my credit card again for the car AND for the ceiling.
i don’t know how you feel about credit cards (obviously, i mean, i don’t even know how you feel about shoes, or writing, or politics!, for goodness sakes)… but i haven’t used mine for over 3 years. I’ve got an amount on it, from when i was a landlord with my ex, and all the house expenses went on it… but i’ve been paying it down, more than the monthly, every month. no worries.
the seal is broken.
or, that’s how it feels… like some portal in one of my many sci-fi books, movies, shows… some swirling portal of LURK exists now. the DOOM LURK…
and of course, coincidentally, my eyes are swelling to monumental SIZE… the DEALS.. the DEALS… all anyone has to do is hint at discounts and i’m literally salivating. add to this, i’m still on the quit-smoking wagon, have (evidently) gained a tremendous amount of weight and need all sorts of new things to make myself feel better. because.
SO FAR, i have maintained. the kids have gotten clothing, not gadgets. the birthday that comes 10 days before the blessed Child’s birth is covered… and has been covered since the summer, because that kid has obsessions, so its easy. this time around? manatees.
Its hard, when i want to buy presents for everyone, and am trying to space out expenditures, and don’t like to be conscripted by a ‘budget’… (you smart people who handle money well are freaking laughing and rolling on the floor, i know) …I recognize how gross the season is, gluttony wise… I’m not sure how to move forward, really, except to resist.
resist with all that my little heart can muster.
i’ve unsubscribed to some store’s emails, so that i no longer see the deals. i have been limiting some of my social media time because there are surprising numbers of attractive ads in there, and i love to explore new colors! fabrics! oooooh! squirrel!
but i spent a whole lot of time resisting in my marriage, because things were so out of control. and i resent the resistance. so my only real strategy is just not to be scrolling so often. just eyes on the ground, that kind of thing. AND , i give myself permission to go to Salvation Army any time I want. because. recycling. its good for the planet.
thats all i’m saying. i’m a force for good in the world. because.
so one of the things that has gone on in this two weeks now of chumpery is this: online dating scams are kicking me in the ass.
these are men who have full portfolios at reputable dating sites, and the entire portfolio is someone else. you see, you talk… you slowly feel funny………..
you are asked for money.
i am too much of an old leathered briefcase to fall for this. but i stick with it way past feeling funny, and therein lies my biggest chumpery.
here are things to look out for….
(of course there are exceptions, but these are basics.)
oh, how sad, how sad. how sad that we as women find an obviously wounded man so attractive. eyebrows up! hint o’truth: just cause the lady’s dead, doesn’t mean there aren’t issues.
I know, you think I’m an asshole now. But I’m not. what you’ll find, when you look at a picture of a ‘caucasian-ish’ male, and then when you talk on the phone, he will have an accent… which he will describe as irish, and you will wrinkle your forehead about. and you will say ‘hmmm, wow… that last guy said he was irish too… why are there so many irish guys on here’… (one guy said he was italian, to be fair.) foreign does not mean brown, bitches.
also, as an addendum, the texting you do before the phone call will be rife with mistakes, grammatical or spelling… but you will overlook it because many men cannot use their potato fingers on phone keys.
one actually real man actually typed ‘are’ for ‘our’ and it took me ages to figure out what the hell he was saying.
You will see such lovely photos. So handsome. When you ask for a selfie, which you should, you will be sent one that you have seen on the website. you will ask for another and receive another, but it will not be a current photo. When asked for a selfie, one man sent me a photo of himself in a tee by a pool. but it was Thanksgiving, and 19 degrees where we live, and he said it was his mother’s pool. (no one In NEW ENGLAND doesn’t close up their pool by Thanksgiving. no one.)
I actually had one ‘video call’ which was to assuage my worries about reality, and the man was cooking at 7:15 in the morning, not thanksgiving, and the call ‘cut out’.
what this tells me? man, these scammers are stealing a lot of material from people… a lot. he had his ‘daughter’ text me that afternoon asking for a phone card. she called me ‘ma’. legit.
Of course they will say they have children. because, man, we are women who want to be needed. But of course, those children will live with their mothers or their sisters… because it is just too hard for men to do it all alone. thus proving, how much we are needed.
Fast and Furious
There will be dramatic love, very early on, like the first day you have any communication. They are so struck by your beauty, by your eyes/smile/voice that they have never felt like this before… that it is so amazing for them, that they can’t wait to wake up to call you first thing…. They can ‘tell’ and they can manipulate and be so ‘affronted’ by any questioning… its like the perfect storm. this is all without any actual meeting.
I think it must have some relationship to emotional abuse… because that is what it is, when a stranger can make you somehow feel beholden to them somehow… how does that work anyhow? why does that work?
I haven’t fallen for anything, don’t worry, but it has happened a half dozen times, and I am not getting any faster at swiping correctly and there is a part of me that continues out of curiosity. Should I help them out with their English? Some are so much better than others… and, I mean, how far are these guys going to go?! I presume that they do not want an actual meeting, so are they going to say they’ll show and call last minute? would i really be sitting, stood up, at a bar ? really? this is for what?
so i’ll buy their make-believe daughter a 50 dollar phone card? so i’ll buy a deployed soldier an itunes card? So i’ll help win a work contract or help pay for the travel there?
does this really ever work for someone? are there women out there who buy this?
i know there are. and I feel for you. because this last guy? he got me in the feels.
not because i ever really doubted my suspicions, but because I REALLY WANTED TO.
i wanted it to be like he said it was. I wanted to be someone’s lucky star.
and therein lies the ouch.
This latest one called me Queen, told me it was my smile that got him… called me in the morning to be the first voice i heard. ( i mean, for real?!…) and the fakeness became sort of heartbreaking (in a..i’m too tough to be heartbroken by a fake sortof way) … but it was heartbreaking because its the first time i really REALLY realized that I am ready for the next thing… with a little romance thrown in, and maybe some of those frightening feelings that i’ve tucked away for so long.
i had some of that with Chef, my first lover after the marriage ended. took me a year and a half to be interested, which i still think is remarkable, and sadly devastating.
it was completely delightful. and extravagant and So utterly perfect for the first times i was having. but the other thing that was perfect was his distance. he was essentially a sailor, coming through and leaving soon… so challenged none of the systems i had precariously rigged to get me through my first stages of single momming. i should definitely talk about him soon. it was unbelievable, in all the best ways.
I HAVE DIGRESSED.
there’s also literal SAILORS… soldiers on deployment. i’ve bumped into foreign legion men, men who say distance in no object, who also have children living with their mothers, who also can’t seem to get itunes gift cards at the base. the government just can’t seem to keep stocked.