Self-Check, and then WHAT? (bullets AND asterisks)

So. if one realizes that she is setting up dates just to avoid doing stuff by herself, then what?

should something be shifted?

STUPID ONLINE DATING again. and what it makes you think about.

  • i had two dates this weekend. technically three, but we mutually cancelled the third because it was too much of a hookup connection and that is easy, but not what i am looking for currently. boy* was nice that it was mutual, he’s probably a nice, but randy fellow.

  • i don’t really want to have two dates again this weekend. at the end of it all, i felt like my weekend had sort of been hijacked by the experience.  could’ve been the three sports events too… but sunday lunch getting the kids and being wiped out isn’t really my bag.

  • one of the dates was really nice. i would have liked to be invited out to dinner by him. he plants trees. no invite yet. and none coming. boy.**

  • the other date was also nice, but definitely an incompatible situation, and thats where i have to stop to maintain graciousness.

  • so, what? i’m… what? why do i feel like i need to make decisions? like, Decisions? wild directional changes because of a mundane and uninteresting weekend?


*can’t tell you how long its been since i ‘decided’ not to go for the easy.  damn. easy is way more fun than ego-bruising curiosity games.

**RESILIENCE!!   ….it takes me a good ten hours to get my ego back to a good spot (it being one of the first times i ever didn’t get a second date request…) … ten hours and then i can honestly say that it doesn’t have to do with me, as much as it does with him, what he is looking for and what he wants for his life, whatever that may be.   during that ten hours, though? boy.* i am full of the suckitude and the fears.  am i too fat now? am i not as funny as i think? am i too much of a mom? too much? too much? too much?

*** unconnected asterisks***   all the men i’ve had first dates with? it wasn’t about them, either. it was about me. and what i can handle, or not, or how much ‘drama’ i foresee in my pretend mind…. and some of them were really nice, and good. wanting a second date sucks. thats where the hard stuff actually is. (but also some more fun stuff.)

i want the fun stuff. I WANT THE FUN STUFF!





First dates- online dating again…

I’m getting really good at first dates.

!immediately i realize that if i were supergood at it, i’d be having no more of them at all. so.



okay, little regrouping.

wait, wait.  am i judging success by ‘finding a mate’?  well, thats out of my hands, actually.  depends on the mate, the stars aligning, the universal (ok, maybe not) acknowledgement that I am open for a “love” encounter.  it makes me want to throw up that i just wrote that.

I am really good at surviving a first date.  i like people, i am curious about people.  of course i notice if they don’t listen to me or laugh at my jokes, but i’m still invigorated by the one on one dialogue.

and then, of course, another digression:

it was suggested that i need to get out into community more, ACTUAL people, not virtual, and as i was riding to my first date, i realized i might be using all these dates to just avoid trying to fill my weekends with things i want to do and see, but have to do and see alone… dates as humanity avoidance, ? hows that?

so, of course, i have nerves beforehand, but its all to do with me, nothing to do with him, because i have no idea who they are, so i can barely make up any story in my head. its awesome.  and i’m pretty sure to send a dorky picture of myself along because i don’t want anyone expecting anything different than that… lets be real here…even if i was in my sassiest outfit, i’d still end up cracking myself up over eggs or coffee or whatnot…

i try to wear jeans and a top, all season gear.  its winter now so a sweater the size of texas is pretty typical. although i do like to hint at my curves. i try not to wear a hat, but sometimes i fail at this.  winter.  i don’t wear makeup so there’s no ‘face’ to fix.

i just figure if i want to dazzle a man, it would be nice to do it when they actually care for me, later on…as a surprise… oh my gosh, she’s so damn funny AND can dress up?!

oh my god, today’s date was lovely, but mostly because i woke up late, all my ‘date clothes’ were wet in the dryer so i just threw on what was clean and ran, because ‘late is hate’ … so no pre-date jitters at all. and he seemed okay with it, though i did not tell him i’d forgotten to brush my teeth. i did brush my hair though, so, win. he was nice, smart and different.

i don’t know what men think of all this, but they’ve mostly all wanted a second try.

close up photography of bulb on water
Photo by fotografierende on

and therein lies the flashing light that signals kate’s ACTUAL state:  i am deathly scared of a second date.


everyone has something.


asterisk, not bullet.

a moment, a star to mark what has been left out.

left out? so many things.

*the insecurity that keeps us back… we believe its insecurity that keeps us from being our wild and precious stuff.

*people keep saying they are grieved by mary oliver’s death.  i am not.  she has left us such a precious gift, my god, what more does anyone want from a life?

nothing gold can stay.

but i can read her glitter absolutely any time that i want to, or need to. Its still here. ITS STILL HERE!!!

*the adulting that makes us need tell another adult we don’t want to romantically pursue them. or have them pursue us.

the feeling that results when there is no pursuit. even if the above sentence is also true.

*the place in myself that is getting depressed at not meeting anyone that fires up my heart fires. maybe a belief that nothing gold can stay is making its weight felt too heavily.

*the deep worry that it is not insecurity, but fatheaded laziness that keeps us from our greater wild. inability. lassitude.

because maybe that is true.

these are the left-outs. the misfits. the misfires.



i killed the sofa.

and i’m weeping about it.

hiding from my kids style.

because i approached the handmedown sofa with a drill and a hammer and the screws and nails needed and i couldn’t fix it. and maybe i made it worse, because now no one else will ever be able to undo what i have done.

and in combination with my depression about not finding men that i want in my life, i am finding a lot of fault in my inability to fix the fucking sofa.

i told my kid i needed to be the person who does all this stuff. and i can’t . i can’t do all this stuff.

which leads me to men, again, which then leads me back again, and again, to my desire to fix my own fucking sofa. and yet, i have killed it. dead.

so i’m withdrawing from my life for the afternoon. on a chair. because its becoming way bigger than a sofa.



and all i want to do is apologize for this post, because no one needs to feel sorry for me, or pay attention to rambling self-pity.



Golden Orbs and Mud

i’ve been trying to wrap my head around something in these past couple days.  bumping into alcohol again makes me feel pretty badly about myself, which is irrational, i know, but so it is anyhow.  i feel like mud.

but then someone said something so SO nice about me, something I am very very proud that could be said about me, not simply because i believe it to be true.

she commented on how strong my support was. and it is. when i love someone, i plant my feet and lean out over the water and face the hurricane down. i really fucking do.  and i deeply feel that the people that i love deserve the best that there is. and anything else is unacceptable.  it is deeply true and whether that friendship is virtual or not, i fucking think that my people are absolutely golden orbs in the world.

and many of you reading this are those orbs. and when i find someone in need of my support, i plant those feet again, or bring my ass right down to the ground, open my chest and send them all the light and love and fierceness that they need.  and most of the time, it is felt. almost always. because the energy around me shifts and the energy of the whole world shifts when that sort of love is shot out.


So what i’ve been grappling with is this… how is it i can feel so lonely but feel so connected?  am i waiting for crises to happen to get that connection?

also, it makes it a little bit difficult with the number of people coming in and out of my life as i date. mostly, i will only date them if i feel this love… and i grow this love like the best green-thumbed organic farmer you’ve ever been jealous of…

its been hard to bump into people who don’t want this fierceness.  i fundamentally do not understand. its beyond, ‘well we’re not a good match’… i don’t mind that, at all, its true, so far, every single time… 🙂 however, the abiding, the glowing orb love is still there for me, i still would fill the room with my love for any of them. literally. and i don’t want that to change.

i just wonder about it. what is it?

my heart hurts a little.  physically, i mean.

i think with the mud feeling comes resentment, which is always a lie, i think.  but while i am being lied to, i wonder where i am in this energy surge. . .

its like a cost-benefit analysis, oddly enough.  i’ve just marie kondo’d my bedroom and there is a shit-ton of clothing that is out of my life, and old pillows, jewelry and blankets. gone. i mean, so much so i struggled to lift the contractor bag i filled . and the three or four others… and i’m not feeling the lift yet.  i ‘m not feeling the ringing of the bells, just the flat affect of a person who now only owns three pair of pants and two leggings and a lot, a lot of skirts. so whats the cost? a day of work, an hour of dropping off.  the benefit? mm. um… huh. i did feel glad that someone is going to be completely psyched to see some of my pants on the rack.  i did feel that postponed joy…

huh. so this. all this. i’m wondering. and feeling like mud.  while surrounded by you lovely orbs.


and if you are thinking, o, its so nice that she loves all her people, i say this to you in all sincerity… nope… its you. its you, too.  you get it, you freaking worthy glow-y orb.