Posts Tagged ‘Charlie Brown’

Hell Hath No Fury

May 27, 2015

Like a woman scorned.

And don’t I know it.

I had lots of things to  say tonight, lots of words, lots of engaging things that would lead me to make an amends to a certain person at some point.

What’s the point?

Self-righteous anger does not serve me.

Nor does taking anyone else’s inventory.

It’s always myself I have to look at, what’s might part?

I was a big old Charlie Brown.

I went for the Lucy, the ball got swiped, and I’m assed out looking at the sky.

Wait.

Didn’t I just go through this?

What the fuck?

Oh.

I responded.

I started back down that road again, I did.

No one else compelled me to revisit it.

I was riding my bicycle home through the gloaming, the park darkening quickly, the few joggers out with their headlamps on, a handful of hardcore frisbee golf kids hanging out around the first tee on the disc golf course, but mostly, just me, the wind, the chill, the thoughts in my head, and the sky above.

I was thinking about how I am the better person and how and what and when and this and that.

And whoa.

Slow down.

There is not a better person, there is his experience, and there is my experience and I have come out of the experience a better woman.

Not better than another.

I am not the better person, I am just.

A better person.

For having had the experience.

I realized as I was riding my bicycle a number of things that did not happen around the break up and how grateful I am for that, and how hard I worked to not let any of the following happen.

First and foremost, I didn’t drink.  I didn’t pick up a drug.  I did not start smoking again.  I did not do any kind of crazy risky behaviors that would land me in the hospital, I did not have a bunch of crazy wild one night stands.

Oh.

And I didn’t eat eighteen boxes of donuts and twenty-two pints of Hagen Daaz icecream.

I had all the feels.

ALL of them.

I wrote about them.

I inventoried those little fuckers.

I did work.

I discovered that I don’t like it when I lose my voice in a relationship, I don’t like being on a pedestal, I learned about how I want to date in the future, I learned about what I want from a partner I learned more about how I need to communicate with people in my life and with myself.

I deepened my spiritual life.

I renewed my vigor and commitment to doing my blog.

I tried some online dating.

I tried asking some guys out.

I tried not doing anything.

I paused when it was applicable.

I took action when it was applicable.

I resolutely turned my attention to others and their needs.

I didn’t check out.

And I am not about to act like the scorned woman now.

No.

I have some honor.

And the still quiet voice of a friend in my head.

I was riding past Lindley Meadows thinking about what it will look like when I get married.

Yes.

I went there.

Decorating out the park.

Where the lights would go.

Who I would invite.

Pure fantasy landia.

However.

It had been supplanted with an honest share from an uncomfortable chair that after the last time I did work around a sexual ideal what I really wanted was this: a sober, non-smoking, heterosexual, monogamous, spiritual, fully self-supporting, creative, sexy, passionate, kind, healthful, man.

Who I want to be married to.

The dirty secret is out.

I don’t need children.

But I want a marriage.

Old fashioned.

Strange to think about in this day in age.

But there it was, right at the heart of it.

And then when I reviewed my ideal, knowing, without having to be told, I have achieved al those things in my life.

I am sober.

I am monogamous.

I am heterosexual.

I am creative.

I am financially self-supporting.

I am sexy.

I am passionate.

I am spiritual.

I am enough.

Fuck.

I am more than enough.

Worthy of love and lovable.

So when I got the text, oh I almost wrote something else there, ah, restraint of pen and tongue, restraint of pen and tongue and blog, saying, in a nutshell, meeting up is not a good idea.

I just responded.

Yes.

I agree.

Deleted message from said ex.

I had already deleted his number and the Facebook and social media channels are clear.

I didn’t say anything else.

There was nothing left to say.

I did feel like, for a moment, it passed, that I had the break up twice, but with none of the fun stuff like having sex one more time or dramatic frothy emotional appeals in public.

Not that I need to have those things to know when to let go.

Baby won’t you let me go.

Let me go.

Let me go.

Let me go.

Baby, won’t you let me go.

There was a bit more to the text, but it’s not my place to pick apart here.

That voice I heard.

My friend’s voice.

Drifts back into my head, just like it did on my bike ride home.

And then I breathe and recall the sun on my face, we were at the beach, sitting and watching the waves, it was just a few weeks before I started seeing the ex and my friend said with complete candor, “oh, I could never date a woman who blogs, what if something happens?  All my foibles out on the web for anyone to see, I just couldn’t do that.”

And I knew.

I can’t write about the ex.

I can only write about myself.

My process.

My feelings.

My inventory.

The feeling now is.

It is definitely over and I won’t be seeing him any time soon.  No texting, no flirty messages on Facebook, nothing.

Moving on.

Letting go.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And then.

Just a little more for good measure.

Because I want an open heart and open arms for the wonderful person who wants to be with me, the me I am, with openness and candor and authenticity.

I won’t be distracted again.

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I’m Glad Your Posting Again

December 23, 2014

He said to me this evening as we exchanged a quick hug before I bounced to catch the N-Judah home.

Yeah, not my bicycle, but the MUNI.

Flat tire today.

I was able to pump it up this morning and it held air to get me to, work, but by the time I was done with work again it was soft and suspect I need either a new tube, as the valve might be leaky, or I need a new tire.

Either way I am covered.

And very fortunate that my bike shop is just blocks away from where I work.

I dropped it off at the shop and then high tailed it in a cab to the Inner Sunset.

I got my God on and hit the MUNI home.

Tomorrow I’ll be taking a car into work, I don’t like how often I have had to take Uber and Lyft and cabs this past week and a half, but between the rain, the flat tire, and it just being that way, I will live.

“White girl problems,” he said to me as I complained that the new teas at Starbucks sucked and they didn’t carry any decent tea.

Yeah, that’s pretty much what I have today.

Which isn’t to say that I won’t get my panties in a twist when something small arises, so I gratefully hopped in the cab and I will gratefully take a car into work tomorrow.

Which also happens to be my Friday.

Oh yeah.

I have a five-day weekend.

I shall be kicking it off by getting picked up by my boyfriend from work and heading straight to the symphony to watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special accompanied by the San Francisco Symphony playing the score by Vince Guaraldi.

I don’t know what I will be doing exactly for Christmas Eve or Christmas or the days thereafter.

I did mention to my guy that I wanted to go down to Big Sur and see the monarch migration, but he’s been sick and is just now after five days of being in it, coming back to a state of normalcy.

I find it too difficult to ask for anything from anyone who is sick, let alone the boyfriend.

I figure we’ll roll with whatever happens.

He actually has standing plans to be elsewhere Christmas morning, so I’ll have that free too.

Sleeping in is about all I think Santa is going to be leaving under my tree.

My tree!

I forgot I had gotten my tree yesterday and was warmly surprised and delighted when I opened the door to my studio and there my little Charlie Brown tree was draped in lights and ornaments.

I plugged in the lights and smiled.

I do so like Christmas time.

I also finished wrapping up presents.

I picked up some things for the boys that I care for today—vintage newspaper boat hats, googley eyed “monster” putty packs, and one brand new wooden racecar for each of them.

I joked with the clerk in the store that I was using my Christmas bonus to buy toys for the boys I care for.

And so the love goes around.

I got a bonus for Christmas and that was such a lovely thing.

I wasn’t surprised per se, I expected that I would get one, but I wasn’t expecting it to be a whole weeks pay, before taxes.

Thank you Santa.

Serious.

I paid off my student loan a few weeks early, threw some in savings, bought some nice food to have around the house and am thinking I may splurge on a New Year’s Eve frock.

As well as paying for the application fee to the graduate school I will be applying to this weekend.

Yes.

That’s right, it’s time to get that going and on track.

I will have time to work on it and I can’t think of a better Christmas present to give myself than a future.

I had a few doubts over the past few days in regards to the school and the direction and am I doing the right thing, but as they say, “willingness without action is fantasy.”

I have to take the action and move forward.

If it’s not meant to be, then that will be made very apparent, but if it’s meant to be I have to do the work.

I can be willing to change and be better, but until I actually take a different action then its just masturbation and fantasy.

Gee, wouldn’t it be nice, if when my body falls apart from being a nanny for over eight years, I have another career I can segue into.

A career where I can be of love and service to the community about me.

Which is always my purpose anyhow.

For which I am handsomely and richly paid, but it is a different kind of service.

So, I will be taking some time to work on that and get it done.

“You don’t want to stop doing all the things that the person who is with you was attracted by, you’ll paradoxically lose that persons interest.”

Well spoken.

So, when I got the pat on the back for getting back in the blogging saddle, I knew it was the truth.

I still got to write.

I don’t suppose or hope or have expectations around my blogging or the morning pages that I do; rather, that I just need to do them.

I don’t have expectations any more about becoming a big, rich, famous writer.

Besides, I’m famous in my own mind.

I do, however, need to cultivate the artistic temperament in me, whatever that looks like in the moment, which is often the writing for me.

But it is also reading, which I haven’t done a lot of recently, and doing activities that inspire wonder and awe in me.

My partner, I have said often and loud, must compliment me, not complete me.

This means, I complete myself, take care of myself and nurture that art girl in me.

Maybe it’s time for an Artist Date as well.

I do have Christmas Eve day off.

So much life.

So much love.

So much gratitude.

Happy Holidays.

Home for the holidays.

Christmas in San Francisco continues.

 

 


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