It's your narrative, use it well.

Another lovely Hax perspective on love and life.  In this case, the letter write was having difficulty coming to grips with the ending ambiguity of a relationship.  Blame? Responsibility?  Shortcomings?  (Dis)Honesty? But no, we are mere mortals just trying to get to the end of the day.  Here's what she said.  So wise...

"Here’s the narrative I suggest to replace it: You’re just two people who tried to make your unique combination of strengths, weaknesses, insecurities, histories and hopes fit together — and in the end, they didn’t."

And another great 'toon from Nick...where has he been all my life?

Me & Demi Moore

Good grief.  I don't really give a crap about Demi Moore, or her divorce from the young and restless Ashton, or her astonishingly skinny body, but I stumbled upon this quote on the Web today and I felt tremendously sad for her.

"What scares me is that I'm going to ultimately find out at the end of my life that I'm really not lovable, that I'm not worthy of being loved. That there's something fundamentally wrong with me...and that I wasn't wanted here in the first place."

My dear, I (still) (sometimes) have a long way to go - and I'm certainly not rich or glamourous or famous - but I do know for sure, it starts with self-love.

City Love

Over the weekend, Dear Daughter and I biked our neighborhood for the Renovator's House Tour.  We hit 5 of the 8 homes on view, and she was one to point out to me this lovely green mural in view of the back yard of one of the homes.  So sweet.  I love this pic - especially the color blocks that come from the lines of the telephone wires, the wall color, the small white-framed window, the charming heart-shaped foliage, and the clear blue sky of a gorgeous fall day.

The Renovator's House Tour features homes that have been creatively renovated and restored in our historic urban village. The thing I love about this particular tour is that it often showcases how families can make a go of city living, and how small spaces can be transformed in big ways by using space in efficient and innovative ways, and making rooms multi-functional.  Even more impressive, the tour is open to the public, and raises $20,000 for the local public school.

Nice life. 

New York for Marriage Equality

A Marriage Equality vote is going to the State Senate soon - likely next week - as they try to catch up with DC's enlightened ways.  It's close, but it looks like it's just one vote away from passing, and that Senator remains undecided.  And in getting to that threshold, recently, Republican State Senator, Roy McDonald crossed party lines to state he planned to vote for it.   He was quoted as saying:

"You get to the point where you evolve in your life where everything isn't black and white, good and bad, and you try to do the right thing.

"You might not like that. You might be very cynical about that. Well, f**k it, I don't care what you think. I'm trying to do the right thing."  

Way to go, Mc Donald.  Here's to evolving.  Her's to not seeing life in black and white.  Here's to doing the right thing.  And while, I'm at it, here's to TMZ.com, the celebrity gossip site for covering it and standing on the side of love.

2010: Year in Review, Part 3 Dear Daughter and other Loved Ones

Dear Daughter Seriously, I sometimes think I think my wonderful, thoughtful, giving, deeply insightful, kind, innocent six year-old daughter doesn't deserves a mother as flawed as I am.  I am in awe of her miraculousness.  I'm not the most maternal of women.  I would not be mistaken for a martyr.  I do not have infinite patience, endless capacity (or even desire), to nurture, boundless energy, and constant cheer.  I savor and pursue my adult life, sometimes at her expense.  I'm far from a helicopter mom or even a doting one.  My fuse can be short; my attention divided.  I sometimes half-jokingly refer to my mothering as "benevolent neglect" - that I hope will foster independence, scrappiness, and a provide a good adult women role model.  Despite my "bad mom" persona, I do make sure she always knows she is loved, safe, and secure. So far, so good...knock wood.

Quite honestly - between you and me -

2010: Year in Review, Part 2 - Men, Love , Sex and Ex

Life's Big Buckets in 2010, part 2 of three - This part is a Biggie - bigger than it should be, I'd think.  But what is Life without  Love?

Men, Sex, and Love - Or some combination thereof...sometimes.  The biggest trial of all.  As usual.  My half-full glass and pragmatic romantic view prevails.  It was a good year.  There was progress, there were setbacks; but more progress than setbacks.

As we entered 2010, I was enjoying a romantic interlude with Hiking Viking.  We seemed to be navigating our complexities and individual needs, desires, and directions well.  We were even growing closer and more emotionally intimate with whispers of sweet nothings and love.  Perhaps this was the harbinger - we really didn't belong in that territory, as lovely as it was - because CRASH!- BANG! -BOOM! we had some deep uglies suddenly and immediately afterward.  Uglies that left me reeling and confused, though in hindsight, it was more likely a necessary course correction.  We managed a bit more in a gentle, kind, supportive friendship - two people who seemed to get each other...with benefits.  But nice, and even right, as this was, it was  not safe or comfortable territory for me.  I tried to feel my way around this zone...but CRASH! BANG!  BOOM! in one of these (perhaps misguided)  conversations, I encountered anger, blame, vitriol - hurling accusations and spewing resentment - and our friendship was mutually declared over.  I have never in my life declared a friendship over - I've grown apart (sometimes intentionally); I've created space;  I've lost time and priority in friendships that had mutually served its purpose.  But I have never actively severed a friendship.  It left me reeling and destabilized again.  Another area, as the year closes, where I have found myself destabilized and second-guessing myself, and my mojo shaken.  Enough bandwidth...onward and upward.

Vegitect is a big character in this year's screen play.  Springtime, and all is possible.  New, green design gigs and newfound legs underneath himself made him ripe for romance when we met.  Here is an awesome man....witty, sexy, creative, handsome, and international.  :-) We found ourselves and each other in shared a passion for creativity in its infinite forms, and in our individual resilience always manifesting from the core.  Our compatibility and chemistry was notable.  I sometimes long for the promise of April - venturing to Paris with friends, and getting sweet, funny international text messages on l'autobus and brilliant sketched postcards for my birthday. But I feared... no, I knew... that he was not ready for involvement, and I told him as much, while I carefully skirted emotional attachment. Hell, I was so fuckin' prescient, I even wrote into My Main Gal Hax about the issue on an online discussions in June, that was later published in the Washington Post in September.  And prescient indeed... timing and time is important.  And as time passed, the messiness and acrimony of his divorce became more apparent, and the reality of throwing his dreams, drive and financial stake into a start-up in a crap economy became all-consuming.  It was a shit-storm in which I could not get sucked into the vortex, nor toss the life ring from the edge.  I have had my own shit-storm, and as recently emergent, I can say that life's personal shit-storms are best weathered independently.  But here and now, Dear Vegitect, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your wit; your bizarre and endearing sense of irony; for sitting on my porch on early summer evenings talking with a bottle of chilled Spanish Cava or with sparklers in hand; for your photos, sketches, and sexy texts; for a well-planned mystery picnic; for teaching me the secrets of a perfectly fragrant and delicious daal; for the flowers; and for your continued friendship.  XO.

And while a few other minor characters made cameo appearances as love interests - one in particular that was not to be - it was a most of all a year of love and learning. And my learning has essentially led me to believe that it is timing that is mostly determinant, and that it takes time to see if love will stick among the competing vicissitudes.  And for the moment, I'm taking a chosen break, but surely not forever.

Irony  This was the year that I learned that Dear ex-Husband re-married.  I learned it on Facebook.  Two years after the fact.  This may well be my most mortifying and humbling moment.  I was enraged!  Anger and fury that I rarely feel, let alone express...but I did both to the fullest.  It felt amazing. But I know the source of my anger is also my disappointment, my sense of betrayal, and my sadness.  He and his wife are now expecting a baby any week now. And Dear Daughter suffers at the hands of an evil stepmother - it is not a cliche; she is a character study of immaturity, insecurity and passive-aggression. And Dear ex-Husband continues to make bad decisions that only spiral him downward, and his charm cannot save him anymore.  And the only good thing to come out of all his 2010 shenanigans is that I am freed of the horrible guilt and self-flaggelation for our failed marriage that I inflicted upon myself daily .    Did I make mistakes?  Yes.  Will I do things differently with my next partner/husband from the insight I have gained into (un)healthy, (dys)functional love and partnership?  Indeed, I fervently hope so.   Do I share the responsibility for our failure?  I do.  But I no longer blame myself.  There is nothing I could have done differently to save our marriage - as much as I tried and wished.  His latest antics are only proof that he could not and did not show up.  Not for me, and sadly, these days I worry, not even for himself.  And with all his hooey, I'm clearly, markedly, definitively better off without him.

2010: Year in Review, Part 1 - Work and Wealth

Overall, I'd declare this year Good overall, but most notably a year of Improvement and Progress.  :-)  For once, "most improved"doesn't feel like a consolation prize, but a hard-won, much-cherished feat.  The series of tragedies and bad news of years past have ebbed.  It was a welcome reprieve, and interestingly I noticed and appreciated the absence of constant losses and unheavals.  How often do we notice and appreciate that "nothing bad is happening" and therefore I am grateful?  Of course, I am grateful for the many good fortunes in my life this past year, and humbled by the setbacks.  Rather than a chronological review, this year I will examine Life's Big Buckets, and how each one fared.  This is a blog post in three parts (and some parts are a work in progress, as I continue to edit bit by bit).

Work - My job is demanding and stressful. At times, it can totally suck the life out of me.  For the better part of this year however, it sustained me and fulfilled me.  My boss, our CEO, announced her planned departure for early 2011, and this had some wonderful outcomes.  It was a great relief to know that a huge stressing, anxiety-producer will be releasing its grip.  Also, perhaps her own knowledge of her transition took some burden off her as well, because our relationship eased and became more trusting and respectful (for the most part).  Also, my ego was boosted, as both several members of our board and our funders saw me as a viable candidate to take on her role....but I am both smart and sane, and announced I would not be applying.  It was terrific to have the best of all worlds - good enough to do it, smart enough not to!

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Dear daughter and I were having an early morning conversation today while snuggling in bed before facing the day.  Lights still out, shades still drawn, talking in soft voices - a wonderful moment that I hope to preserve in my heart because she is growing so fast (It's not a cliche, I swear!).  We were talking about what she wants to be when she grows up:

Dear Daughter: "If I can't be a rock star, I want to be a fashion model. If I can't be a fashion model, I want to be a detective. If I can't be a detective, I want to be a hair stylist."
Mama: "How about a teacher?
DD: "Yeah, if not a hair stylist, then a teacher."
Mama: "How about president of [my Non-Profit Organization]?
DD: "No, by the time I'm working you'll be retired."
M: "How about President of the United States?"
DD: "No, too hard."
M: "How about a judge?"
DD: "No because if my friends were having a challenge, and I liked them all, I couldn't decide."
M: "How about a doctor? Or a nurse?"
DD: "I don't want to see naked children," she says with a grossed-out look on her face in the dim light.
M: "How about a scientist?"
DD: "No, that's not me. I like fancy stuff."

She is nothing, if not a marvel.  She knows herself, and I can't say I disagree with her assessments.  I will love watching her grow up.

Sex Bomb, Mom, and Senior Strategist

Work has been intense lately.  A good intense, I guess, as I'm working on stuff that really excites me.  But also draining.  I have very little energy left each day to write or laugh.  Or do other things that make me a healthy, happy me.  On days like this, I long for simplicity.  I long for an end to the requests and demands.  A day of quiet.  A day of solitude.  A day without worries.

I took a swim this morning, as part of the Sanity Plan.  I've had so little time for this critical activity that keeps my stress down, my thoughts worked through and put away.  It worked.  I left for work this morning with energy and sass.  I bounded up escalator steps.  What?!?!  Bounded?!?  Up??!?! The escalator?  To go to work?

My energy lasted until around noon, and then the day wore me down in the way it has these last few weeks.  By the end of the day, I was frayed.  Tightly wound.  Completely wrung-out.

And now, I'm still frayed.  And tired.  And not just physically tired.  Or mentally tired.  But tired of this stupid treadmill.  Burned out from the slog.  Tired, perhaps, of being all things to all people.  Sex Bomb, Mom & Senior Strategist.  Tired of taking care of everyone.  I try to take care of myself - and sometimes I succeed, but lately, it's been hard (Bummer, for real.  I was getting so good at it!)

And sometimes, I want someone else to take care of it all.  Or at least just share the load.  And every once in a while take care of me...."Honey, what do you need?"  Or better yet, "I did this for you."  And I want to cry (like I am now) and lean in, lean against him and just sob for a few minutes.  "I'm tired," I'd say.  "It's not that easy."

Blech...

I feel like crap.  Sometimes this happens to me.  It can happen at anytime, but it often happens as August, and more so late August, hits.  I think the lack of structure and routines get to me, too.  Dear Daughter is out of school, and we're trying to fill her days.  And work does not let up.  For all my talk of lemonade, ice cream, carefree days at the beach, baseball games, grilling, and gin & tonics - it does not overcome the heat, humidity, the unannounced storms (and floods), the bugs (and the bug bites), the sweat, the sun damage to my protesting fair skin, and the general malaise I get as summer drags on and on and on.  And on.  So by this time of year, I'm just over it.  Done.  Thank you very much.

Maybe I'd like summer more if I spent a long stretch in a cabin, on a lake, sitting on the porch, reading, writing, cooking, going for a swim - two, three, four times a day...to the floating dock about 100 meters offshore.   And skinny dipping at night, floating on my back looking at the sea of stars above, picking out a constellation or two.  

I had a summer like that.   Two summers, in fact - on Lake Spitfire in the Adirondacks.  Skinny dippin', constellation pickin',  floatin' dock and all.  I was a teenager - sixteen and seventeen years old, joining a family I used to babysit for.    My teenage boyfriend and I wrote long love missives to each other lamenting the weeks apart, and making heated plans for a torrid reunion in the fall..  The memories are vivid - over twenty years later.  There was no access by car - only boat, and I had access to the Boston Whaler to get from our cabins to the main dock through the channel over to Upper St. Regis.  I suppose there were bugs there - but I don't remember them.  I do know as summer went on, it was cool enough to light a fire in the fireplace at night.  And on my late summer swims, I nearly froze my ass off - but skinny-dipped anyway - shivering - because I knew that summer nights were drawing to a close.   I love swimming, and I love skinny dipping even more (and just wish there were more real opportunities to do so).

I think these were the best summers of my life.  Or at least when I want to conjure up an image of peace, tranquillity, contentment  - my perfect place - I think of there and then, or even There and Now.

I [HEART] my new iPhone!

I never thought a phone could make me so happy.  Seriously, after waiting for almost two years to indulge in an iPhone, my iPhone 4 arrived on Tuesday.  At first, I was scared - what if I was disappointed?  What if the hype was just hype?  It is very expensive after all.  But after the first day of tentatively getting to know each other, I've gone from having a crush from afar to full fledged love AND lust.

I was a tiny bit disappointed by the look of the upgrade. They say it's smaller and slimmer than the previous iPhone, but I find it's edges a bit hard, sharp, and well...edgy.  Its predecessor, the iPhone 3G, is smooth and rounded, like a river stone in your pocket (or purse), and I'd liked that zen sensibility.    But I am not that superficial, and nothing is perfect, so I have squinted my 40-ear old eyes a bit  for a more forgiving and softening focus, and you know what?,  it's really quite handsome.  In fact, so sexy that...

From my sub-conscious

Last night's dream involved a camping and barbecue party on a beach bluff with a summer cottage.  My dream boyfriend* was fishing for dinner from a nearby creek, and then prepared the whole fish beautifully with some seasoning for grilling, lovingly presenting it to me.  I smiled, touched by his generous efforts, but my softened heart also sunk for I knew something he did not know.  Amongst the many people in our group, my dream former boyfriend** was also there, and they were about to encounter each other.  We all did our best to act like nothing was up between or among any party in the love triangle, but everyone was extremely uncomfortable.

Alone, I skipped over some dunes to find a little beach cove, and saw a family of whales breaching in the open sea beyond. Later, I magically swam with two baby whales in the little intlet that opened out from our private beach. Back on the bluff, stars in the night sky, people had broken into small groups laughing and chatting in lowered voices  or lovers leaning one against the other whispering to each other and into the darkness.  I couldn't find dream boyfriend, and knew he had gone to heal himself.  Dream former boyfriend had left.  I felt both happy (content swimming and being outside on a beautiful evening, taking care of myself)  and horrible, because I knew I had contributed to hurt feelings and tension.  I knew, in fact, not only that dream former boyfriend would be there, but in fact, I had invited both men without sharing in advance what each was headed for.  The sub-conscious of my sub-conscious even knew that I had played the whole thing for my own ego, and to show each what he had or did not have.  I awoke from the dream feeling guilty, but aware, and knowing the way forward.

Later, I dozed again in the early hours of the morning, and fell back into the dream.  This time, I found dream boyfriend at his home, hurt and withdrawn.  I begged forgiveness, a genuine lump in my throat, tears in my eyes.  "I'm so sorry," I said, holding forth my arms for both comfort and forgiveness.  He hesitated, which I deserved, but then came towards me for which I was relieved and grateful, and knew I would not take for granted.  We kissed, and sighed.  I knew this is where I wanted to be.

* an amalgam of several men I've known and cared for
** no one I recognized

ETA - There were two parts of this dream that stood out for me.  First, the more obvious one of the relationship dynamics, my role in manipulating them, and the sincere realization, almost revelation, that that was not what I wanted to do.  The second very poignant element of the dream was the joy of being outside and keeping things in their most natural state - catching, seasoning and grilling fish, the bluff, the dunes, the screened in porch of a summer cottage, a light breeze, swimming alone in a small, private cove. Those things were especially vivid and salient, and brought me an almost extreme measure of contentment that very much carried throughout the dream.

I [HEART] Carolyn Hax

Another favorite columnist - this one from the Washington Post - Carolyn Hax is an advice columnist for Real Life.  Here is today's column on marriage - it's the counterargument to the marriage cynic, without being all rosy about it.

there are so many tictoc

Two good friends seem to be posting ee cummings poetry today on their social networking/self-expression sites of choice. There is a bomb scare outside my office window - the street is blocked off at the corner. So I think I'll turn to some poetry, too. Why not, no?

there are so many tictoc

there are so many tictoc
clocks everywhere telling people
what toctic time it is for
tictic instance five toc minutes toc
past six tic

Spring is not regulated and does
not get out of order nor do
its hands a little jerking move
over numbers slowly

we do not
wind it up it has no weights
springs wheels inside of
its slender self no indeed dear
nothing of the kind.

(So,when kiss Spring comes
we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss
lips because tic clocks toc don't make
a toctic difference
to kisskiss you and to
kiss me)

ee cummings

Love Locked: Passerelle de Léopold Sédar-Senghor

Hundreds (or more?) of padlocks line this pedestrian bridge across the Seine near the Musée d'Orsay.  The tradition is to go there with your sweet, make a promise to each other, lock the padlock to the bridge rail, and throw the key in the Seine.  Apparently the bridge does fill up however, and the locks are periodically cut off and thrown out by municipal workers of the Parti Anti-Romantiques (PAR).

Here is a link to other places to love lock around the world.

Leopold Sédar-Senghor (1906-2001), by the way, was the first President of Senegal.  He was also a poet.

Stand on the Side of Love (5)

Today a historic wedding took place at All Souls Church!

Stand on the Side of Love (4)

It may be cloudy, raining, damp, and cold, but...

Today is a beautiful day here in Washington, DC!

Blogging while intoxicated

The clucks have all left.  Dinner was delish.  I enjoyed cooking and hosting it, a moment when I'm happiest.   The carrot soup with orange essence and tarragon was quite scrumptious; the rest I would happily twiddle with.

Someone said I set the bar high when I brought out the Veuve Cliquot at dessert.  Not really, it felt good...and this bottle brought to me by Nan and Megan on my 39th b-day was especially good.  "I'll drink this, " I said, "for something to celebrate  in the next year."  [If you remember, dear reader (see year in review 2009), I was still crying a river of tears at that time, including at my b-day party surrounded by good friends, good people, good things, good food, when I briefly broke down for all that I faced and lived on that day.]  And while I have celebrated several good times and events since then, I chose to open the VC now, to celebrate with my good and lasting 12 cluck friends, for no and every reason, in particular:

- To good friends, laughter, cooking,
- To dedicating time to happiness,
- To the end of 2009 and the beginning of 2010 - where I wonder and marvel at what awaits, at what I do not yet know
-To finding a spiritual home, I didn't even know I was lacking,  at All Souls Church
- To the benefits and after effects of swimming - its peace, sanity and health
- To embracing my lusciousness, at long wonderful last
- To turning 40 in 2010, and while my life is not as glossy as at 30, it has, right now, a remarkable embrace that comes from being happy here and now, and to realizing that even my bittersweet happiness is somehow more fulfilling and meaningful having overcome so many trials, as when it was wide open and limitless
-To sex in all its marvelousness
- To having,  holding, giving, and getting love for however long it lasts

2009: The Year in Review (2)

[Dear reader, I’m writing my year in review chronologically, but if you are just arriving, you’re reading it in reverse chronological order. If you want to get the full picture, I recommend you scroll/jump down to the 1st entry.]

Summertime. I began to feel some stabilization. Life was now going to continue as it was, with Laz in the military; Grace in a good public school; reliable childcare; and work in autopilot. Many times, I felt my nerves frayed and my fuse short, but I was swimming twice a week, and that was doing wonders.

I began this swimming routine in 2009, specifically to clear my f-ing head, and it did do that. When I was at my wit’s end, a swim could clear the noise and set me straight. Ideally, I’d get this daily or 3-4x/week, but 2x/week was realistic, and I’m all about what’s “good enough,” not "ideal" these days.

2009: The Year in Review (1)

2009 was a year.  I can not be more understated.  As the year closes, I guess my conclusion would be that it was a flat - back to baseline; at best, achieving a small uptick.  But considering 2009 started deep in the negative, and continued that trend for a few months at least, that’s damn good news.

As the year began on the heels of a trying 2008, I put stock in the global sea change that I hoped would project on my own personal sphere of influence.  I was excited, thrilled even, at the reality of Barack Obama becoming President (and still am!).  It felt like a new beginning, and hopefully a turnaround that would translate into my personal life as well.  (Funny, how I (like many others) expected  for that to work out.)