My writings... and how I've found a new life-- not in the ashes of the old life-- but in eyes and hearts of new friends, new lovers and new places.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

old words.. new meanings..

Since exploring polyamory, I've discovered completely new meanings to old words..

Friend... The definition has expanded to include lovers who cease to be lovers, but remain friends...

Ummmm Friend is... a vague definition... used by my umm friend... when she wasn't sure if I wanted to admit to another person that I'm physically involved with another woman.  And I'm still unsure about how I feel about any of the labels that go along with the floaty, delightful feeling of kissing a woman.

Sleeping with... used to be a euphemism for sex with someone... Ironic, isn't it?  Generally when people are sleeping with someone, they aren't actually sleeping.  In th poly world... at least the one I'm in... Sleeping with.. means snuggling (not sweaty snuggles).. just common, innocent snuggles in a bed..

Then this weekend... a discussion and the phrase Jacob's Ladder came up... again, after a few sentences, I knew that my definition was out of sync with the conversation... so I asked. (because my netbook, aka my addiction wasn't up)  yep, not the Old Testament story that I remember.. and I thought Prince Albert was all I needed to know...

"Fluid bond" a year ago would have seemed like a car guy thing.. since they are fond of various fluids (trans fluid, windshield wiper fluid, motor oil, brake fluid, etc.)  and Bondo.  How odd that Bondo is on Urban dictionary... although it is very useful for .. body work..

Thanks to Urban Dictionary... I've learned a lot of new phrases... I just can't use them Monday through Friday afternoon. I'll add more later.. just wanted to play with the new vocabulary.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Another bit of writing without a home...

By the way, if anyone is keeping track... Today is my 29th anniversary... (I'd be out of prison by now..)  I've been divorced for 27.75 years..

For Christmas my mother sent a box of "my stuff that she found."  Included were several high school mementos... and my wedding invitation.  It's official... I don't feel anything about it.. Kinda wish I knew where my ex-husband is... so I could tell him.

As I realized Christmas night... They are just things, not good thing, not bad things, just things.

cause my mom included a bunch of funeral/memorial pamphlets-  from my dad's family.

and I got the 7th & 8th pictures of my grandfather... He died when dad was 14....so there weren't many photos.  I only saw 3 before dad died.  When going through dad's things, there were 3 more... that I had never seen.  In this box from mom... two more.. One developed a few months after he died... showing him & dad with a line of fish.  I look like him... I look like my dad..  They're both gone.  And I'm the same age my grandfather was when he died...

And because everyone should have a cry over my mom's Christmas gifts...  She included a box of matches from the Windows on the World restaurant... you know... the restaurant at the top of the World Trade Center.

They're just things.. they don't carry the emotional bullshit that they would have several years ago... Pretty amazing. I didn't realize that not feeling... was a step forward.

For many years I didn't cry.  Avoided feeling emotions... Later I learned to feel the sadness, and grief... I needed to work through those emotions.   Now I'm comfortable.. feeling joy and love.. I'm even letting people help me.. and trying to help others..

It's been an amazing journey... but this isn't the end...

Friday, December 24, 2010

My week, two very different beds

My week, two very different beds



My life is two very separate lives. During the week, I'm a responsible corporate drone. On weekends, I'm joyfully spending time with my couple. 

During the week, I spend a lot of time waiting. I am busy. However, a couple times a day, I pause and think about my other life... 

I wasn't sure I'd be able to sleep with anyone. No, not the sex part.. the actual slumber. I've slept alone... with an occasional visitor for most of my life. I've had the entire Queen bed to myself. I snore. I sleep fitfully, getting up several times during the night. 

So I was worried. Then I had a chance to sleep with someone (post sex)...and it worked.. I could sleep next to someone.. and my snoring wasn't as bad as his!! 

The next awkward moment was when a couple asked me to join them in bed... nothing sexual.. just sleeping together. 

I really didn't know what to say... I had decided that in this new life, I needed to accept invitations, and offers, and challenges. So I said yes... 

Now I sleep alone during the week, and cuddling on weekends. Last night alone. Tonight... a glorious three way cuddle. 

I never thought about the edge of the bed.. Apparently, it is a familiar landmark. I'm not comfortable in the middle. I feel like I'm crowding one person or another. Whereas, on the edge... I know where I lie. (lay? Darn you, Mrs. Carnahan -- my 8th grade Grammar teacher). 

Fortunately in our threesome, someone is comfortable in the middle. Sometimes I wonder how others handle this... Do they draw straws? Just pile into bed and wrestle for the middle? or do people tend to sleep in the same spot? 

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Overthinking presents.

For several years, I got my daughter's friends Bath & Body Works soaps.. in assorted scents.  I loved those soaps.  Small, easy to wrap, fun to give.

Then I found out that my daughter (and her friends) thought I was saying they were dirty.

I tend to overthink presents since then.  Is this too personal?  Too expensive? Too common?  Tonight I was shopping for several presents.  I needed 4 exact match presents for my co-workers.  No favoritism, and I didn't want the impersonal gift certificates.  (Generally I spend too much, and that's as bad as too little.)  With this group, I am going to be wrong. So I finally found a pair of items that hopefully will solve the problem... We'll see.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Deleted, undelivered messages

So I wrote a message to an old boyfriend... I "inherited" him from my best friend... who kept insisting he was perfect for me.  Eventually met him, spent a crazy week with him, going home only for clean clothes.  Now, decades later... He's there (and married) and I'm here (single, but quite involved).  and the Facebook message that didn't get sent read:
"I hope you (plural-- and Rebecca and your mother) are doing well.


Life here has become delightful and interesting.  I'm in love and haven't felt this way since I met you... heck... this is actually hotter and crazier than when I met you.  "


I guess that's why I'm thinking about you... Remembering the good times.  --- and hoping that you've found good times too. "


I can't send that message.  It says too much.. and not enough.. And worse, it could be read as a "come hither" by his wife. There were good times.  And my goal is to remember them-- not to recreate them... because there are different and better experiences out there for me.

 Lately, I've been hinting at too much in real life.  I need to wipe the smile off my face, and act normal... People aren't supposed to be this happy...

There's a fire door between my office and administration... and frequently, on my way through it, I'll jump and tap the door number (a small plate at the top of the frame).  Lately it seems I can just fly up there..... I've started tapping the wall above the plate.  I guess flying is easier when I'm happy.  Okay, maybe it is stronger legs...

Okay, that seems a silly thing to do... but I'm only 5'0" so it's the equivalent of a slam dunk.  And it allows me to connect with a bit of joy and silliness in the middle of a serious, boring day.  I'd tell you how wonderful my life is... but I'm not sure I believe it right now.  Each conversation reveals new and interesting nuances of caring and happiness.  And while I focus on work during the week, I find time for some fun...

There are many deleted, undelivered messages.  Most are best unsaid...

Sunday, December 5, 2010

There's a snore coming from the bedroom..

I'm sitting in the living room, typing. In the next room, I hear a contented snore. I think about last night, and yesterday.

Have I mentioned how amazing my life is? Last night we went to see Forbidden Broadway. The show required a working knowledge of Broadway for the past 30 years. (Okay, has Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum been revived lately? Maybe only the past 3 years- or current shows... ) Many insider jokes... about producers who love the souvenirs of Broadway shows.. the electronic manipulation of voices for shows.. and the Disney proliferation on Broadway...

My companions were also familiar with the shows... so part of the joy was seeing the delight on their faces as the lyrics veered away from the standard. Afterward, we rattled through our favorite shows and favorite theater stories. I was reminded of many plays I've enjoyed. Although none as much as the shows from high school, when I had no experience but plenty of time.

Fiddler on the Roof was my senior musical... Same with one of my companions... She was sharing the practical jokes from her production, and I remembered the wet bed from the dream sequence... Val's nightgown was soaked, fortunately, she could stay in bed... Jeff was fighting to say in character.. since he was trying to stay out of the wet spot. Ah... and I had no idea that wet spot actually meant...anything. Ah... so young, so naive.

Hair was another common show. We chatted about our experiences with the show, and I had a rush of emotions... remembering the productions, my companions for the productions, and the life I lived at the time.

There are many wonderful plays coming to the area this year.. I've got the disposable income to support the arts. And selfishly, I want to make new memories... of new shows and new companions.