Of love and updates.

Well. It happened. I met someone wonderful and complicated. Beautiful and flawed. Open and reserved. He is everything I never knew I wanted, what I did and didn't imagine or expect. He makes me want to be awake while alive.

How I managed to live 41 years without really feeling anything I will never know. It's been a year since we met online and just under since the first time we stood before each other. I'm. in. love. This may be my first time. It's exhilaratingly scary and I just can't stop myself.

Chained

To myself, to the scared, witless being I've become. To a comfot zone, even though it is cold and empty. I'm chained to the past. To the status quo. To being right, even if alone.

I'm chained to your memory. To the eyes that saw only the good in me, the beauty in me, the love in me.

Friend and Foe

I had this friend when I was a little girl. She was my bestest friend ever. Then, as 8 year-olds often do, we had a fight. Don't ask me what it was about. We just did. We didn't talk for a long time. As an only child, losing friends was always tough, but I remember telling myself that it was her loss, not mine. That if she didn't want to be my friend, I was better off without her. Maybe I was, but sure didn't feel like it.

I committed a grave sin. I went against my own beliefs, violated oaths I held pretty close to sacred. I mixed business with friendship. I ignored the voice that said 'Caution' 'Trouble Ahead' and instead, opted to go out on a limb. Prove to myself that it doesn't always have to spell out disaster. Joke's on me.

I had this friend when I wasn't such a little girl. She was a terrific friend. Then we had a fight. No, we didn't even get to the fight, but I had a hand in firing her. I couldn't provide explanations beforehand, I wasn't given a choice to provide them afterwards. I was written off, as friends often are. Her loss? For sure. But mine as well.

Goodbye dear friend. I bid you peace, and love, and only good things.

About this shot: Massive rock along Highway 1 ~ Portland, OR

Things in my head

There are things going on with me, rather, around me, right now. I don't like it. I don't want it. It's driving me nuts. Growing up sucks. Sucks rocks. Blows too. Not in a good way. Isn't it terrible to find yourself in an impossible situation, to rationally understand why it is working out the way it is, and yet just hate everything about it.

Doing the right or appropriate thing isn't easy.

About this shot: Picasso sculpture outside Daley Center ~ Chicago, IL

I'm a big kid now.

Like it or not, accept it or ignore it, I'm all 'grewed' up. I am now forty-something. I have a mortgage payment (yay me!), I have a career path, and I'm even doing the occasional corporate dance.

I guess I should bring you up to speed, proper-like. My doggy is back with me, so it's party of 2 at Maison Frenchie. Cinnamon is now 11 years old, grumpy and farty as hell but I love her like crazy.

I've been working for the same department for almost 5 years now and I love it. I am wearing a dual hat, helping people keep the peace while promoting the awesomeness of my group. This year promises to be a real challenge as I spearhead a project to offer our services throughout Latin America.

My BFF now lives in Brazil--luckily, we have offices there and Brazil is one of our main interests.

I just bought a little condo, right after Thanksgiving, and I'm fixing it up, making it all mine. Loving that too. Neighbors from hell upstairs, but that too shall pass.

Still single, trying to talk myself into opening up to the possibilities of love, but still too scared to make myself that vulnerable.

Other than the above, I'm looking forward to living a full life...

About this shot: She's back! The love of my life. Cinnamon Rolls

It's official. I've got no staying power.

Yes, this is the place where I'm supposed to record my thoughts, yet, from the looks of it, I have thoughts on a quarterly basis. You've read my other posts, you KNOW I've got issues and I can't afford therapist bills (because of my damn shoe fetish), so you'd think I'd write more often.

I. Suck. Rocks. I would say I'll do better, but, I hate disappointing myself.

That's all there is to it.

About this shot: Along Pacific Highway (1), somewhere outside San Francisco, CA.

What's up with me?

I'm not sure if it's pride, stubbornness, independence, what? I've become a fairly good problem solver, and when unable to solve my problems, I'm really good at ignoring them, pretending they don't exist. But I SUCK at asking for help, any kind of help, from anyone. Not sure why.

Sometimes, I think I just don't want people in my life to know I can't do it all or do it all well. Part of it, I think has to do with depending on someone else, which makes no sense because I didn't grow up around undependable people. I suppose my mom and dad are both self-sufficient too, at least until a few years ago. Even as my mother battled cancer, underwent a mastectomy, chemo, radiation and all that fun, she was still more reliable than those around her. We counted on her to get us through it, and she did. She's my hero.

Somewhere along the line, I've become this person who is so reluctant to let people in, I wasn't this way before. I guess too many bad experiences have left a bad taste in my mouth. I just mentioned to a friend that I will probably never find someone to share my life with, because I refuse to make myself vulnerable and I'm OK with that. How fucked up is that? I think Freud would say VERY.

About this shot: Tall & Beautiful ~ Unknown tree, San Francisco