sueeeus

Some might call it a momentary lapse of reason.  But I don’t.  My eyes are wide open.

love monkey

My family is staging an intervention to my ‘love addiction’.  My natural inclination is to bristle with indignation for being accused and placed on trial for, gasp, exhibiting delirium and showing joy.  Of course the look on my face isn’t something they’re used to seeing.  It’s called happiness.  Because I look like a deer who is caught in the headlights, does it mean that I am blind to my surroundings?  Because I’ve been thrilled by the prospects of love at other times in my life, and ventured forth in hopes that it was indeed truth, only to learn that I was once again mistaken, does it mean that I am incapable of discerning anything?  Am I not allowed to make mistakes and learn from them?  Good Lord in heaven above, I put myself through more than enough condemnation for the mistakes I’ve made.  More than enough.  I hold myself to an extremely high standard, and of course I continue to fall short.  Yet I strive, strive, and strive some more to be better, see more clearly, be more wise, be more patient.

I understand their concern, and I stifle my inclination to be angry and hurt for the accusations put forth.  They love me.  Who can possibly ever measure up to be good enough for me?  After all, nobody ever has.  They’re protective, and I understand that.

I took the quiz.  I’m not a love addict.

In the nearly two years since I’ve been divorced, I’ve learned much.  My marriage was a legal agreement and a place of desolation.  The air that we breathed was stifling.  The space in which we moved was thick with tension.  There was no joy, no freedom, no peace, no comfort, no communication, no sharing, no meeting of the minds, no blending of the hearts.  No love.  It was an abyss, and I’m grateful to have had the strength and courage to make it end.

Of course I effervesced in the thrill of new love, when new love is what I thought I had found.  And during that rebound I found that I had compromised myself and my children, to my utmost horror.  Retrospectively, I understand that the thrill of new love was indeed the rush of infatuation, and not love at all.  I learned from that experience.  Truly.

The next time I allowed myself to get involved, the circumstances seemed different.  Two single parents, wanting the best for their child(ren) and wanting a long term, loving, committed relationship.  Again, the thrill of the prospect of happily ever after.  Again, like oil and vinegar briefly mix, it was quickly evident that there was no possible way of amalgamating our lives.

Am I an addict because in my heart of hearts and for all of my life, what I’ve wanted most was to settle down, entrust all of me with one and only one man who entrusts all of himself to me and only me,  and be a whole and loving family?  Must I forfeit that dream, because I failed the marriage that I had?  Do I only get one chance, and that chance is spent because I have children?  Of course I need to protect and shield my children.  Of course I need to edify them, and keep them safe, secure, healthy, and sound.  I am.  I do.

Why is it a character flaw for me to want to love and be loved?

I’m in love, and I want to shout it from the mountaintops!  Am I infatuated?  Of course.  Am I delirious?  Maybe.  Am I blind?  No.

Love that is real bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  Love, in truth, does not fail.

Does. Not. Fail.

I’m all in.

taking a chance on love

Just this morning I was thinking of you.  Just the other day I was telling a friend about you and your boat.  And now, I learn that you passed away in the night.

Pete's Boat

RIP, Pete.  You shared wondrous stories of holocaust and survival, and there you were, always with a smile on your face and a twinkle in your blue, blue eyes.  You were loved by many, and I hope you weren’t alone when you took your last breath.

Shipwreck Pete

I’m honored to be counted among your friends.

RIP.

He’s the guy who touches the sky. He hangs from cables and works his magic. People stop and stare.  The places he goes and the things he does — oh how he amazes me.   He thrills me!  He works so hard, and he’s so very good at what he does.  I respect that immeasurably.

up, up, up, so high in the sky

He sent me a text message the other day:  “I sprayed your name on the building two stories up.  Everyone can see your name in Pioneer Square, my love bug.”

And so he did.

Spiderman - ready for action

there's this girl...

my name, for all to see

It makes me think, betcha by golly wow — you’re the one that I’ve been dreaming of forever.

And so he is.

There’s something about this guy…  He has a heart of gold.  He is kind.  He is gentle.  He is good.  He smiles and the warmth of his presence lights up the room.  He is tall.  My head fits perfectly in that wonderful place between his shoulder and his neck.  His eyes are the most beautiful blue, and not only beautiful because they are blue, but beautiful because they are the windows to his soul.  He shines, this man.  He is smart.  He is more than competent.  He is confident and enthusiastic.  He is compassionate.  He is responsible.  He is fine and upstanding.  He is strong, mature, educated, thoughtful, playful, sensitive, wise, elegant, savvy, honest, healthy, trustworthy, fun, dependable, interesting, passionate, alive, affectionate, communicative, understanding, and patient.  In a word, excellent.

making music

He sings to me, for me, and with me. He makes my heart pound and takes my breath away.

brightly his light shines

He has a heart for me.
And I am so very blessed to be the woman of his dreams.

Spiderman.

He shines.

We click.

I’m feeling scattered again.  Oh, I don’t like to feel scattered!  I like to know the boundaries of my world, as they constitute my comfort zone.  The perimeter can be very extensive, but I so very much like to be aware of what the perimeter is.

I’ve been house hunting and man hunting — up to my internet mischief.  It’s exhausting!  Add to that the cold that is trying to catch me.  My throat is a battleground.

The house hunting is proving to be very similar to the internet dating experience.  I’ve been to view several houses lately, and what they look like in real life is a far cry from what they look like in their on-line photos.  Rooms look impressively spacious, only to find they are tiny cracker boxes.  Earlier this year I was intent on finding a home with a view, maximizing the tranquility of my sphere –proximity to work, neighborhood safety, proximity to my family, and a view of mountains and salt water were my top priorities.  Frustrated with that, I refocused on vacation properties.  I thought I could buy a weekend home with the view and tranquility, and remain in my current home for the day-to-day living.  I’ve since reconsidered matters again, now that my Brutus is in school, and raised the school ratings above the desire for a view.  It has come to my attention that we don’t live in a particularly good school region, so I would like my boys to have the benefit of better schools and the stability to grow up with the same set of people.  Better views and better schools come at a price, so a similar home to the one I have is far beyond my means.  While there are beautiful and affordable homes available the further one extends from the city, and there are pockets of better schools in the outlying regions, the commute and proximity to family are prohibitive.  I don’t want to add any further stress to the world in which I live, so I have to be mindful of the effects of a difficult commute.

Add to this the pursuit of togetherness.  If only I knew what I wanted, or what would work best for me.  I know much of what I don’t want, but to quantify what I want and what I’m capable of is very difficult.  So far, it’s been an iterative process that has consumed years of my life, because I don’t know how else to approach it.  The current mission statement that best describes what I  think I want is “a respectful, respectable alpha male sex machine who is okay with me having my way when it’s important to me“.  In a nutshell.  Ha!

Meeting men is easy enough (with the online venue).  Determining a definite ‘no’ is easy enough as well.  Encountering a possible ‘maybe’ is very, very rare, and if it happens, I don’t know what to do next, other than tread softly, try not to cast forth too many pearls, and hope to remain clear headed and open minded.  None of which I am particularly good at.  (Oh, how my dad would cringe at my split infinitives and dangling participles, were he alive and reading this.)

It’s all so hard for me!  I just want to be settled down.  To know where home is.  To know with whom my heart is safely entrusted.  I want a simple and beautiful life.  (Yes, I know, I know, I already have a simple and beautiful life.)

I had a dream last night in which I was getting away by myself, taking a long, fast-paced walk.  I was in the country or a hilly park, and I was moving quickly.  It might have been early morning or nearing dusk, or it may have just been an overcast day.  I passed a couple of men who were approaching a field, and they may have been on their way to go fishing.  I noticed a bear in the field.   A young grizzly.  I made sure to stay clear of it, and vaguely wondered how the men would fare, as their path was more in direct line with the bear.   I actually thought to call out to them, to warn them, but I thought that might do more harm than good, since it would alarm the bear.  I concluded that they would shortly discover the bear on their own, and would likely steer clear of it as well.  I hoped all would be well for all of them.

I thought it was strange to see a bear in such a place, but not completely unheard of, as I continued forward.  I was much more surprised to come upon three lions, hunkered in the grass.  One was a big male, with the full mane, and the other two were females.  Again, I steered clear, and tried not to catch their attention.  They showed no interest in me.

When I stumbled upon the rhinoceros, I thought to myself, this is a bit much.  I’m not in a zoo, so why on earth would there first be a bear, then lions, and now a rhino in this area???!  The rhino was running away, clambering out of a water hole and up the far bank, in a hurry.  So I wasn’t in any danger.  I suppose it might have been a hippo.  It was large and grey.  It was moving fast, and wanted to get away from me, whatever it was.

I rounded another bend and spied a tiger in the grass.  Only this time, the tiger spied me as well.  We locked gazes.  Oh crap, I thought.  What am I going to do now?  I continued, as nonchalantly as I could, keeping as wide a berth as possible.  I kept my eyes on the tiger, and he kept his eyes on me, but he didn’t pounce and he didn’t charge, but he looked like he could at any moment.  I didn’t have adrenalin coursing through me, and I wasn’t terrified, but I was concerned for my predicament, that could very easily end very badly.

I woke up, distraught, and heard myself narrate the dream out loud.  I don’t know who I thought I was speaking to, but for some reason, I felt like I had to give voice to the dream.

~*~*~*~*~

Now that I’m awake, a song from Les Mis comes to mind (I dreamed a dream).  “And the tigers come at night, with their voices soft as thunder.  As they tear your hope apart and they turn your dreams to shame.”

Interesting, only just now I realize the name of that song is “I dreamed a dream”.  It’s also interesting that neither the bear, the lions, nor the rhinoceros posed any threat.  The tiger was the only one to be wary of.

I shall have to ponder this more.  Perhaps I can map what the animals represent.

How can you possibly be three, my beautiful little boy?

my littlest big boy

How can I describe how you fill my life and fill my heart?  You have a vigor that thrills me — the way you are full on, whichever extreme it may be.  When you are happy, joy bursts from you in waves.  When you are angry, frenzy bursts from you in waves.  There is no middle ground.  You are raw emotion and raw energy.  You are unfettered and pure, and how I delight to see you experience either joy or rage, because you do it with such purity.  You are beautiful, my little one.

I love the way you demand that I snuggle with you.  I love the way you giggle and laugh and the way your eyes sparkle with mirth and mischief when you try to play tricks on me.  I love your sense of humor!

Already you have a keen sense of justice, and simply won’t have it if you think your brother is not behaving as he should.

I love the way you express yourself.  I love the way you say please, thank you, and you’re welcome.  And the way you remind me to say ‘Bless You’ when you sneeze.

I love the way you try to do everything that your big brother does.  I love your strong sense of independence.

You are bursting with life, my little man.  Oh, how I love you, with a love I never imagined possible.

Happy Birthday.  A very happy birthday to  you.

Roy Orbison’s Mystery Girl, long shadow, walking.  Lovely shape of arms and hands swaying, fifteen feet tall.  Long and lovely.

~*~*~

Out for a walk in an effort towards fitness.  Looking for ways to appreciate my physical self.  I find the shadow lovely.  It’s a start.

I have been working for the man for the better part of my life, now.  Twenty. Five. Years.  A quarter of a century.  Holy smokes!

For my constancy and dedication, there is great reward. Yes, the coveted parking pass.  Now I can park in a general parking spot, inside the gates.  This privilege is somewhat moot–  Or rather, lucky for me, my office is not in the gated campus and happens to have covered parking already.  I’ve been living the sweet life for decades!

But I have a dedicated parking pass, by golly.  Neener neener.

Yes, my company goes all out.  I get the pleasure of dining with the executives and sharing some highlights of my career.  My, oh my, am I ever looking forward to that.  What story will I share?

The time the VP introduced me as Mister Maximus?

The time the director told me that I couldn’t work in the field because there’s no telling when I might get married and have kids and leave the job after they’ve invested so much in my training and relocation etc etc etc?  (If I had been half smart, I’d have had a killer lawsuit.  But I’m just not that smart.  And I’m non-confrontational.  And if I’d had a crystal ball, I could have told him that I have a hostile womb and an uncooperative reproductive system and I just won’t be having little ones for another twenty years or so.)

I could talk about the time I went to Manchester, England as the lead on a technical assist team, much to the team’s chagrin, because having a woman around seemed to cramp their style.  When the cat’s away, the mice will play, and that time, the mice didn’t get to play (as much as they’d have liked to).

I could talk about the time I was training a new guy, and he fell asleep as I was talking to him.  I know, I’m riveting.

I could talk about my love triangle and probabilities – what are the odds that my ex-boyfriend would take an internship with my company prior to going off to grad school, and land a job in the very same group as my new boyfriend?  Further, that the Casanova coworker who trained me would also transfer to that very same group?  This group of twenty in a company of over one hundred thousand (at that time).  Awkward!

I could talk about my experience working on a tech assist with the Koreans, and how they ignored me and wouldn’t let me help for most of the night, until I finally was able to break through to them (or they just gave up or gave in).   I can be persistent– I’m part Korean too!  Actually, I shared with them that I am half Korean, and they shook their heads with disapproval and disbelief that I don’t know or speak any Korean.  Unthinkable!  One kind man took it upon himself to explain the Korean alphabet to me, and by the end of the evening, the technical crisis was resolved, the Korean alphabet was neatly written, and we  thanked each other and parted ways with smiles all around.

Maybe I’ll talk about the time I transferred to another organization against the advice of almost everybody I knew, bent over backwards to completely overhaul things and single handedly obliterated the entire backlog, only to be rewarded with a goose egg at the end of the year.  That was the time that I posted my salary chart publicly with a big red caption, “What’s wrong with this picture?” and wrote a lengthy impassioned email about [not] valuing employees, researched the entire management chain from my first level to the CEO, put them all on distribution and hit send.  Then thought, oh CRAP, I’m going to be fired.  Only a few middle managers made any comment.  I was just a voice crying in the wilderness.

I have no complaints.  The company has been good to me.  Unpleasant hiccups in the journey caused me to change paths here and there along the way, and ultimately propelled me to the sweet spot where I now earn my bread and butter.

I work with a fantastic bunch of people.  We have grown up and grown old together.  Marriages, divorces, births, graduations, retirements, joys, sorrows, tragedies, triumphs.  We  have been through so much together.

It has been a worthwhile twenty five years.

And to commemorate this fine moment?  I treated myself to some bling.  Yep.  The railroad watch.  Didn’t the railroad companies reward their employees in days of yore with a gold watch after a notable tenure?  My company wouldn’t do that for me –they already went all out with the parking pass– but I can do it for myself!  A whole bunch of teeny tiny diamonds and pretty dials and buttons that I’ll probably never use.   Form, fit and function.  The engineering trinity. It’s nice to know that it does have function to accompany its fine form and fit.  I like it.

say cheese - it's the railroad watch

Happy Anniversary to me!

Brutus, are you excited to go see your daddy for a whole week?

How long is a week?

A night and a day
..and a night and a day
….and a night and a day
……and a night and a day
……..and a night and a day
……….and a night and a day
…………and a night and a day

Mama? Will you cry when you drop us off?

I always cry when I drop you off, Sweetie Pie.

Mama?  Maybe you should go to the neighbor’s house or go to Valerie’s house or go to your friend’s house and hang out or do something fun when we’re gone so you won’t be so lonely.

Brutus, that is an excellent idea!!! [mother delightedly embraces child]

gentle brute

Ahhhhh, my little problem solver is showing a glimpse of maturity and consideration that makes me beam and tickles me pink.  I am rubbing off on him.  At least a little bit.  He is mine, this blonde haired blue eyed sweetheart of a boy.