I swear someone wrote a song about this in the ‘70s

August 16th, 2018, 9:02 AM by Goddess

It’s when you’re caught between two lovers that you see how different things can be.

Forget whether it’s better to be loved or feared. My question is do I want to have someone who desires, or is devoted to, me? And I don’t want to have to pick.



So this is what it’s like to enjoy a moment

August 11th, 2018, 10:40 PM by Goddess

That moment when both your boys are somehow at the same place and in the same room with you.

And they are naturally being their affectionate selves toward me, having no idea how deep my connection is to the other.

Guess it’s lucky that me being generally hug-repellent is a known Thing. I’d be in worse trouble if anyone could read me with any measure of accuracy.

I should be mortified but I’m loving this.



Not asking for a friend

August 8th, 2018, 10:58 PM by Goddess

Ever find yourself perfectly happy with the perfect person and someone else shows interest (in me, to be clear) and turns your entire world on its axis?



‘Do the girls back home touch you like I do?’

June 22nd, 2018, 7:05 PM by Goddess

Editor’s note: I wrote this 2018/05/13. Not sure if it will retain that date when I hit publish. My webhost is asking me to migrate my data and suggested putting up a new post. So I am putting up a new “old” post that’s been in draft mode since I think it’s OK to acknowledge this very cool thing that’s happening.


Ah, Taylor Swift. Never stop writing about your life at the exact same time it applies to mine.

Has it been a month already since I blogged behind the curtain? I write blogs in my head almost every day. I miss the actual blogging that I haven’t done since March.

But then I think of the one who analyzes every word — and misinterprets every last one of them to fit his own twisted narrative. What is sad that there is actually more than one. And none can leave well enough alone.

Maybe I’ll slip and hit publish. Or not. Honestly, having exactly zero connection to him … and to a whole bunch of others … has been sort of heavenly.

I have plenty of friends who have noticed their lost connection to me here. But it seems there are plenty more who get their gossip this way. And every goddamned one of them thinks that any vague statement I make is about them personally, rather than as a collective.

Yeah, maybe I WON’T hit that publish button after all.

In any event, the quiet has been good for me. Met a nice boy and figured if he hit the Google online jackpot, he’d land here and I REALLY didn’t want to have any recent posts up here. I might or might not have Googled him and learned a whole lot too. But to be fair, I did stop when I learned enough.

It was mostly good stuff, though. Interviews he’s done, articles he’s published, a book (!) he’s shopping around. I found me a literate one!

I did stop the Googling, though, because it’s not like that. It’s cool. It’s fun. It’s light. It could turn into something or it couldn’t. And I know it will be fine either way.

That’s a little different for me. There are people I’ve never written a syllable about here because I was SO HOPING they were everything I’d been waiting (a very long time) for.

Now, enh. That tick-tock of the biological clock is abating. I’m turning 44 (!) next week. It would be a medical marvel if I not only could physically bear a child, but imagine myself wanting one even now.

I know he has other entanglements. As do I. But I don’t think enough to trip either of us up.

He’s pretty. God, I do find some pretty ones. Likes a good sexy car too. Liberal. Voted for Hillary. So basically, “my type.”

I don’t know that it goes any deeper than that. But to quote the immortal — and newly inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame — Jon Bon Jovi, “Don’t bore us; get to the chorus”:

“Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you’re in my head?
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate
Isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it?
Isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it?
Delicate.”



Paris and mountains

February 17th, 2018, 11:18 AM by Goddess

Had dinner with my old boss last night. Not any of the crazy-useless men; this is the 29-year-old female who starts her new job on Tuesday. The one I never dreamed I would like and respect so much. The one who helped me to get to where I am today.

We had beer and fries, as we do when we are together. We also share a birthday — and it’s strange to believe there’s a 15-year age gap, because we are so alike.

Even if this brief friendship ends here, it already gave us so much more than a lifetime of knowing another person could.

She was proud of me that I hooked up my would-be boss with a gal who used to report to me. I said I really had her spirit in my heart when that all came together. We girls have to look out for each other, and do.I also got to make a job offer to another girl who used to work for both of us. At a real salary this time. All she has to do is accept it.

We fist-bumped and ordered another round. To JT. To MC. To DE., who couldn’t make it because she bought a last-second plane ticket to see her daughter at college before her own new job starts Tuesday.

To us. To wherever life takes us next.

“Sometimes, sometimes we can see beyond our history
The last place you hope to find
The one that´s been there all the time.

Sometimes, sometimes we can swim beyond the scenery
And the first place that’s on your mind
The first place you´d find each time.”

— Beth Orton, “Paris Train”

The card I gave her had mountains on the front — something she dreams of seeing. It said the journey of a thousand steps isn’t the hard part; it’s the first one that’s a real doozy. We laughed over that.

We both got what we wanted. Control for me, freedom for her. A complete switch from this time last week.

I should say, we both got what we wanted NEXT. After that, she’s in search of mountains. As for me, I said Paris is what I want.

I opened up about Sia. How her mom had houses in Paris and Germany; how she was going to show me Europe. But alas, our workaholic ways kept us apart. And one day, she went to step on a plane out of Vancouver and her heart gave out.

In a way, mine did too. I stopped dreaming about Paris because I didn’t have anyone to go with, anymore.

My friend said save your money, and get your ass to Paris. If that’s what you get out of your new job, it will be worth it.

We hugged tightly and parted ways. Maybe forever, maybe for a few weeks. She’s moving to my old stomping grounds and I’m planning to move to hers. But we’ll always have Ireland — well, rather, the Irish bar right-smack at the halfway point that we love so much.

What an awesome/awful year behind us both. And what a wonderful/ridiculous one ahead. If we can just stay focused on where we want to be at the end of it, we will turn out OK once again.