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Amusement Park Rides and Marriage

SwingI remember clearly the last time I was on an amusement park ride. It was not a pleasant experience. It was one of those rides that throws you through the air and swings you side to side roughly, abruptly changing directions so suddenly and with such force that you wonder if your internal organs have departed your body. Then you immediately wonder how can the mechanics of this ride sustain such momentum and force.  When will that one bolt work it’s way loose.  When will my chair…or my daughter’s chair in front of me…be the one to go flying wildly into the air as if forcefully flung from the contraption. I remember gritting my teeth, dreading every moment, wondering when the ride would end. My daughter on the other hand reveled in the moment.

It was the last amusement park ride I ever rode.

I learned something about myself that day.  I learned, I don’t really like amusement park rides. Not even the tame ones.  Too much of my psyche is preoccupied with enduring the experience.  There’s no enjoyment.  Even more of my energy is consumed with fretting about that one in one hundred billionth chance that something will go desperately wrong.

Then, of course, there is the time and expense.  At many amusement parks, you pay a premium for a two minute ride. And…you stand in line for a very long time for that short ride.  Even at a small county fair, you can expect to pay way too much for way too little in terms of entertainment time.  And then what?  When it’s all over, you are broke and miserable, with nothing but a bad memory to show for it.  At least, that’s my experience.

No matter how many rides I go on or how many different venues I experience it’s always the same.

It’s interesting how similar my experiences with marriage are to amusement park rides.

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Alone vs. Lonely

lonely-womanThe insomnia has returned.  I cannot for the life of me sleep past 4.5 hours.  I’m usually awake from anywhere between 2 am to 4 am.  I don’t feel particularly anxious, but I can become so when I begin thinking about my financial future…which is uncertain…at this time.  I can become even more anxious when I think of the possible financial outcomes of the divorce. Of course, anytime there is an interaction regarding the divorce (a hearing or prepping for a hearing,  or a response from the opposing attorney because there is no communicating with my husband at all) my body goes into full on fight or flight mode. My hands start shaking. My heart races. I begin feeling anxious…very anxious. Read the rest of this entry

Fairy Tales and Nightmares

About two years ago, I published a post on this blog about meeting this great guy. I published a post or two a bit later about marrying that guy and leaving my life as I had known it to live with him overseas.  He worked overseas as a contractor and the plan was that I would move with him and live with him where he worked.  It was a wonderful fairy tale story except that it was real and it was happening to me. I was going to be able to fulfill a lifelong  dream of living abroad, being able to write and not have to deal with the stresses of my career. I was marrying a man I loved and who loved me.  It was going to be great.

Except…it wasn’t great. Read the rest of this entry

Goldilocks and Dating

Online dating is so much like the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. If you’re a woman, you can pretty much put up a profile, and if your profile is decent and your pictures are good, you can just dangle that bait in the water and watch the fish come swarming to your inbox. But then the real work begins. It’s just like Goldilocks sampling the porridge, the chairs and the beds of The Three Bears: this one’s too hot, that one’s too cold, will the next one be just right?

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Married Men

Ever go into a business meeting or some social event and notice how many people are married? Now, I’m not exactly looking for Mr. Right. As each day passes, I become more and more convinced that the relationship/marriage boat sailed long ago and I was probably at the airport when it did. No. I’m not looking for someone to complete me. I’m not looking for a friend to benefit with. I’m not looking to get involved in any kind of romantic relationship at all. Not only that, but I live in a location that is billed as one of the worst places in this nation to be if you are a single woman. I’m not fooling myself. The odds for me to meet up with some decent guy I’m somewhat compatible with are slim. That I might have a romantic connection with the guy reduces the odds almost 100%. Even though I’m not looking,even though I don’t really care, there are times when I look around and I notice that all the men in the room are married. I then notice that most of the women in the room are married too…except for me…and maybe one or two others. Most of the time this doesn’t bother me. I like being single and being in a room of men who are married, especially if they are happily married, means I’m not going to get hit on at the company conference. I like that. It means I can actually have a conversation with these men that focuses on something meaningful that won’t necessarily lead to the bedroom.

I feel this way, most of the time, except for the meeting I attended tonight.

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How Do I Find You?

My mother used to say some things that were interesting when she told them to me as a child, but now, after her passing nearly a decade ago, I find them to be perceptive beyond belief. One of her favorite axioms was, “Most of life is boring.” She would usually say this in response to one of us kids declaring our boredom. She was unphased. “It’s life,” she’d say. “Only boring people get bored. Learn to entertain yourself, instead of relying on others to do it for you.”

My mother was right. So much of life is wash, rinse, repeat.

I get up, drag myself out of bed, and fumble my way to the shower. I go through my days doing mostly stuff that pertains to making sure my kids and I have a roof over our heads, food in the fridge, electricity and heat, and a vehicle to get us to and fro. My weekend activities don’t vary much. I’m a bit of a cyclist and spend lots of time out on my bike. I tend to go to the same places to eat and socialize. I have fun, but it isn’t a constantly changing menu of activities and events.

Today, or rather, yesterday, I got up and decided I would drive my fancy new-to-me car to a small trendy town nearby and have breakfast at a lovely little place that is always packed and has delicious, melt-in-your-mouth menu items. I went alone. I usually go alone. I like to go alone. I’m really okay with this most of the time, but lately, maybe due to the car wreck with my kid, maybe due to the fact that everyone else around me seems to be having success in the relational field, maybe because I’m just tired of being alone all.the.time. Most of the time I don’t mind being alone, but lately I’ve stopped going out and doing things, because I was getting tired of doing the alone thing. Today, I didn’t care. I wanted to have breakfast at a nice place. I wanted to drive in my car. I didn’t necessarily want to have to be responsible for holding up my end of a conversation, but I somehow, strangely wanted to immerse myself in a crowd of people and noise, and fragrances and life. So, I went out to breakfast.

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Happy Valentine’s aka. Singles Awareness Day

Red and pink balloons, chocolates in heart shapes with red, pink, silver, and gold foil wrapping, cards, dinners…disgusting. Valentine’s Day is a day of obligation. It’s a day of duty. It’s a day of, “If you don’t get her something, your proverbial goose is cooked.” It’s a day I’ve never enjoyed, no matter my relationship status. It always seemed, when I was in a relationship, that the men I was with were anxious about the day. Or they forgot. Or they simply didn’t know what to do. Or worse…and this did happen…they didn’t care and they did nothing.

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Dating…Again? Or In Which The Idea Of Dating Makes Me Sick

I have given up on dating. For reasons stated in my last post, I am not interested in putting myself out there at all in order to find, or become involved in, a relationship. Right after my separation and divorce in 2007, at the insistence of my oldest daughter, I put up an online profile on a dating site. Before the year was out, I had tried nearly all the dating sites in existence at that time. I got to know the dating sites, and I met a lot of really great people. None of them were “the one”, but they were all decent. I met a few creepers also, but I learned to distinguish these people early on, for the most part.

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Musings of A Belated Christmas

Today, or yesterday, since I’m writing this in the middle of the night after which these events occurred, was Christmas for my little clan. It happens this way every other year. It is the way of the Broken Marriage. It is the way of The Divorced. My kids have all returned from their other homes. They unloaded, drug their things in, and sprawled out filling every open space in my once empty house. The noise level is unbearably loud, with all four voices often vying to be heard by notching up the sound meter higher, and higher. We are not a quiet family. Apartment life would not work at all for us. Whether, calling up to a child from downstairs or re-telling the latest events that happened while they were gone, the noise is never quiet. Or, it never was, until yesterday.

My secret to success?

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Joy

Ever notice how we human beings have ways of marking the passage of time? Sure, we have our calendars, our reminders, our clocks and gizmos. I’m talking about the not-so-obvious ways of marking time. The methods which mark time in subtle ways that leave you realizing after the fact how time has passed rather than noting it up front.

I am not a winter person. I like cool weather but I’m really a sunny, summer person. I mark my years mostly by noting the passage of the seasons. The months from January to the end of March are dreadful for me. In the region where I live winters are relatively mild, but temperatures can vary from a balmy 60 degrees one day to snowing and freezing levels the next. I find this pretty tough on my system. I’m always glad when Daylight Saving Time arrives. Even though I lose an hour, I can see that summer is on the way, and with it, some more consistent temperatures.

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