Yep, the Canadian’s gone, too.  And I’m not sure why.  My middle daughter, the expert on men, she thinks I drove him away.  He seemed to be hung up about commitment.  God knows I’m ready for that but not with him.  Not now.  He’s not even divorced yet. 

My thinking is — Tell me if you see fallacy here — if I were to start sleeping with him now and say in four months when maybe his divorce is final and he’s in a position to date, he could be in the market for someone 20 years younger than I, given that he’s 46. 

The real hitch for me is his family.  It’s gonna be a mess and the ex is no one I want to get involved with. 

I told him I thought he should date some.  I want him to see how horrible it is.  I imagine, being married all this time, he has fantasies about all the different women he could try out.  You never know, he could get lucky, but I’m thinkin’ he’ll be back.  When I started to explain this he quickly said “you think I’ll come back around.”  And I said, “yes.”

I went to listen to a group tonight, at our bar.  I emailed him about it, rather than returning his call this morning.  He’d sounded polite.  And busy.  He gets the boys tomorrow night so if he were going to see me it would have been tonight.  I waited with a new dress and hairdo but he didn’t surprise me like I thought he would.  And when I got home he hadn’t left me a message like he always does when he can’t be there.

While he was packing and driving to the airport I wrote him two explicit emails about how I see things.  But when he called that night I was too embarrassed to talk about it.  So I never found out what he really thinks.  I know what he wants to do, though.  He said he agreed with me that, for now, it’s best to be friends.

I wrote that last night and this morning I went back and read our emails.  It all reads very logically but, damn, it hurts.  This was the daily guru message:  “When man separated his awareness from BEING he became a free radical, so to speak. All free radicals are desperately seeking to bond, even though the bonding is of a negative nature. For example, one who takes drugs is bonding with that drug even though that drug may lead to harm.”

The last sentence turned me off, and, unlike most of the famous quotes, this is just off some Ebook but the sentiment applies.  I feel like I’ve been cut off from some major sustenance.  When he traveled we would talk twice a day.  I would see him twice a week and in between all that there were emails.  He has become demonstrative and was pushing for more so we started kissing.

What’s interesting to me though, and I walked around the farmer’s market this morning, not able to pinpoint it, – You know when something’s trying to surface — is that I think what I’m learning is that this ache isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  It hurts but not like a burn.  I think when your heart gets involved to this degree it can never be a bad thing. 

From the very beginning, and it was eerie how much he reminded me of the married man, I felt like it was okay to get involved.  Even if it was just to help get him through the worst.  God knows, I appreciated Anthony when I was in the middle of my divorce.  And I’ve tried to behave like Anthony did with me.

After that reading I heard at the guru’s about opening your heart, I told him I was putting ego and control aside and that if he needed it and I could give it to him, it was his.  And it felt good to be so loving, so giving.  But that’s when he brought up commitment and how he wasn’t comfortable with casual sex because he didn’t like to hurt people.  I heard casual and hurt and figured anything beyond friendship would be short-lived. 

I am hoping you will give me some honest feedback.  Like do I need therapy?  Am I seeing this wrong?  It kind of feels like this was someone God planted in my path, I’m just not sure what the lesson is.

I’m having a bad day.  I thought it was just the fact that I lost lots more money and next quarter doesn’t look much better but as the day wore on I lost people, too. 

One was a woman, and, even though she’s not someone I’ll ever see, I felt a connection to her.  I smile when I see her recipe several times a month and I remember, like it was my own, some of the things she’s written.  I WISH they were mine. 

One was Wally.  He was one of the first to resurface, and we have been having such a good time together.  I made it very clear, I thought, that I was only interested in friendship.  I told him that very thing the first time we got together.  But, the way he was acting yesterday, I knew he wanted more.  We just got that all straightened out tonight.  I won’t be hearing from him again.  I adore him and will miss him terribly. 

And I’m afraid the third one is the Canadian.  We shall see.

The following post is protected so if I know you but neglected to put you on the list (sorry) let me know.  It’s only protected because I’m too lazy to think up names for people.  That gets so confusing for me. I still need to edit it but this is what I wrote on the paper I ordered .

Still more people come.  I went to a reading on Sunday that my voice teacher urged me to attend.  I didn’t want to go because it was an excerpt from a book her guru had written and I’m not all that keen on the practice they do.  She had whittled it down to an hour and a half and her actor/husband did a great job with the reading. 

I was kind of hoping to run into the guy who sang the sad song in German at the recital.  I figured he might be as he’s an actor, too, and I know my teacher is fond of him.  He was there all right, but with some woman who couldn’t have been his wife, though he had a wedding ring on.  I don’t know why he interests me since he seems so morose. 

I caught him watching me a couple times.  But he’d quickly look away when I would turn back around in my seat to face front.  He was sitting two rows up and one seat over.  On the other side of him were two women from my past, sisters.   

It was so bizarre running into them there that when I got to my car I kept walking.  That’s when I realized how odd it was to be attending this guru’s talk one block down the street from my old guru where I’d spent five years studying Taoism.  That hit me hard.  I don’t get what these people have in common or why they are showing up now but I do know it has to do with my spiritual practice and hers. 

I wanted to sit down and think so I went into a restaurant called Milo’s City Cafe.  I ordered chicken picatta, a glass of wine, and a piece of paper, and I wrote about seeing the two women.  It’s in my purse in the other room but it’s late so I’ll have to do it next time. 

Remember the steady parade of people from my past?  Another one walked by.  I was having lunch with my sister when I saw J. through the window.  She was the head reader and ruler of the court reporting school I attended for five years.  It should have been four but I decided to tackle real time and that added another year.  Plus, all the surgeries slowed me down.  My plastic surgeon made me take two months off after he put the implants in because he didn’t want me lugging my computer and steno machine up and down the many steep steps to my house.  After each surgery I would have to go back to the speed I’d finally passed and start over. 

Even though we spent all those years as enemies we respected each other and when it looked like I was finally going to graduate she bought me a present, which she presented after I got my first 225 (wpm).  You needed two to graduate but my oncologist said I had to quit so she gave me the necklace anyway.  In the parking lot she told me I was the only one she’d ever done that with.  She said, “that should give you some idea how I felt about you.” 

This woman was hardnosed and we disagreed.  She wanted us to write to sound, phonetically, but I was a “briefer.”  There were those of us who made up our own language and, especially for “jury,” would take commonly used phrases like burden of proof and make it burp.  I had briefs for everything and people were always asking me how I wrote something which drove her nuts. 

I had no idea she liked me.  At the graduation ceremonies she would always present her little gift.  This was out of her own pocket and the jewelry was nice.  I used to wonder about that because it was so out of character.  That was before I got to know her.

Not that I ever really did.  After the divorce when I bought my house and had finished chemo, I had a big party to celebrate.  I invited some of my friends from school, which included her son, so I kind of had to ask her, too.  I was terribly fond of K.  He taught the medical classes and read Q and A with her for the 225s.  That’s when two people read from a deposition, one taking the part of the lawyer and one reading the voice of the person being deposed.  They have to read at exactly 225 words per minute, then bump it up to 240.  There are VERY few people who are able to do that, and this mother and son were quite a team.  He also read lit (congressional record) for night school, and I would sit in with his classes when I was getting close to passing a test.  We would chat after class so I got to know him pretty well.     

She was so surprised because she had just been thinking about me.  I was a little creeped out because it seems like these people are coming out of the woodwork, all at the same time.  And what’s interesting is that they are all people I would characterize as significant.  They all played a huge part in my life, with the exception of the high school guy.  I hope this isn’t something like my life’s passing before my eyes. 

I gave her my number and told her to bring K.when she meets me for lunch sometime. I’m definitely going to do a character sketch on him.  Talk about unique.  She brought her husband to the party, too, and we were all shocked.  That’s when I figured out who she really was.  She had this whole professional image thing going on where she thought she had to act like a hardass for some reason.  She’s lost a bunch of weight and looked ten years younger when I saw her Wednesday.  Can’t wait to hear her story.

I see the last time I posted was a week ago, Tues.  It seems longer.  I’ll get back into the swing of this in another couple paragraphs, which should be small since I’m feeling so fragmented. 

My youngest is in town until the 15th, so I’ve seen a lot of the girls this week.  The oldest brought her puppy over, and we laid out on the deck while they trounced around my forest.  The sun was finally out here and we got some, but our bath was interrupted.  The two dogs had discovered the rotting remains of what the cat must have killed days ago.  They were taking turns rolling in it.  My dog needed a bath anyway but she had just bathed hers.  No matter, we all had fun playing with the hose.

I made the mistake of spending three hours at the library the other day, soaking up inspiration.  I went straight to the grocery store to buy ingredients for all the great recipes Id seen.  Next stop was the nursery to create my own magic with overstuffed pots.  I now have seven large pots spilling over with all manner of annuals.  My favorite was the most boring to plant, and at the time I wished Id gotten a third choice.  But it is the most vibrant, maybe because it has the fewest colors and each is a gradation away from the other.  I used blue and yellow pansies.  One looked great with blue and white lobelia and one had a purple hue to it so I used the solid blue lobelia to match.  Plus I found just the right shade of petunia. 

Oh, and I did one in just white.  For the center I used three cosmos and for the trailing I used lobelia and alyssum.  I can’t remember what the mid-sized plants were.  I think white petunias. 

My second favorite had white alyssum, let’s call it “midnight magenta” petunias, white petunias, mixed dianthus, you know those little versions of sweet William and some snapdragon for the center which pulled together all the shades of pink, plus a little yellow.  Busy but bright. 

It got worse.  I went to the farmer’s market and found two scented azalea bushes, one the golden yellow I’ve always wanted, which looks great with the orange and yellow snapdragons and the nasturtium plants that should be the right hues.  The other is pink, slightly salmon, with hints of yellow and white in the center which looks great with lemon yellow snapdragons and the annual begonias I like to use as ground cover.  I will have to dig out a portion of yard to add to an existing bed so for now I just grouped the plants in the driveway until I get to it.  It’s been miserable weather up until yesterday.

Quite by accident I spent another three hours pouring over patterns and then material.  I needed buttons and popped into JoAnn’s.  That’s when I remembered the high school reunion and the dress I would need for the luau.  It was like old times.  I used to spend Friday nights doing this very thing.  Henry would come back from whatever state he’d been in and I would go look at material and then catch a late movie.  I didn’t have any single girlfriends or married ones who could get the night off in those days so I just hung out by myself. I made most of my clothes then because we didn’t have the money  to buy what I was used to wearing so I figured out how to make it.  I made some pretty cool stuff if I do say so myself. 

The last time I made a dress was probably ten years ago.  It’s a shift I wear when it’s hot.  It’s got an empire waist and square neck and  is loose enough I can pull it over my head.  Up until recently it’s looked too short but now short’s back in.

I’m also trying to come up with some great clothes to wear to the blues festival this year without spending a ton of money.  I bought some practice material, which I like in case it turns out.  The oldest said it looked African.  She said I should use it to recover the antique chaise the dog sleeps on.   It would look good on a chair.  But it will look good on me, too, as long as this pattern works out.  But you never know.

My oldest and no longer estranged friend and I saw Sex in The City last night.  It was surprisingly good and the perfect thing to see together.  It was fun to be at the movies again after spending much of our preteen years there. 

This singing thing is amazing.  I sent an email to my teacher and she responded:

Sent: Saturday, May 31, 2008 5:47 PM

Subject: Re: flashbacks

Kris,

 

I’m sure this will strike you as odd but have you ever had a student comment that they were suddenly flooded with memories (fond) after taking up singing?   I can’t imagine there being a correlation but it’s the only thing that’s changed in my life. 

 

For the past few days I repeatedly will flash on some moment (happy) where I am in Florida or at the beach or just walking my dog.  Either I have written — I always journal a lot when I travel in case I want to use the setting later — about the place and I am remembering being there or the last one was just one afternoon standing in front of a condo down by the river thinking when I got old I could imagine living there.

 

Maybe singing gets blood and oxygen to a part of the brain that stores memories?  Sounds kooky but you never know.

 

Prudy

 

So, yeah, I’ve never been happier.  Who knew what a great activity this would turn into.