Wednesday, May 28, 2008

What the hell?

So have you ever had memory cross over?....I never really put it together until last weekend when Mr Man and I were just slightly outside of the throws of Black Bike Week. I say slightly outside because we were only privy to one REALLY big ass hanging out of something REALLY small on the back of a bike. Otherwise just the occasional passing of some guys in search of the scary ass. But wait, I have to give the first part of the memory...we were listening to Margaritaville and they were replaying the concert from the show that were just at a few weeks before and somewhere near the very drunken end Buffett did his version of Bob Dylan's Everybody Must Get Stoned. So we were just in the midst of being impressed with ourselves for remembering at all and commenting about how we would never hear that song without thinking about one nameless friends dad signing every word to the top of his lungs, when in on coming traffic there it was....the memory crossover. 15 badass hoodlum mopeds hauling ass south for Black Bike Week. Now, granted I'm white and maybe I just don't get it but....What the hell?

There are I suppose things that I understand even less....Dr. Leonard's mail order catalog. Apparently from the product line these things are geared toward the elderly consumers. As an example, on the cover we have a gingam print moo-moo available in 4 pastel colors. Pg 4 a fleece recliner cover. Pg 12 the little tennis ball covers that go on the front legs of a walker. Along with various other bath handle grips, support stockings and a whole slue of velcro shoes. Completely unspecting. Until you get to pg 22....2 pages of dildos and "Advanced Sexual Technique" videos. It actually shows a woman rubbing her neck with a vibrator.... I'm really hoping that this stuff isn't a big seller for them. So if Granny has something sitting beside her tv table dont think anything of it....she was just the innocent victim of personal massage twisted marketing. Ya know she could have just been looking for one of the horseshoe shaped neck pillows on pg 19 and gotten confused.

What the hell?

Back to Center

I knew I had written this somewhere in one of the many little spiral notebooks I keep laying around the house. So I went on a search and found it....thought about just giving snipits but liked the all of it since it still speaks exactly how I feel.

A little late on the resolution front....The short of it is this.

I am not one of them, I refuse to act like one of them to make them more comfortable. I will not run around in their little rat races. I'm no kin to rodents, so I don't have to participate in their olympic games.

I'm more content than ever to be who I am and how I am. I've settled nicely into my myself. I like that I like Buffett better than any other music. I don't have to know band names or what they look like and I like that too.

So, no resolution here, other than to never ignore the voice and always just be me. "Me" always knows best and when in doubt, find center and try again.

That last line is what I was looking for. I had managed to get a bit off center lately...who knows why, it just happens sometimes. The long beach weekend put me back on track. I only answered the phone calls I wanted to and made less than that. Committed to no plans. Showed up for social interaction when I felt like it and left the same way. It was good feeling to be able to be around people you know or to completely disappear into the beach full of tourists. My time with Mr Man and 5000 pounds of shrimp made me feel complete. Hard to believe I know that anything that involves "deveining" and fish smell can do that, but it did. And I figured out that my proximity to water is pretty important.

I sat there by myself Monday watching all these people on the beach that are my age or younger with all of their kids and families and obligations and baggage. I realized just how good I have it and how much I don't want to be anywhere but here. Here being the way and how that I am. Mr. Man said to me last night "you take my heart, you take my breath, you take my every thought". I am where I need to be...occasionally you just realize it. I found Center again.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Preparing for the shallow end...

Well I am headed to hang out in the shallow end of the pool this weekend. Doing all of my last minute girl duties in order to have a complete lack of responsibility weekend. (Outside of getting the dog out for poo breaks in a timely manner of course).

I am making my first appearance since New Years at the beach...first interaction with everyone since they all decided which side of the perverbial divorce fence they reside on. Can't say I'm terribly looking forward to it. I'm torn between really hoping that the other side of the fence posseser is there with his new thing and they run cock blocker for me since everyone will be hanging out with them vs. the I REALLY do not want to be anywhere close to the same vacinity as him. The really suck part is that there are only 2 bars to hang at and the said "hanging out" takes place at different times so there is never more than 1 option at a time. And the resturant ratio isn't much better. Kinda makes the odds of not running into anyone slim to none if you plan on a public appearance at all.

This is about as whiny as I'll get....the emotional guppies are wearing me out even before I'm exposed to them. I'm anticipating the hugs and OMG we've missed you crap. I'm on a rant only because I am a very stick with you person and get really twisted up when I dont get the same in return. Twisted up is probably a wrong description...I get really put off and then really over you. All the while you are still unaware that you may have upset the Great Oz. I give you rope then sit quietly while you hang yourself.

Its just the way that I am. I am fully aware of it and also fully ok with it.

I'm sure I'll come away with some entertaining stories....and really in the end if you can giggle and snort at stupid people then that's all the matters.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

We are at that point...

There comes a time in life that you say to yourself...Good God I must tell someone about this. Welcome to that time of my life. Nothing like fresh divorce to get your creative mind functioning again. I'm actually ahead of myself...thats not for 160 more days...not that I'm keeping up with it. Maybe I'll start an official divorce countdown.

Anyways, my day is peaking, yes I am watching the dog poo as I write. #2 #2 on the day...he must be detoxing (did that a few months back just to build some history). Came about from liver worry...yadda yadda it makes you poo your brains out for 2 weeks. Wow. How quickly I've digressed to poo talk. I have a theory that conversation eventually turn to poo. This one just came on at a much unanticipated speed....moving on.

So on my way home from lunch to witness above mentioned poo I see this....

In case you can't see it...its a TOOL label. And ya know...that about sums it up. I wish all dumbasses came with an obvious identifier...would've saved me some time.

I did however see all the red flags of one at the gym tonight. I vaguely recall an incident with the same dumbass a few months back...he invaded my space and said something about "mortar shoulders" tonight I didn't do well with my no eye contact method of avoiding interaction. For pointers, if I look a completely different way will you are talking to me you can take this as a hint that the direction I'm looking is also the direction I'm considering going when I break out into that full out get-away-from-the-dumbass sprint. So within the 2 minutes that he cornered me I know this about him (try to keep up) - He "busted" his ankle up 3 weeks ago but then 2 days later went on a "really intense" ride, then 2 days later played golf. And his "busted" stuff just wouldn't seem to mend. He just got back from California where we rode all thru the wine country with this dude that he bought a Tour de France bike off of last year and has kept in touch with. He also really loves beer and he brews his own and tonight is $1 off draft at the Tap Room and Monday nights is $1.50 draft somewhere else that has really great craft beers and bladdy bladdy. Then he takes a breath and asks me my name...looking back I have no idea why I didn't say something like "Bob" but I didn't. Oh, nice to meet you, I'm Lanny. AAAGGGHHHH!! And that was somewhere close to my actual reaction. I told him sorry but he had a really bad name since I've only known one in life and I'm currently on an active divorce countdown with him. At which point he starts up a discertation about his name really being Gardner something something the third. I somewhere around this point head off in that direction of my stare and broke away...but not before the hand shake. Dude. WTF.