Laid Off, Fired, Let Go

You can be laid off or you can get laid.
You can be fired or fired up.
You can let go, or be let go.
I think I have experienced all of the above
in the past 30 days.

I'm tired.

He's Just in it for Sex

I recently wrote this as my status on FaceBook:

All of the males I know say of other men "Oh, he's just in it for sex". Uh, um, so....

I'm still left unresolved. If every male I know says he's just in it for sex in a negative manner about other men, are they also saying it about themselves?
Which brings me once again to the question of love vs sex. Here are my thoughts:

I have bandied about the phrases "love" and "in love" too many times to count, and I will continue to do so most likely until the day I die. I love so many men, I'm in love with many of them too. Not the kind of in love that doesn't last the kind of in love that brings joy to my heart. I have said "if you can make me laugh, I'll fall in love with you" it's so true. Do I fantasize about sex with these men? That's my business, do I flirt, hell yeah! Love is weird, it comes from the heart when you least expect it. It's fleeting, it's deep, it's forever, sometimes it dies. "In love" is more confusing to me. I've never gotten beyond first grade "in love". I kissed Steven Rosenberg on the cheek in the back of the class. That was the beginning for me, I don't even think we ever spoke. Hit and run, that's me. I prefer the word smitten, it's so non-committal and better describes feelings.

As for sex, I have loved sexual partners, I have been in love with sexual partners, I have had no feeling for sexual partners, and I have been date raped. No means No guys. I have had bad sex with men I love and I have had great sex with men I don't love. I have fallin in love during sex for a moment, and then afterwards wondered why I'm there. I've had angry "I'll show him" sex. I've had one last time sex (that never seemed to be one last time even if it took years to happen again) and I've had can we just get this over with sex.

My one friend's response was "and women are in it for....??"
To which my reply is: What the heck do I know. I just hate it when it ends.

"Hubbell, it's Katie."

Have you ever cried during sex? I have, not a lot but it has happened.

When I'm "caught" of course I lie. I've always tried my best to hide it but sometimes depending on how you wind up, the tears role in a bad position and then you can't get to them because your hands are God knows where, so you hear him say "are you crying?" Busted! Honestly this doesn't happen often, how could it, after all? So, what do I say? "YEAH??? WTF is that about?" or "It's nothing, happens sometimes just an emotional release....women?"

Why do I really cry? Sometimes, just for a second, my head interrupts the fun that my body is having. (at least when it is having fun) Once my brain goes there, my heart shifts into immediate reaction and triggers the tear.

Where does my brain go for that two seconds? To the reality of the situation, to the heart of the matter. To the fact that this has nothing to do with love. To the knowledge that it's possible I could have a brown paper bag over my head and it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. To the reality that I am not special.

But more than that...neither is he.

I Could Spend my Whole Day Through Just Watching you.

I simply adore people watching. Strangers that is, not a stalker! I could do it all day and I have.

When I graduated Art School me and my friend did almost all of the Art Shows at the shore. It was fun, we made a couple of bucks, met other artists, swapped art, got a tan, and had an excuse to rent a motel room.

You're typical win win.

Normally I would find myself sitting on the railing if there was one, working on my tan and watching the people.It made the day fly, sales made the day fly too, but people watching was easier. Well, I learned how to act at an art/craft show at least, the do's and don'ts as it were. But lets get back to people watching.

Another great place to people watch is at Trade Shows and Weddings, I have taken up smoking at weddings so I can go out and mingle and feel at one with the other smokers. Turns out it's a special private club, and a great reason to excuse yourself when you find you are bored to tears. Wish I had started it years ago.

You need to be discreet, if they know you are watching they show off, sometimes I start up a ridiculously personal conversation, especially with young people. I feel I am at the age that I can finally get away with it without fear that someone thinks I'm trying to pick them up.

So next time you go out I'll be the one not paying attention, but watching every movement.
Don't be fooled there are many of us.

Funny Love, Wham Bam Bam

Why do I still search for it?

I know love is different for everyone, I know it ebbs and flows, I know it changes.
After all this time, I still don't think I know what I want.

I must have been in my early thirties when a female photographer and I had gotten pretty close. We had to do a 28 page catalog together so we had been spending lots of time together. She told me a story that made my mouth drop. She found out her husband of over 10 years was leading a double life. He was married to another women in another state and had children with her. I don't remember the details, I just remember that she was shattered. I had a hard time wrapping my head around what she told me.

My mother always said "You never know what goes on behind closed doors"

My Aunt knew her husband was having an affair for many years, she still loved him and took care of him. Each Thursday night for I don't know how many years he worked late. She was just content with the fact that he came home. She died first. Which worked out really well for him.

Is this what I want?

I know too many couples to count who have not been intimate for years. Observers think they are happy.
They are comfortable and neither wants to pull up roots and give up a lifestyle they have become accustom to. They have no passion, some are mean spirited toward each other.

I don't want that.

I'm guessing I won't know what I want until it bites me in the...

Life in the Slow Lane

I really don't like to go food shopping. It's one of those things that was much simpler years ago. Now there are so many choices: low calorie, low salt, no salt, low fat, high protein, lite, 1%, 2%, mini, maxi, fresh, organic, natural, high fiber.....you get my drift. It takes so long to find the one simple thing that I've been buying for years or to sift through all of the new choices. What used to be a quick stop now seems to take an eternity.

Back in the day, I actually clipped coupons. Then I decided with the time it took to clip and organize...and then to find the item in the store ~ I finally freed myself of it all. Now I see these extreme coupon ladies and it really is amazing. I have much respect for them!

But back to shopping. I remember the days when not only was someone always there to pack up your bundles, there was actually some kid outside who would help put the bags in your car for a small tip. Now that I'm not a young whippersnapper, I wish that was still the way of the grocery world.

There was a time when I enjoyed buying food, when my daughter was a toddler. Still small enough to sit in the cart seat but old enough not to grab at pizza cutters dangling from lame plastic hooks along the frozen pizza aisle. Those were fine times, getting a free cookie at the bakery, a slice of cheese at the Deli, learning new words, opening boxes of cereals before paying for them and munching on fresh grapes. I remember one of the first times I ran to the store with out her. That was the one and only time I actually grabbed the wrong cart in the process of shopping. I guess I was so used to her as a marker for the cart and I also guess I never left the cart alone when she was in it. I'll actually never know if someone grabbed my cart or if I grabbed theirs.

Needless to say I rarely have food in my house.

MOMMY! He's...

I have not had a close relationship with my brother since my mom kicked him out of the house in 1970. I tried, many times, but the obstacles were high. He was leading his own "wild life" that I was too young to be a part off. There's a big gap between 14 and 18, that lessens greatly between 57 and 61.

Our lives were different. He married and had his first son at 19, made a six figure salary with no more than a high school diploma. He worked hard and played hard. Drove beautiful cars, and toured the country on Harley's. His suits were custom made, he owned a magnificent collection of guns and he's "inked" to the nines.. We spoke maybe once a year, and saw each other every few.
I went to art school, married at 30, had my ears pierced three times, drive a 15 year old Subaru, before that I had two Chevette's and a Hyundai,  and had my daughter at 47. He laughed when I told him I was pregnant. I live my life in moderation. I don't do anything hard.

Seven years ago after our mother was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, she moved in with me for her last few months. My brother came often to see her. He favored my mom, I favored my dad, who died when I was eleven. My relationship with my brother grew from that point for awhile, then it fell back to where it had been. Last May my brothers wife passed away and I did what I do. He's on a fixed income now from a motorcycle accident, and can no longer stay where he is. I asked him to move in with me and he accepted.
My brother is moving in with me next week.

Take a deep breath.

Girls Rule Boys Drool

It seems to have come up in conversations recently, so after all of these years I've decided to give some thought to the question. What are the differences (for me) between female friends and male friends? Aside from the obvious.

I am fortunate to say that I have had many close relationships with both sexes over the years, my first boy "friend" was Steven. I'm very bad with dates and years so I'm guessing we were about six or seven. Steven lived three doors down from me and he was a year younger. We played lots of made up games and explored nature. Once we found a dead bird and dissected it. That was the day I got my first wasp sting. Then there was Sandy, we played house. At this point in my life there were no little girls on my block and so I had not yet experienced a real girlfriend, I also had only boy cousins, so I guess you could say I developed an ease around boys.

My first real girlfriend that I remember was when I started elementary school. Her name was Melody and sometimes I ate lunch at her house or visited after school. 
My friendships were never like "The Bill Chill" I never was in a group of friends that hung out and did stuff together. It was always one on one and still is. Every once in a while there would be two girls, it was fun while it lasted but it never seemed to, last that is.

So now lets get to the meat of the question. What are the differences? Well, with girlfriends, we talk about boys (boyfriends, love interests) and with boys we talked about love interests, usually of the opposite sex. Occasionally, I would go shopping with a friend, but usually alone. Some guys are very helpful at this. Drinks, dinner, lunch, movies, it's all the same with boys and girls. Talking is the key. Real friends no matter which sex are best to talk to. Talking on the sofa, on the phone, at tea, while standing by your car, skyping, texting, iming.

Ya know how people always say the sign of a true friend is: "it doesn't matter how long we've been apart we just pick up were we left off" I say the sign of a true friend is when one or both of you needs to leave and neither of you can stop talking.

The sex of the person makes not one bit a difference.

Clean up on Aisle...

I hate food shopping.

Pickin Cotton

I work in a fabric store.

Up until a few months ago I enjoyed my job. I adore my coworkers and my work was challenging, creative and fun. I built up our Facebook page from 200 to over 6000, wrote some blogs, sent out email sales and newsletters.     I designed a look, and generally was the Social Media go to girl. Until the young forman arrived. Suddenly the majority of my job resonsibilites were taken from me without a word. Well, there were a few words that came in the form of commands. I was to help the young bucks with ideas, direction and design ideas as well.

Nah, I don't think so.

Turns out I know the pulse of our readers and what they want. The Foreman tells me not to change anything I do on Facebook, because it works so well. I do anyway....when I think I can improve it. The sad part is I still like that part of my job. I hate not being acknowledged or appreciated for a job well done. Of course this kid makes twice what I do as a part-time consultant and he farms out the design (if you can call it that) to Pakistan.

Am I surprised? No, I've rarely been appreciated for my talents. In reality it may be partially my fault, I don't demand much. But between the glass ceiling and now the gray ceiling. It's hard to know the real reason.

I'm sure there's another plantation that can use some cheap help.

Shock Treatment

If someone has cancer and you know they are dying is it less painful when they pass?

When you see the company you work for sending more work overseas, does it hurt any less when you get your notice of termination?

If you suspect a friend is lying is it any less of a betrayal to find out the truth?

When you think the person you share your life with loves another, do you still shed a tear when they close the door behind them?

Alone Again, Naturally

I can't wait to live alone again. I'm not including my brother or my daughter. He's keeps to himself and is always there if I want to talk. He also likes to buy donuts. My daughter will soon be a teenager which means she'll be home less.

I am talking about being sans man. If I desire male companion ship or a man to fix something, say like "my pipes" I feel that will never be an issue.

Sure on occasion I will dream of meeting someone who will once again cherish me and dream of growing old with me. A man who will cuddle up to me in the middle of the night or kiss my forehead gently. But I will no longer be waiting or expecting that.

Sometimes I will feel sad and want nothing more than to lay around watching old movies under the covers drifting in and out of a drug induced sleep.

Other times I will bask in the freedom.

I don't know what lies down my road.

I do know I am ready.

GaGa Over Babies

I have to say I never got what the deal was with people getting all gaga with babies. Seemed all they did was spit up, poop, and cry. I used to tell my mother I'm not having a kid until I can get one that's around two and get rid of it at around eight. "I don't like babies." I would tell her. "Wait until you have your own." she would say.

When some of my friends had babies they asked: "Do you want to hold her?" I politely declined. At my job I was working on a brochure for new mom's. It required lots of pictures of a mom and baby. When I met our baby model, his mom asked if I wanted to hold him, I cringed inside. I'm a professional I thought, you'll be spending two long days with this baby and his mom, buck up. So I did.....at arms length. My entire department of co-workers and friends laughed out loud at me. I looked at them and shrugged, "I don't like babies."  "Wait until you have your own." they said almost in unison.


My second husband and I never had children, the majority of the couples we dated also choose not to have children. I had no regrets, no longings, no needs unfulfilled. We all had cats or dogs, responsibility enough. 


The man I married in my early forties, had a two year old and I became a stepmother. He told me he wanted to have a child with me. I was eight years older. I just smiled, I was confident at the age of forty six I had nothing to fear.


I was wrong. 


I loved every minute of my pregnancy but was very nervous about an actual baby. I wouldn't say motherhood came naturally to me, at least it didn't feel like it. Audrey's first three month's were a struggle for me, I'm told that's normal. At around six months the fun started up and continued until around the age of eight (yeah I was spot on with that) grrr. Kidding. 


I'm still not the person that picks up other people's babies, nor do I coo at them. I still prefer toddlers. 


If you don't like babies, I have some advice: Wait until you have your own.

Little Chicken

Can men and women be just friends?
Yes, if they weren't men and women.

There is almost always sexual tension between the sexes and flirting is a safe, easy way to relieve it.

Once in awhile in a drunken stooper I may have succumbed to flirting gone haywire, but not since I was 20 something. My experience has been that the man usually pulls the first innuendo or suggestion.
Men are just wired differently, they don't know when to stop.
In all fairness I think it's more about the individual.

I flirt out of habit, for me it's a form of communication, it's fun, and it comes easily to me. I flirt with everybody, EVERYBODY! But, there are those who do not flirt. As if flirting will lead them to a dark seedy flop house where they are left to sneak out with all dignity gone. Usually these people also have no sense of humor. You need to be quick witted to be a good flirt.

Relationships change and sometimes disintegrate, if you can save anything from them, consider yourself lucky. Each one is very different and very unique. Enjoy every moment of each and don't have regrets.

Life is short, so flirt, the sky won't fall.

Is the House Still There?

I'm on the phone telling him I just got home and he says:
"Is the house still there?"

I know I'm forgetful lately but this is too much for my brain to comprehend.
Did we have a visit from aliens I was unaware of?
Did I forget a mortgage payment?
An explosion I missed on the news?

"Ah, yea, the house is still here."

Today he took the Little Tykes playhouse out of the back yard and onto the street, in search of new owners. I had been keeping it in hopes that someday it would be painted with that new fangled paint for plastic. I would then keep it looking quite delightful in my imaginary garden that I never work in anymore.

Sometimes I just need to let go.

"Oh, I was sure someone would take it."

(they did)

The Black Hole

Let me apologize ahead of time here, this is about depression. DUH!

If you read my blogs you know I suffer from it. Well the one I'm in now is not the suicide one, yes I am quite grateful for that! It is the I don't want to do anything, what's the point kind.

Yesterday I actually said "out loud" at the food market "what's the point of buying food everyone just eats it and then you have to buy more" Perhaps this is due to my financial situation which is rather bleek. But really isn't that a stupid thing to say?

I sit and feel guilty that I'm not being creative, so I force myself to do something creative that I loose interest in in fifteen minutes. Which makes me feel like a loser. I lie on the sofa watching some movie that I don't even enjoy because I think of what I SHOULD be doing.

I jot down numerous ideas and sketches of things I want to make. Which is where they stay...

in the notebook.

I need a miracle cure. I think you call it love.

In a Single Bound

I fold an Eggo, pour syrup in the middle and eat it taco style in three bites at the kitchen sink. 

I slurp, cat style, the entire cup of Kozy Shack pudding just with my tongue.

Using a few long pretzel logs I devour a bowl of ice cream.

I peel the entire banana before I eat it, any other way looks crude.

I eat Mallomars whole and suck Whopper Malted milk balls in my mouth until they dissolve.

I chew licorice free hand while I'm driving. 

When I get to the end of the Custard Ice Cream cone after I've made sure each little square is filled with ice cream... I shove it into my mouth in its entirety.

Why?

Because I enjoy the challenge.

Please Don't Send me Flowers Anymore

Towards the end of the relationship when you were not willing to admit defeat, while you were still hopeful.
Each Friday afternoon I would open my door and you would be standing there with flowers.

I had to carry the flowers home, so everyone would see what a wonderful guy you were. All I could think was, if you gave them to me on a Monday it would brighten my office all week. Now I have to drag them home, on the train, hope the cats don't knock them over in the vase, and then throw them out after they wilt and die.

I told you I didn't like gladiolus, but you continued to buy them anyway. Who were you buying them for?

I dated a young man who bought me carnations each week, the kind they dye different colors. I was such a romantic I would press each flower from the bouquet in a book, lay them out on a piece of colored cardboard and frame them. I had the framed flowers in my room until he broke my heart. Then I replaced the flowers with magazine covers that Woody Allen had appeared on.

Flowers are lovely, but they die. 
I used to think it was wrong to cut them and put them in a vase.
Truth is they die on the bush, the stem or the vine just as quickly.

Maybe better to just draw me a picture.

Death in the Title

In the book of life people die everyday. The young and the old, the sick and the healthy, the rich and the poor. We all live to die. I have fantasized that if I was ever given a specific "sentence" I would use my credit cards to travel and buy stuff for people, but would I? I think I would sit around and watch sad movies and not answer my phone.

Death effects the survivors, not the dead, that is why it is so tragic when a young person dies. We loose the privilege of seeing who they would have become. Parents are childless, children become orphaned and we question over and over again why.

The chapters of my life have been filled with death since I was a child and I have come to accept it. I can't remember the last time I cried when someone died, but I can still see my Grandmother throwing herself onto the grave of my Father.

I think people who outwardly show the most suffering are the ones who inwardly feel the most guilt. I'm not judging, nor am I saying to be so demonstrative as my Grandmother was, equals guilt. I just think that those who are able to express love to the living seem less likely to grieve so dramatically when they're gone. It seems they need to prove their love to themselves and anyone who will pay attention. It makes me sad.

I will be cremated, I want no service. I want to leave quietly while people are just going about with living. If you want to say something to me, say it now. Waiting helps no one.

We'll both regret it but I'll be dead, so you'll be the bigger loser.

The Elephant

There was a young man who could make his hand walk and talk like an elephant. Well, in reality his mouth made the elephant sound, but it didn't really matter. The elephant would walk across the table, lift it's trunk in various directions and heights as if to smell the air for your presence. Once it found you it would sniff and make funny noises and somehow emote joy in the find.

Not every person lacks the inhibition it takes to enjoy this form of play. Luckily for me I knew someone who could. This small gesture would always make me laugh and lift my spirits. I'm sure the elephant grew tired of performing, as did the young man.

One day the young man put his hand in his pocket and got up and left. It must be stressful to achieve the same level of excellence day in and day out. Perhaps someone stopped believing in his worth so he stopped believing too.

Small gifts like this are precious.

As a child I saw real elephants dressed in silly outfits doing tricks at the circus.
I know I did because my parents told me I did.

I have no memory of those elephants.

She, Me, We

To look at us, you would see no common ground. She is tall, I am small. She is young, I am old. She is black, I am white. It has been four years now that we have shared our office space and our lives.

When I first met her, I was a bit intimidated. She is very strong and firm in her beliefs and proud of her culture. Unlike myself. I will not discuss religion or politics, and am quite secretive about my families beginnings and traditions.

Sharing a small space day in and day out leads to intimacy. We tell stories, new and old, funny and sad, and marvel at our similarities. Stories of family, men, betrayals, dreams, children, travels, experiences. Stories of life.

She has much more faith than I do, she believes her body and spirit need to be nourished, she believes in a higher power. I find her inspirational. I am the older one, she calls me "wise" but I still don't know what I believe in.

I do believe friendship is a gift. I do believe that people come and go from our lives for a reason. Whether this women is here to teach, comfort, or guide me. I love the way she says things and the way she thinks. We make each other laugh as the days pass. Some days she calls me foolish, some days I call her the fool.

She is my friend. Forever.