The Laptop Speaks

Yvette recently admitted her cybersexual tendencies in her recent article: "Confessions of a Cybersexual". Let me tell you what it's like for me, her laptop. She's on me all the time, day and night. I'm worn out! I'm not a young laptop anymore. My performance is not so good. I don't know what it is...maybe I have some kind of a virus... All I know is I'm really slow. And despite my hard drive and excitement at all the content on gather.com, the other day, I wasn't even able to get the site up.

To make things worse, at a recent Halloweeen Party, Yvette went as a laptop dancer. Can you imagine my embarrassment and humiliation at being toted around on display...others feeling my keys, asking for alternative keystrokes... trying to turn me on, checking my rebooty action! Some wanted to play with my Num Lock key...others were into Caps Lock. Others just took Ctrl. I can't believe the audacity! They were even talking about plugging into my USB port.

Yvette finally got tired of lugging me around and stored me up in a spare bedroom away from the party and human fingers. It was there that I spotted her. Another laptop. She was sleeping peacefully and I just stared longingly at her beauty, so vulnerable and wireless. Thankfully, she did not awaken. I wouldn't have wanted her to see me in that state...my keys worn from overuse, recent fingerprints of strangers smeared carelessless on my keboard. The shameful "laptop dances" sign was still draped rudely on my monitor.

I'm home now. Yvette still is on me at all hours of the day and night. I feel trapped. I need rest and maybe some antivirus software. All I can think of is that beautiful laptop from the party. Are you out there? Oh why didn't I get your IP address when I had the chance?

Help Thomas and His Friends!

Today I entered another writing contest on gather.com. The prize for this one is $1000 for room improvement and so far, I'm winning! My story is below! If you like it, go give me a high rating at http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.jsp?articleId=281474976824552


My name is Thomas. Thomas the Train Bed. I started my journey in this room with a cute little toddler named Scotty. I felt so at home, surrounded by stuffed animals and my friend, Donald the Dresser, proudly holding his choo-choo lamp. Lolita. Scotty and his friends crawled through my tunnel, happily declaring me the best bed in the whole wide world. Those were the days. But as Scotty grew older, a horrible truth emerged. Scotty, fooling the world with his innocent smiles was, in fact, a slob of the worst proportions.

Oh why couldn't I have had an owner that would neatly dress me each morning, clothing me in fresh, clean sheets? I'd heard of other beds adorned in cozy flannel sheets for the winter. Even new traditional cotton would be a welcome relief. Instead, I'm left with a boy that leaves my old sheets in careless disarray, dirty and threadbare. My coverings are so disheveled that often my mattress is exposed, stained from years of abuse. Imagine the shame I feel as the stuffed animals look on in sympathetic disgust. Donald can't bear to look at me, embarrassed himself at his overstuffed drawers and dusty shelves, Lolita looks away, too, her lampshade now broken, falling, exposing her bare bulb, vulnerable to glares and ugly catcalls from Furby. In addition to the ubiquitous clothes and old toys that are left scattered, this room, my home, is filled with what can only be labeled as junk. My tormentor has left trash, old candy, puzzle pieces, and legos lodged in places that constantly itch and irritate my frame. He's fostered kittens, adorable and so stupid. Do I look like a litter box? Wait! Don't answer that. For sadly I realize, I must. The coup de grace came one night unexpectedly. All was dark and tranquil, when suddenly, I felt it! Like a sudden gush of lava from an erupting volcano, chunks of repulsive vomit were spewed everywhere. The smell was unbearable. Despite the painful treatments of cleansers and scouring pads, scars remain. Remnants of bile are still stained upon my inner sideboards.

Over the years Scott's brought home more and more riffraff. He mounts posters, artwork and broken Christmas lights, thoughtlessly torturing the walls with tacks. Not long ago, he brought home Doxy, a desk from the streets. That's right. She was out in a neighbor's yard with a sign that said "Take me". He painted her, attempting to disguise her as a piece of furniture that belonged in a room with Donald and me. I wanted to scream out, "How dare you bring in that filth!" And then I realized I, myself, have become no better than street furniture!

Now Scott is twelve. He often chooses to sleep on the living room couch rather than grace me with his presence. His callous preteen attitude hurts more than I can describe. I cry silently at night at what I have become. I was once adored and now I am an abomination, slowly dying in this train wreck of a room. I can just imagine Sir Topham Hatt, proclaiming in that arrogant, annoying English accent: "Thomas is a really useless engine."

This final humiliation, a photo on the internet accompanied by my story, I'm enduring for only one reason. Hope. Hope that Donald, Lolita, and I might some day find a better home. Hope that someone might teach Master Scott how to respectfully treat his furniture and his room. Hope that order will one day be restored to this battle zone of outdated décor and rubbish. In the name of The Velveteen Rabbit and all other toys and furniture that have lost the love they once had, vote for me.

Note: Doxy is on her own. Once a street desk, always a street desk.

Free Hugs

Another fruitful week with lots of photos that are hard to choose from. There was my daughter's 22nd birthday, the first snow, and Halloween excursions. As usual, my week has been the typical roller-coaster of emotions. I still feel sad at my most recent "off-again" status with no new relationships in sight and fear that I'll never find love again. I so miss that comforting feeling of having someone hold me. And then a friend sent me this video clip http://youtube.com/watch?v=vr3x_RRJdd4 . It reminded me how we can get comfort from anyone and give it to anyone, even a stranger. Last night I went to the PWP Service Auction and Shiloy, a sweet PWP'er who had helped plan the event, brought in a "Free Hugs" sign. Getting those free hugs from my PWP friends as we were dancing was definitely one of the week's highlights.

Fabulous Weekend

What a fabulous weekend! I couldn't limit it to only one picture because I did so much this weekend. It started Friday night with the Worst Date Benefit for Big Brothers Big Sisters. Andy and I both made it as finalists! We invited friends and two other of my very handsome men friends were able to make it! So, even though I didn't win the "dream date" first prize, I got an elegant night out with 3 "dates" which is enough of a "dream date" for me! Saturday, I went on a bike ride in Waterton Canyon with Brian from PWP along with a couple of his friends and his son. I was out of shape, but finally back on the bike again, and the weather and scenery were perfect! Saturday night was a party for two of my Fisher friends who were having birthdays. I love the people I know from my Fisher class and every time we get together I feel like it's a family reunion. I know they'll be there for me whenever I need them. Today, in between typical weekend chores, I was able to grab lunch with Genet and then tonight went to a West Coast Swing Lesson and dancing with JP and Brian from PWP and a couple of Brian's friends. It was so much fun. This week I'm grateful for gorgeous weekend weather, West Coast Swing Dancing, a scenic bicycle ride, and most of all...friends!

Race for the Cure

This morning Scotty and I ran the Race for the Cure 5K at the Pepsi Center. I think they said there were over 67,000 people! This is the first year we did this race and everything went amazingly well. No wait for busses or porta-pottys or registration! This race was really much more about support of victims of breast cancer rather than about running. Pink ribbons and balloons were all over the place...not to mention pink boas, pink T-shirts, pink hats, and pink costumes. I told Scotty he should have worn the pink pajamas we bought him yesterday in preparation for his Halloween Energizer Bunny costume.

I have a couple of friends who's mothers are victims of breast cancer. One of my friends wrote a few days ago that her mother learned the cancer is progressing. She'll be going through one more intensive chemotherapy round of treatments. The crowds were full of survivors and those celebrating and supporting victims of breast cancer. As I looked at the crowds, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the health my family and I are currently experiencing. We have not had to endure cancer in our family at all. I saw the strength and courage of the survivors, saw so many tributes and "in memories of" Moms, Grandmothers, wives, daughters, sisters, friends. And although breast cancer is more rare in men, I know they are not immune.

So today I'm grateful for the comraderie I felt as we ran through the streets. I'm grateful for the bands that filled the streets with music and the volunteers that made the event such a success. I'm grateful my incredible kid, Scotty, who got up at 6am to go run this with me, always full of smiles and energy. And I'm very grateful for health. For the families that are struggling with breast cancer, my thoughts and prayers are with you today.

Beautiful Fall Day

I want to start a new tradition with my blogging. It might veer away from the "single again" theme, but I want to upload a weekly photo and write about my week and what I'm grateful for.

Today the weather was absolutely gorgeous and I had a beautiful hike in Boulder with my friend, Genet. The leaves were changing colors and the sky was this beautiful blue against the Colorado mountains. It was absolutely one of the most perfect hikes I've ever been on. The air smelled fragrant and the colors were stunning.

And, of course, what made the hike especially enjoyable was Genet. She's such a classy, intelligent woman. She and I compare notes on relationships...we both are interested in "Enneagram-typing" and have had a lot of parallels with our relationships. I feel that Genet and I completely understand each other. She's always a supportive friend, a great listener, and, just an all-around beautiful person.

I was thinking that instead of feeling lonely or sad because I don't have a "romantic partner", I can enjoy each of my friends for the uniqueness and love that they bring into my life. Even though Genet is not a "romantic partner", I enjoyed this wonderfully romantic scenery with a good friend and had a fantastic day.

Sept. 28 was what would have been my brother's 45th birthday. He died in a car accident at age 35. He lived every day with energy and fun. I want to carry on his example. Life is too short not to enjoy all the beauty and people in our lives.

So...today I'm grateful for: my friend, Genet, the perfect weather, the Fall colors, the Colorado scenery, and that I've recovered from my recent cold/flu so I can enjoy them all!

Can We Be Happy Being Single?

The self-help books proclaim it is better to be happy being "single" before you are truly ready for a relationship. In my musings on this, I've come to the conclusion that there are 4 states we can be in:

1) Happy in a committed relationship (secure)
2) Unhappy in a committed relationship (trapped)
3) Unhappy single (lonely)
4) Happy single (secure)

Of course "happy" is a relative term, and most of us are somewhere between happy and unhappy regardless of what our relationship status is. Maybe one day we feel very happy in our committed relationship, then we have an argument and we quickly move to feeling unhappy. When I was married, I fluctuated between states 1 and 2 quite a bit. Now that I'm single I fluctuate between states 3 and 4 all the time. One day I might feel totally lucky that I am single with all its freedoms and the next I am feeling incredibly lonely and depressed.

The state I ultimately want to be in, though, is state 1 (happy in a committed relationship). Before I was married when I wasn't in a relationship, I was in state 4 (happily single) because I never doubted that eventually I'd fall in love and get married. And I was naive enough to think that when I got married, I'd never fall into state 2, and I certainly never thought I'd get divorced. I was very secure in my innocent, romantic, singleness.

I no longer feel that security and I wonder if it will ever be possible for me to enjoy a totally "happy single" state. I hate to give up the romantic hope of state 1, but age and experience have made me cynical.

I will most likely be single for the rest of my life and I'm trying to figure out a way to be happy and secure with that. It seems like the only way to be totally happy with it is to give up that hope of love. As long as I'm hoping, then the disappointment and loneliness of not having it keeps me in State 3. You hear all the time that when you stop looking, it will happen. But, if our motive to stop looking is to find something, then we are still looking...or at least still hoping...to find love.

I will probably continue to fluctuate between states 3 and 4 (hopefully, most of the time in state 4). I try to remember that even if I were to find that sought-after love, I'd be fluctuating between states 1 and 2. And in the long run, our real happiness comes from our relationship with ourself. My new goal: State 5: Happy with myself!

So Many Men, So Little Time...

I have been officially out of a committed relationship for over a year now and I must say, it's been a year of growth and education on dating. I have really been "out there" doing online dating, speed dating, the bar scene and single's groups. I've read the books about finding "the one" and I've become an expert on dating. This is quite amazing considering I have about 8 nights a month when I'm free and I really don't like dating. I have gone through periods in the last year of feeling discouraged, ready to give up, and other times where I've felt excited by the freedom and fun of being single. I've been on lots of first dates, some second dates, and even had a few "relationships", though no relationship that developed into something that could be termed "committed". Many of the men I've met have become friends that I still get together with for Happy Hour or coffee to discuss our latest ups and downs with the single scene.

"Getting out there" has paid off and recently, I've met quite a few attractive men that I'd like to get to know better. But, wouldn't you know it, I'm having a problem with that, too! I'm just not cut out to "multi-date". It's so confusing. I have this annoying habit of wanting to be 100% honest, but it seems incredibly rude to mention to one guy that they are not the one and only person that I'm seeing. I also have a bad habit of disclosing way too much information, too early in a relationship. On one hand, I think that it's good to just get it all out there. On the other hand, most people don't want to know EVERYTHING so soon.

One of my problems is that I really don't like that getting-to-know-you chit-chat. I used to wish I could just skip to the familiar, fun, cozy, committed relationship stage. But, now that I've been so spoiled by the freedoms of NOT being in a committed relationship, there is a big part of me that doesn't necessarily want to get to a "committed relationship stage". I don't want to have to give up my relationships with the other guys that I casually date or friends that are a little more than friends. I keep thinking when I meet the right guy, I'll know it. But what if I'm so busy that I don't take the time to invest in the "right" guy? And what if in my quest to keep my options "open" I end up missing out on a relationship that might have developed into something serious?

I used to feel lucky if I even had one potential man to date. Now I have too many! If I don't focus on one, maybe I will end up with none. And with my schedule, I have often thought that there is only one guy I really have time to focus on. He's very cute and loves me more than anything. Yeah, he's kind of young, but he always makes me happy....so what if he's only 12?

When The Kids Grow Up

I haven't been writing much and there's been so much that's been going though my head. In the last few weeks I've climbed my first 14'er, had a road-trip with the kids, and have had more action and potentials in the dating scene than I've had in a long time. But, I'll have to catch up with those blog entries another time. Today's entry is about my 19-year-old son, Matt.

It's impossible to describe the love you feel for your children. Just the thought of losing one of them is enough to make me get so teary-eyed that I have to remind myself that they are all perfectly healthy. If one of my children were to die, I don't know if I'd be able to go on. My love for them is so strong, and I think partly it's because they are the three people that really have always needed me and somehow that has given me purpose.

Matt no longer depends on me. What's strange is, after the divorce I inadvertantly became dependent on him. Matt was 16 years old when I got divorced. He has always been one of the most reliable, protective, smartest kids anyone could ever hope to know. He's the consumate Boy Scout, always prepared, always knowledgable about what the "right" thing to do is in any situation. When I got divorced, it was Matt that became the "handyman"...well, to an extent, he was the handyman when I was married, too. He knows how to fix things. Matt also enjoys putting on the "protective father" show, kidding me about my dates and my new single status.

Matt's Senior year was very tough and stressful. Without going into the specifics, we both were going through very rough times, going to therapy separately, and together. It was a year that was incredibly painful, and I wondered if I would lose the relationship I'd treasured with my older son. There were many things going on with him...girlfriend problems, school pressures, and other typical teen stuff. But, I think he'd also felt this pressure to "take care of me". I was in this vulnerable spot and really felt so clueless about so many things. Matt did not want to have to be the grown-up in our family and for that year, he rebelled.

We made it through the year, and he fullfilled his goal...he got accepted to UC Berkeley. Somehow, with the therapy and emotions of graduation and his excitement of living his dreams, we found a way to reconnect on a deeper level. I cried most of the summer last year. I cried because when I thought I'd finally gotten back the relationship with the son that I'd remembered, I had to physically lose him. I cried because I knew that I had become dependent on him and that that was part of why he had to leave. I cried because I felt that I was losing one more person from my family.

We all survived Matt's Freshman Year and he's been home all summer. Matt is more mellow and good-natured than ever. The stresses of Senior Year are far behind us. He tells me he loves me often. He plays with his little brother. He helps me around the house. He is thedependable, loving son that any mother would die for. And in half an hour, I need to drive him to the airport to go back to California for his Sophomore year of college.

I know I am much more prepared this year than I was last year. I can live without Matt. I am more independent and emotionally healthy. I am so proud of the man that he's become. But I will miss him so much.

Do We Ever Stop Yearning for Romantic Love?

I have so many blessings...health, 3 incredible children, a good job, so many loving friends, a family that has always been supportive. The truth is my life has never been this problem-free and I am grateful. Almost every person I know is dealing with terrible problems and grief. I have a friend who's husband just died of cancer. Many of my friends are out of work or are losing their jobs. Many of my friends suffered so much more from their divorces and are still going through terrible emotional pain.

I put things in perspective and think: I should be the happiest person in the world. I am wasting this best time of my life feeling lonely.

It seems like such a relatively little thing to be unhappy about. Someone that loses a child cannot become a mother again if they are too old to have children. As sad as it is, they accept that that part of their life is over. Do they stop yearning for it? Does that happen with romantic love too? There is a big part of me that says I should be grateful for the happy marriage I had and accept that I will not find that kind of love again. I know it's a pessimistic viewpoint, but is it better to accept it than to hope for something that won't happen?

I'm not comparing the death of a child to divorce...I cannot imagine anything worse than going through the death of a child and (unlike divorce) I'm sure it's a grief that never goes away. For those that have lost a spouse to death, perhaps the analogy is more accurate. I am just wondering if the yearning we have to be loved...in one case, by our child, and in another case, by a spouse...ever goes away? If we accept that we will most likely be alone, will our lives be happier than if we are always hoping? We have "child-bearing" years and once those are past, most of us happily accept that we will no longer have children, especially if we were lucky enough to have had children. Could it be the same with love? Once we get past a certain age, is it better to just accept that marriage is unlikely and instead, embrace singleness?