It’s the eve of my 43rd birthday and despite the horror that best case scenario, half my life is over, birthdays don’t really bother me that much. In fact, most of the time most people are surprised I’m over 40. Either they are terrible at estimating ages or I’m immature enough to pull off “younger”.
But this year, something is different. For some reason, reality has hit the fan, so to speak. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m still companionless, yet another birthday, and no significant other to share it with. Or just the reality of how many things I have waited too long to do.
It’s a cautionary tale really. I don’t like repeating myself, like the conversational recaps that television shows do to make sure the audience is all caught up. Reign is a hyper re-capper. Every time Mary Queen of Scots refers to her mother, she calls her by her full name. Ten episodes in, she’s still doing it. It annoys the crap out of me, but recap I will.
The recap is this and there’s a little TMI here, so brace yourself. But I am including it for a reason. I am including it for all those who have experienced a physical or sexual assault and have isolated themselves as a result.
In my mid-twenties, I experienced a sexual assault. It was my first sexual experience, so you can imagine that it super-sized the already tatters of my trust after a pretty awful childhood... can you say ISSUES?
Well, that was the end of any social experiences until I turned 40. When I did, a serious mid-life crisis hit me and I decided I wanted to live again, but I honestly had no idea how. I like to research things, so I did. I read books, articles, blogs, got advice. I truly had no idea how to date, what to expect, and how to be normal. I had only had three romantic kisses in my entire life, all before the assault, so between the age of 16 and 20. So, not only was I up a creek without a schema, I was also scared to death.
I was scared of being physically close to someone for fear it would invite another assault. I was afraid of being physically and emotionally hurt again. It took me 20 years to pull myself together after it happened. I was also scared of just being out of my depth. I didn’t know how to do anything. I hadn’t hugged or kissed a man in over twenty years. I hadn’t held anyone’s hand. I hadn’t had a date. Imagine an alien in a strange land who had no “normal” reference for the human courting or mating ritual. I was a strange girl in a strange land.
What normal people don’t realize is that they’ve generally had the experiences that I started having in my 40’s, in their teens and twenties.
And of course, then there’s internet dating. I don’t drink, except for an occasional margarita with my girlfriend’s, and I didn’t do sports, so where the hell was I going to meet anyone?
So, how do you figure all of this out while trying not be catatonically scared every time? Well... I just kept trying and failing and trying again and faking it a little. Sometimes, I ran, as fast as I could. Some times, I jumped in... and then ran, my little voice screaming WHAT WERE YOU THINKING! Let me just say, there are frogs, frogs everywhere. I’m sure that there are plenty of frog women as well, I am an equal opportunity disparager after all. But trust me, there are frogs.
Most of the time I didn’t have to figure anything out because it was a quick coffee and “I wish you well.” But then, I met a man I was attracted to and the feeling was mutual, thank god! At least for a little while, I didn’t have to feel like such a loser. But when I asked him to slow down, he was talking about buying a house close to me by the third date, he somehow translated that to “she just wants to be my friend with benefits.” Unfortunately, he didn’t tell me this was the translation, so we saw each other for a couple months, very casually. Him, more casually than me, that’s the unfortunate part. I had no idea I was just a friend with benefits. Increasingly confused, I thought maybe I would just be direct. I told him I would like to see him more if he felt the same way. This was in a text, another unfortunately... His response. “Sorry.” Hmm?? What did that mean? I had no idea. Sorry, I missed that? Sorry, I am lost? Sorry, I don’t speak English? Sorry, I have no balls to just tell you I don't want to see you anymore? I had no idea... So, I went to Facebook to see if he could chat. Why on earth I didn't just call, I have no idea. I guess Facebook seemed easier than texting and... Ummm... Let’s see, a picture of the guy I was seeing, snuggled up with a blonde, celebrating New Year’s Eve... which was the day before. The caption... something like “I’ve met someone so special, I can’t wait to see where the new year takes us!” Granted, this isn’t verbatim, but seriously, this is close.
Wow... WOW... Honestly? I felt like my frontal lobe imploded. I felt like an idiot. I truly had no idea he was seeing someone else or had even thought about seeing someone else, or had even thought about anything, I guess, because apparently, I didn’t know him at all. I felt used and confused and had no idea what was happening or why anyone would do that to another human being. I would have never done that, no matter how casual the relationship. It’s just so disrespectful and kind of mean. It sounds a little old-school, I know it’s 2014 and all, but if I even kiss someone, that’s it for me! I don’t mean instant “head over heels”, I just mean, when you touch someone else’s lips with your own, you owe it to each other to see where it goes. If it’s one date, so be it. You shouldn’t be kissing anyone else until you actually tell the other person it’s over, don’t you think? You shouldn't keep kissing someone when you've started kissing someone else! Is it just me?
Well, after licking my wounds for a while and with a lot of encouragement from my amazing friends, I got myself back out there and started making coffee dates again. More frogs. Frogs wanting a friend with benefits, frogs sending me penis pictures as soon as I trusted them enough to give them my number, married frogs, lying frogs, “open relationship” frogs. I was so exhausted by the end of it, I was ready to give up. Truly ready. I had been defeated, my spirit was completely broken. I had no hope of finding someone. So, I logged into my account ready to delete it and just resigned myself to life alone. I wasn’t happy about it, but it didn’t feel like I had a choice. And alone was familiar. I had reviewed all the options in head and so far was batting 1,000 frogs. Forgive me, I’m not sure if that sports analogy actually works because I’m a sports idiot, but you get the picture. Statistically, I was on the ropes.
Now, let me be clear. I am not the girl who can’t stand being alone so to avoid it, she seeks out any human with boy parts to call boyfriend. Remember, I’ve been alone from age 20 to age 40... technically, 42. And I should include most of my childhood in that as well. I am also not the girl who is in love with the idea of being in love. I’m just not. I think love is messy, relationships can be hard and yes, the experts are probably right, they are work and compromise. I believe that, I just haven’t had an opportunity to test the experts advice. I’m also not the damsel in distress looking for a sugar-daddy to pay her bills. I pay my own bills, thank you. I work on my own car... ok, sometimes, and I have no problem wearing the pants in my family of one. What I am after, is none of these things. I simply am at the point in my life where I finally have the courage to try to share it with someone else. I want to let someone in and vice versa. I want to make someone dinner and snuggle and watch movies and go for walks and go for long drives and go to dinner and go camping (there's a lot of on the go here, do you see the theme?) and build a life and have true intimacy. I want a partner and a friend and a lover. I want to be happy with someone, not just by myself. In fact, I desperately want to let someone into my life and be a part of theirs. I'm starting to think that being a part of theirs is even more important me because I've never really felt like a part of anything... I've always felt like an outsider looking in. Even before the assault.
So... back to the previous paragraph. I logged in to delete my account and scrolling across the bottom of the fish market were pictures of local eligible, or so they say, bachelors. There was a face that caught my eye. Handsome in a cuddly, kind sort of way and so familiar. But I couldn’t place him. Distracted by this shiny object, I clicked “favorite” or something like that. I logged out and forgot to delete my account... And later, he wrote me...
Long story short, we saw each other for 7 months. The best 6 months of my life. The last month, he was more and more withdrawn and I didn’t want to bring up the elephant in the room, so I just smiled and hoped for the best. I won’t tell you the whole story, that’s for us to know. But I will tell you, I’ve been crying since Valentine’s Day, literally. And I don’t say literally, lightly! I can’t seem to stop and today it’s particularly bad. It goes without saying, I hate Valentine’s with a new vehemence I didn’t think was possible. Next V-day, I’m just going to light something on fire or sacrifice a virgin or something and call it good.
So... I’ve strayed off topic a little bit and really what I wanted to say and who I wanted to say it to, is this:
To anyone, man or woman, who has experienced a physical or sexual assault, please don’t spend your whole life “checked out”. You didn’t expect that, did you? I mean it hasn’t exactly worked out for me and as of this moment, while I’m writing this, I am crying so hard I can barely see... but the result is not what you’re after. Please trust me on this. There are good people out there that are worth getting to know. There are people who give you amazing memories and help you to grow. (I was having a Suess moment, forgive me).
I wouldn’t trade all 7 of those months, even the weird one, for anything. I would give anything, my 401k perhaps, to have them back. I was happy. Happier than I ever thought I could be. I finally understood what it felt like to be loved, what it felt like to be wanted, and even what it felt like to have an inside joke with someone. All new to me. And I felt like I had a future. Finally. Imagine that?
Don’t get me wrong, I had a hard time with so many things during this process. I was constantly nervous. The first time he came to my house, I was embarrassed by the state of it. The first time I made him dinner, I spent the whole night hoping I didn’t make him sick. The first few nights that he stayed over, I was afraid to sleep in the bed. For those of you judging the “staying over part”, CAN it! I’m over 40 and Puritan values just don’t apply anymore. I wasn’t afraid of him, ever. It was the fact that I had never slept in a bed beside anyone, ever. I'm not using "sleeping with" as a euphemism here. I truly hadn't ever slept with anyone. For those who have experienced the trauma and loss of control that you do in an assault, you know what I’m talking about. You’re body does things without your permission. You startle easily, you automatically pull back even when that’s the last thing you want to do. Your body isn’t always “engaged”, and here I AM using a euphemism, in the activity if you know what I mean. The "you know what I mean" should clearly indicate a euphemism. See how that works? Your “fight or flight” switch goes on willy-nilly and when it does, you have to stop or fake it until you make it.
So, the first few nights I'd sneak out of bed and sleep on the couch. I felt bad about doing it. He felt bad too. He thought it was his fault. I don’t think he realized how scared I really was and I couldn’t explain it without him thinking it really was his fault, so I just told him it wasn’t him. It really really wasn’t. I wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with him and fall asleep. I felt content with him and safe. And safe meant a great deal to me. But at first, being able to fall asleep with him felt like the Holy Grail. Then, the first night I did stay in the bed, I woke us both by screaming myself awake from a nightmare. Again, I explained this away with a tale of stress and anxiety, but I remember the nightmare vividly to this day. It was of the man who assaulted me, on top of me and choking me. Now, my assault was not violent, as violence goes anyway, although it was a violation of my body. He didn't choke me or anything like that. But I was completely mute during the experience. I couldn't stop him with a "no!" because my voice was gone. I've always felt like he took my voice and that was worse than taking my virginity. I was a victim of “date-rape” without the date part. He was just a friend visiting my apartment when things went all wrong. But I couldn’t tell this amazing, kind, handsome man next to me that the anxiety and vulnerability of being asleep in the same bed as another human being had manifested this nightmare. He would know I was too broken.
And this is silly, but not only was I afraid of all those things, I was afraid of waking up looking like Yoda after a three-day binge next to the man I was falling in love with. The fear of him running for the door was almost too much to bear and I would end up getting up in the middle of the night to dab on a little makeup and comb my hair. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? It sounds so vain, but it was the farthest thing from vanity, I swear.
Even though a truckload of Prozac wouldn’t have cured any of these anxieties, I didn’t want to give any of them up and I wouldn’t have missed any of them for the world.
Six years ago I had given up. I was ready to spend the rest of my life alone. In fact, I was ready to give up on life altogether. But I didn’t. I got another dog so I had something to take care of. Something that I couldn’t leave behind and that, his name is Hairy, kept me going. He kept me going until my spirit finally said, ENOUGH! Get on with it! Stop existing and LIVE!
And no matter how hard the last 6 or so years have been, no matter how scary or difficult the experiences, I am still here. None of them killed me. I'm a little worse for wear. Very tender-hearted at the moment and licking more wounds and racking up more metaphorical scars than I care to have, but I'm still here!
What I’m telling you is, you don’t have to give up. You can believe in love, you can find it, even if it’s only for a brief period of time. It DOES exist. I’ve felt it. You can trust someone with your heart and your mind and your body. The right person will cherish them all even if they don't cherish them forever. You just have to find that person. It might be more than one person, each helping you heal a little at a time. It takes some work and there will be heart break. Sometimes it’s nearly unbearable. But you can sit next to someone again and maybe even hold their hand. You can hug them or better yet, LET someone hug you. You can have another kiss. And my hope is that you get a kiss that makes your toes tingle. You can lay in bed and talk and laugh with someone. You can be whole again.
There are no guarantees in life. I’m not sure I will ever be able to try for another relationship again. I’m just not sure at this point, everything is still too raw. But chances are, after a little time passes, I will probably try at some point. I’ve discovered that the point of life is to try. That’s all we can do... But when it works out, when you have a moment, even if it’s just one brief moment of happiness, all the pain and sadness and struggle are worth it. Trust me, you’ll see.
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Friday, May 2, 2014
Monday, March 31, 2014
From the Inside Out
So, being 20 years behind in the dating game is incredibly hard. I am most literally up a creek without a schema. Until recently, I’ve never had a romantic relationship. I’ve had potential relationships, usually one date and we, either/or, decide that nah, we’ll move on. I’ve had a few online relationships--which are just basically a lot of texting. But those usually end with a disappearing act or him going back to his ex. Oh, and then there are the guys who send random penis pictures and trust me, I do not request them! I also have a knack for setting potential suitors on the path to their “real true love of their life”. It seems just by meeting me for coffee, I set the fates in motion. I am a powerful woman!
In May of this year, I’ll be 43 years old. To have had one, solitary, all too brief relationship in the span of over 20 years of adulthood is a little abnormal, let’s face it. It’s also a little depressing.
There are times that these facts fill me with regret, but then I remember that all of our experiences throughout life, good or bad, make us who we are. And who we are is important. I have some not my finest moments moments. Things of which I am definitely not proud, but overall I believe I am a strong, loving, kind and resilient person. I’m creative, I believe in my talent and my tenacity. Most of all, I like my brain, even when it replays the things that I regret over and over in an effort to keep me up at night.
Having said that, I am UBER-HYPER-SUPER AWARE of every one of my thousands of flaws and shortcomings. That in itself is a shortcoming when you are trying to become an us. But that's who I am. Very self-aware, most of the time.
I’ve spent most of my life just observing people. The upside to observing as opposed to participating in life is that I think I have a deeper understanding of what’s important in life and to me than a lot of people. For instance, I see couples arguing all the time about who should’ve emptied the garbage, who loaded the dishwasher wrong, who forgot to pay the bills. Yes, bills need to be paid and dishes need to get done, but stop bitching at each other about it... SERIOUSLY! Do the dishes yourself (both of you) and don’t complain if they aren’t done the way you’d do them. Be done with it, it's not important!
In my last relationship, my significant other took the garbage out for me. We didn’t live together, he had just come over to see me, so this definitely wasn’t his responsibility. He hadn’t contributed to any of the garbage in the bag. But when he took it out, I didn’t ask-he just did it, I almost jumped up and down. No one had ever taken out the garbage for me. EVER. I seriously appreciated it so much that I wanted to do something, anything for him. Not because I wanted to pay him back, but just because he had been so thoughtful.
It seems simple to just appreciate each other. Look for any little thing each day for which to say thank you. Don’t get lost in the stress and chaos of everyday life and lose those little moments that you’ll never forget. Trust me.
Here’s the thing... Until 7 months ago, I had no idea what it even felt like to sit on the couch with someone and snuggle through a movie. Now I do. Now that my relationship is over, it’s actually a little painful to think of those moments, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Those moments made me feel real, they made me feel loved. And that is something that made my life whole.
My analogy is this... when you're blind, sound, smell, touch become amplified. They say that your other senses compensate for the lack of sight. Lack of touch and belonging are kind of the same thing... When you go 15 years without touch, touch becomes more intense. Almost overwhelming at times. Your heart leaps with joy when someone simply holds your hand. You belong.
For the most part, this is a blessing. I have learned to appreciate the kindness and joy that defines you when someone hugs or snuggles with you. I don’t care what kind of car you have or job you do. I’m just happy. In fact my heart thumps with joy at those little things.
But it’s also a curse. It’s a curse because a lot of people, those in my dating age range in particular don’t really feel the same way. These gestures have become routine, casual, almost absent-minded. They are anything but that to me.
My first relationship has ended and I haven’t completely worked through the grief of that. I have to admit, its hit me like Thor’s hammer. I cared deeply for this person for many reasons. Loved him with all my heart, in fact. At this point, I can only hope that someday I will be able to move on. Frankly, I’m not sure anyone will ever compare to him. It’s not that he was perfect. He had just as many flaws as me, I just didn’t care. None of them bothered me. He was the first person I truly wanted to let in. The first person I would kick Hairy off the bed for.
But I will continue to hope that I can move on eventually. I’m mostly hoping that I can move on before I hit my sixties, because let’s face it, it’s all fun and games until someone breaks a hip!
But when I am ready, I would like him to know this:
In May of this year, I’ll be 43 years old. To have had one, solitary, all too brief relationship in the span of over 20 years of adulthood is a little abnormal, let’s face it. It’s also a little depressing.
There are times that these facts fill me with regret, but then I remember that all of our experiences throughout life, good or bad, make us who we are. And who we are is important. I have some not my finest moments moments. Things of which I am definitely not proud, but overall I believe I am a strong, loving, kind and resilient person. I’m creative, I believe in my talent and my tenacity. Most of all, I like my brain, even when it replays the things that I regret over and over in an effort to keep me up at night.
Having said that, I am UBER-HYPER-SUPER AWARE of every one of my thousands of flaws and shortcomings. That in itself is a shortcoming when you are trying to become an us. But that's who I am. Very self-aware, most of the time.
I’ve spent most of my life just observing people. The upside to observing as opposed to participating in life is that I think I have a deeper understanding of what’s important in life and to me than a lot of people. For instance, I see couples arguing all the time about who should’ve emptied the garbage, who loaded the dishwasher wrong, who forgot to pay the bills. Yes, bills need to be paid and dishes need to get done, but stop bitching at each other about it... SERIOUSLY! Do the dishes yourself (both of you) and don’t complain if they aren’t done the way you’d do them. Be done with it, it's not important!
In my last relationship, my significant other took the garbage out for me. We didn’t live together, he had just come over to see me, so this definitely wasn’t his responsibility. He hadn’t contributed to any of the garbage in the bag. But when he took it out, I didn’t ask-he just did it, I almost jumped up and down. No one had ever taken out the garbage for me. EVER. I seriously appreciated it so much that I wanted to do something, anything for him. Not because I wanted to pay him back, but just because he had been so thoughtful.
It seems simple to just appreciate each other. Look for any little thing each day for which to say thank you. Don’t get lost in the stress and chaos of everyday life and lose those little moments that you’ll never forget. Trust me.
Here’s the thing... Until 7 months ago, I had no idea what it even felt like to sit on the couch with someone and snuggle through a movie. Now I do. Now that my relationship is over, it’s actually a little painful to think of those moments, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Those moments made me feel real, they made me feel loved. And that is something that made my life whole.
My analogy is this... when you're blind, sound, smell, touch become amplified. They say that your other senses compensate for the lack of sight. Lack of touch and belonging are kind of the same thing... When you go 15 years without touch, touch becomes more intense. Almost overwhelming at times. Your heart leaps with joy when someone simply holds your hand. You belong.
For the most part, this is a blessing. I have learned to appreciate the kindness and joy that defines you when someone hugs or snuggles with you. I don’t care what kind of car you have or job you do. I’m just happy. In fact my heart thumps with joy at those little things.
But it’s also a curse. It’s a curse because a lot of people, those in my dating age range in particular don’t really feel the same way. These gestures have become routine, casual, almost absent-minded. They are anything but that to me.
My first relationship has ended and I haven’t completely worked through the grief of that. I have to admit, its hit me like Thor’s hammer. I cared deeply for this person for many reasons. Loved him with all my heart, in fact. At this point, I can only hope that someday I will be able to move on. Frankly, I’m not sure anyone will ever compare to him. It’s not that he was perfect. He had just as many flaws as me, I just didn’t care. None of them bothered me. He was the first person I truly wanted to let in. The first person I would kick Hairy off the bed for.
But I will continue to hope that I can move on eventually. I’m mostly hoping that I can move on before I hit my sixties, because let’s face it, it’s all fun and games until someone breaks a hip!
But when I am ready, I would like him to know this:
- If you don’t think I’m “the one” within a few weeks, you never will, so please let me go, do it in face-to-face and try to be kind about it.
- Be patient with me. I still don’t really know how these things are supposed to work and it’s so hard not to be terribly insecure about that.
- Tell me when I’m over-compensating. I know it can seem a little smothery, but I can't help it.
- Carry something for me without asking. If you ask, I will say “I got it”, and usually do, but the truth is that I would do anything for a little help.
- Don’t call me honey or hug me, or make any romantic gestures until and unless you mean it. I will think you mean it and I will be terribly confused when you yell “psych! I just wanna be friends!”
- Send flowers and only to me... unless it’s your mom or sis or niece. You get the idea.
- Kiss me hello every time you see me!
- Kiss me goodnight when we're together. If we're not, tell me goodnight instead.
- Just kiss me... a lot... if you’re taller than me, lean down. Standing on your tippy toes is awkward and I’m a clutz. I'm likely to kiss the bottom of your chin and then I'll feel like a dork and over-compensate some more. Also, I'm an awkward hugger, just saying.
- Hold me when I’m upset.
- Most of all, talk to me. Talk to me about anything, but especially when something is wrong. Please. Talk to me instead of just walking away.
- Please don’t take me for granted. I’ll put up with it longer than I should, but then I won’t...
- Don’t say “I love you” unless you mean it forever.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Lori & the Three Vikings
Okay, well first, there are more than three, but still not enough to make me a floozy. Second, the Vikings are kicking my ass slightly less than my now 41 year old hormones are. Third, I believe I have a multiple personality disorder.
Let’s deal with each one of these things separately, shall we?
More than three, but less than floozy...
So the last year of my dating life has been filled with a Goldilocks metaphor. This one is too soft, this one too hard (I’m sensing a double-entendre here, do you sense it too?), this one too cold, this one too hot... I haven’t found the one that’s just right, quite yet. And at this point, I’m not sure I should keep sampling the porridge.
Here’s the thing... no matter their Goldilocks category, the Vikings have all been good guys, each in their own way. But this dating thing hurts. It hurts to be dumped. It's even painful to hurt someone else’s feelings. And they feel exactly the same way in both regards. I’ve heard that geese mate for life, I’ve often wondered if they hurt this much while they’re trying to find their mate. Note to self: Ask a goose for dating advice. Believe it or not, I will actually do this.
The reason that I’m considering not sampling any more porridge is that I don’t want to get hurt or hurt anyone else, again. My last few experiences have broken my heart even if I was the one saying goodbye. That’s the thing about relationships, I guess. You can’t guarantee anything to the other person. You just can’t. No matter how much you want to. You can believe you can with all your heart, but people, including myself (and that's a huge understatement), are unpredictable. Circumstances change, people grow or change, life changes in general and there we are back in Kansas stealing sparkly red slippers off a dead witch so that we can try again.
I’ve found that if I’m honest about this concept, Vikings interpret it one of three ways: They think I don’t want a relationship or want to be alone ("relationship" and "alone" as defined by them); They think I just want sex... Most of the time they’re perfectly fine with this, but they also think it means they can ask my massage therapist out for coffee after they leave my house; or they think I’m playing with them like a cat plays with a three-legged mouse. None of these are the case, but usually I don’t have an opportunity to explain why.
The case is, in fact, that I want to be happy. And if being with someone doesn’t make me happier than I am by myself, then I’ll stay by myself. I don't expect someone to be perfect. I don't expect them to change. I want to love them for who they are. I want to be able to see a future with them. I don’t want to be in a relationship so that I have someone to share half the expenses with. That’s not ethical, and it’s not love. But trust me, a lot of people do it. And if I’m really honest, I’ve thought about it. I also don’t want someone to take care of me in any sense. I want to take care of each other. But again, it would be nice not to feel like I’m holding up the world all by myself all the time. I can’t put into words what happy looks like. At least not specifically... But I think I’ll know it when I see it. Until then, I’m not going to pretend that I can guarantee anything at all.
The Vikings are winning...
Yes, the Vikings AND my hormones are kicking my ass. First I should tell you that I only started dating when I turned 40. Yep. I know, long story, one I’m saving for a book I’m writing. It’s completely true, with the exception of having a few movie or dance dates in high school and college. And by few I mean between five and eight. Pathetic, I know.
Here’s the problem with not dating until you’re 40:
You have no schema! In fact, you’re up a creek without a schema. You just don’t have a clue what to do. This puts you at an extreme disadvantage and means that you’re going to do a LOT wrong. You’re going to hurt yourself and others in the process. You’re going to feel one minute like the world is the most glorious place in the universe (this is an oxytocin rush, just so you know). And the next minute, you’re going to feel like you can’t do anything right.
Let me put this in perspective. I’ve spent 19 years, just shy of half my life span, living alone. I had one roommate for a short period and it was actually good (maybe not for the roommate, because I’m pretty sure I’m hard to live with).
The point of telling you this is that I haven’t done a lot of the relationship-y things that most people have. I haven’t shacked up with a guy. I haven’t had a guy spend the night. I’ve never had a morning after breakfast. Bear with me, the TMI will be over soon. I’ve never cuddled on the couch to watch a movie with my significant other. I’ve cooked dinner for a few people, but the only one I was dating, I wasn’t really dating. It’s complicated. I’ve never had a joint checking account. I’ve never had anyone pay my bills for me, but I helped the it’s complicated guy financially a couple of times. I’ve never rented an apartment, bought a house or a car or even a teddy bear on joint credit. Never adopted a dog with anyone. Never had a child. I’ve never said “Honey, pass me the ketchup.” to anyone.
I have a vastly different perspective on life than most people and it’s tough for anyone to put themselves in my shoes. I don't blame them, I'm kind of a weirdo. Imagine going nearly 15 years without a kiss of any kind. Fifteen years without someone ever holding your hand. I’m not telling you this to garner sympathy, I’m trying only to describe my perspective.
I woke up this morning with a huge epiphany. One I didn’t like very much. It was: I may never be capable of having a significant other. This is a relief in a lot of ways because let’s face it, dating is hell. It takes an enormous amount of time and effort. This isn’t bad. It should take an enormous amount of time and effort or it wouldn’t matter. It hurts like hell when something doesn’t work out. And again, it should. Without hurt, you wouldn’t have a context for joy. But the other edge of this double-edged epiphany is that there is a pretty good chance (not 100%, mind you, but so far that’s my track-record), that I’ll grow older and eventually die having never experienced the relationship-y things I referred to above. So, yes I’m relieved, the pressure’s off, I can get back to work. But, I am also deeply and profoundly saddened. That takes me to my third point.
I believe I have a multiple personality disorder:
Most of the last year has been maddening! Mad-Hatter maddening. Too many fairy tales in this blog? Well, anyway... When I meet someone, sometimes even before I physically meet them, let’s say we text or talk on the phone, I can usually tell if we’ll be mostly compatible or not. I say mostly because no two people are ever 100% compatible. It’s just not possible to agree on EVERYTHING, or like ALL the same things. That’s why we’re called individuals. But, we can be mostly compatible and in my observations, those seem to be the happiest relationships. I can usually get a sense for compatibility with someone pretty quickly. And on the flip-side I can generally sense when something’s off as well. I don’t believe I’m always right about these things, but I try and make the best decisions with the information I have when I have it. I’ve also learned to trust my Spidey-sense in the last year, because if I ignore it, I regret it. Where are the multiple personalities, you ask? Well...
I seem to vacillate between the realist, the epically horny teenager and the pink sparkly tutu clad princess looking for her prince charming.
The easiest one to explain is the epically horny teenager. Fifteen years of no dating. Nuff said!
The realist. This is the woman who knows things sometimes work out and sometimes they don’t She is too honest, too logical (Lori-logic is a little different than say... Einstein-logic), occasionally skeptical, and always has a plan, flexible though it might be. She tries to be honest with her potential mates because if she fails them, she wants them to be prepared. She wants to spare their feelings right off the bat. In a twisted way, she ends up hurting their feelings by being honest about her own shortcomings. The trouble with the realist is that she never wants to count her chickens before they hatch. In some respects, she robs herself of her own potential futures.
The sparkly pink princess has counted the 5th generation of hatch-lings and built little pink chicken condos with her prince charming. She wants the fairy tale. She believes in the fairy tale. She believes every “this one” might be THE ONE. And with every potential prince charming, she floats around to the beat of her own drum... heart... something. I kind of lost that metaphor somewhere in the middle, sorry. My point is, she wants to jump in with both feet, tutu flying up over her head laughing all the way.
As you can imagine, the realist and the sparkly pink princess don’t get along all that well. For me, that means I’ve got a constant war going on in my head. Take a chance! No, wait and see. TAKE A CHANCE! No, I already know he’s not the one. TAKE A CHANCE, DAMMIT! But what if I do and it doesn’t work out and I hurt him? Argh!!!! Throw in the teenage harlot and I’m ready for meds and a comfy padded room.
Meanwhile, the Vikings end up hating me or dumping me.
At the end of the day, here we all are... Me, the realist, the sparkly pink princess, the teenage harlot and some Vikings, all special in our own way. I don’t know where we’ll all end up, but I know this. Eventually, we’ll get where we need to go. It might hurt, it might never work out. It might be happily ever after. Who knows? None of us. And fate has a funny way of making it happen although she beats the hell out of you along the way.
Let’s deal with each one of these things separately, shall we?
More than three, but less than floozy...
So the last year of my dating life has been filled with a Goldilocks metaphor. This one is too soft, this one too hard (I’m sensing a double-entendre here, do you sense it too?), this one too cold, this one too hot... I haven’t found the one that’s just right, quite yet. And at this point, I’m not sure I should keep sampling the porridge.
Here’s the thing... no matter their Goldilocks category, the Vikings have all been good guys, each in their own way. But this dating thing hurts. It hurts to be dumped. It's even painful to hurt someone else’s feelings. And they feel exactly the same way in both regards. I’ve heard that geese mate for life, I’ve often wondered if they hurt this much while they’re trying to find their mate. Note to self: Ask a goose for dating advice. Believe it or not, I will actually do this.
The reason that I’m considering not sampling any more porridge is that I don’t want to get hurt or hurt anyone else, again. My last few experiences have broken my heart even if I was the one saying goodbye. That’s the thing about relationships, I guess. You can’t guarantee anything to the other person. You just can’t. No matter how much you want to. You can believe you can with all your heart, but people, including myself (and that's a huge understatement), are unpredictable. Circumstances change, people grow or change, life changes in general and there we are back in Kansas stealing sparkly red slippers off a dead witch so that we can try again.
I’ve found that if I’m honest about this concept, Vikings interpret it one of three ways: They think I don’t want a relationship or want to be alone ("relationship" and "alone" as defined by them); They think I just want sex... Most of the time they’re perfectly fine with this, but they also think it means they can ask my massage therapist out for coffee after they leave my house; or they think I’m playing with them like a cat plays with a three-legged mouse. None of these are the case, but usually I don’t have an opportunity to explain why.
The case is, in fact, that I want to be happy. And if being with someone doesn’t make me happier than I am by myself, then I’ll stay by myself. I don't expect someone to be perfect. I don't expect them to change. I want to love them for who they are. I want to be able to see a future with them. I don’t want to be in a relationship so that I have someone to share half the expenses with. That’s not ethical, and it’s not love. But trust me, a lot of people do it. And if I’m really honest, I’ve thought about it. I also don’t want someone to take care of me in any sense. I want to take care of each other. But again, it would be nice not to feel like I’m holding up the world all by myself all the time. I can’t put into words what happy looks like. At least not specifically... But I think I’ll know it when I see it. Until then, I’m not going to pretend that I can guarantee anything at all.
The Vikings are winning...
Yes, the Vikings AND my hormones are kicking my ass. First I should tell you that I only started dating when I turned 40. Yep. I know, long story, one I’m saving for a book I’m writing. It’s completely true, with the exception of having a few movie or dance dates in high school and college. And by few I mean between five and eight. Pathetic, I know.
Here’s the problem with not dating until you’re 40:
You have no schema! In fact, you’re up a creek without a schema. You just don’t have a clue what to do. This puts you at an extreme disadvantage and means that you’re going to do a LOT wrong. You’re going to hurt yourself and others in the process. You’re going to feel one minute like the world is the most glorious place in the universe (this is an oxytocin rush, just so you know). And the next minute, you’re going to feel like you can’t do anything right.
Let me put this in perspective. I’ve spent 19 years, just shy of half my life span, living alone. I had one roommate for a short period and it was actually good (maybe not for the roommate, because I’m pretty sure I’m hard to live with).
The point of telling you this is that I haven’t done a lot of the relationship-y things that most people have. I haven’t shacked up with a guy. I haven’t had a guy spend the night. I’ve never had a morning after breakfast. Bear with me, the TMI will be over soon. I’ve never cuddled on the couch to watch a movie with my significant other. I’ve cooked dinner for a few people, but the only one I was dating, I wasn’t really dating. It’s complicated. I’ve never had a joint checking account. I’ve never had anyone pay my bills for me, but I helped the it’s complicated guy financially a couple of times. I’ve never rented an apartment, bought a house or a car or even a teddy bear on joint credit. Never adopted a dog with anyone. Never had a child. I’ve never said “Honey, pass me the ketchup.” to anyone.
I have a vastly different perspective on life than most people and it’s tough for anyone to put themselves in my shoes. I don't blame them, I'm kind of a weirdo. Imagine going nearly 15 years without a kiss of any kind. Fifteen years without someone ever holding your hand. I’m not telling you this to garner sympathy, I’m trying only to describe my perspective.
I woke up this morning with a huge epiphany. One I didn’t like very much. It was: I may never be capable of having a significant other. This is a relief in a lot of ways because let’s face it, dating is hell. It takes an enormous amount of time and effort. This isn’t bad. It should take an enormous amount of time and effort or it wouldn’t matter. It hurts like hell when something doesn’t work out. And again, it should. Without hurt, you wouldn’t have a context for joy. But the other edge of this double-edged epiphany is that there is a pretty good chance (not 100%, mind you, but so far that’s my track-record), that I’ll grow older and eventually die having never experienced the relationship-y things I referred to above. So, yes I’m relieved, the pressure’s off, I can get back to work. But, I am also deeply and profoundly saddened. That takes me to my third point.
I believe I have a multiple personality disorder:
Most of the last year has been maddening! Mad-Hatter maddening. Too many fairy tales in this blog? Well, anyway... When I meet someone, sometimes even before I physically meet them, let’s say we text or talk on the phone, I can usually tell if we’ll be mostly compatible or not. I say mostly because no two people are ever 100% compatible. It’s just not possible to agree on EVERYTHING, or like ALL the same things. That’s why we’re called individuals. But, we can be mostly compatible and in my observations, those seem to be the happiest relationships. I can usually get a sense for compatibility with someone pretty quickly. And on the flip-side I can generally sense when something’s off as well. I don’t believe I’m always right about these things, but I try and make the best decisions with the information I have when I have it. I’ve also learned to trust my Spidey-sense in the last year, because if I ignore it, I regret it. Where are the multiple personalities, you ask? Well...
I seem to vacillate between the realist, the epically horny teenager and the pink sparkly tutu clad princess looking for her prince charming.
The easiest one to explain is the epically horny teenager. Fifteen years of no dating. Nuff said!
The realist. This is the woman who knows things sometimes work out and sometimes they don’t She is too honest, too logical (Lori-logic is a little different than say... Einstein-logic), occasionally skeptical, and always has a plan, flexible though it might be. She tries to be honest with her potential mates because if she fails them, she wants them to be prepared. She wants to spare their feelings right off the bat. In a twisted way, she ends up hurting their feelings by being honest about her own shortcomings. The trouble with the realist is that she never wants to count her chickens before they hatch. In some respects, she robs herself of her own potential futures.
The sparkly pink princess has counted the 5th generation of hatch-lings and built little pink chicken condos with her prince charming. She wants the fairy tale. She believes in the fairy tale. She believes every “this one” might be THE ONE. And with every potential prince charming, she floats around to the beat of her own drum... heart... something. I kind of lost that metaphor somewhere in the middle, sorry. My point is, she wants to jump in with both feet, tutu flying up over her head laughing all the way.
As you can imagine, the realist and the sparkly pink princess don’t get along all that well. For me, that means I’ve got a constant war going on in my head. Take a chance! No, wait and see. TAKE A CHANCE! No, I already know he’s not the one. TAKE A CHANCE, DAMMIT! But what if I do and it doesn’t work out and I hurt him? Argh!!!! Throw in the teenage harlot and I’m ready for meds and a comfy padded room.
Meanwhile, the Vikings end up hating me or dumping me.
At the end of the day, here we all are... Me, the realist, the sparkly pink princess, the teenage harlot and some Vikings, all special in our own way. I don’t know where we’ll all end up, but I know this. Eventually, we’ll get where we need to go. It might hurt, it might never work out. It might be happily ever after. Who knows? None of us. And fate has a funny way of making it happen although she beats the hell out of you along the way.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Little Things Make Me Happy
So, I've been thinking... I do a lot of thinking while I'm driving and I'm sure it would be better if I was concentrating on driving, but there you go. Anyway, I was thinking about the measure of a life. What makes it special and worth living?
Of course the answer to this question is vast and depends a great deal on what's important to you. These are the things that are important to me.
Take a ride in a Jeep (or another less superior convertible): You knew this was coming right? But it really is an important one. I had the privilege of driving in scenic Glacier National Park this summer. It was in August and the days were warm and filled with sun, the nights colder than I like. But driving through sun-dappled trees, listening to birds and the breeze rustle through ancient pine trees was just short of an out-of-body experience. I would describe my faith as something other than Christian, but I do believe in spirit... in connectedness... in something larger than me. And if you ever doubt that Spirit or God or Goddess exist, take a convertible ride through Glacier. You'll feel it when the sun and shadows touch your face and run their fingers through your hair.
Visit one place that makes you feel insignificant: Now, this sounds a little counter-intuitive, but it's a continuation of the theme above. Standing in a place that makes you feel insignificant gives you valuable perspective. It helps you to understand your place in the world and how miraculous your life is no matter how you think of it most days. For me a place that makes me feel insignificant could be any stretch of wilderness. A gigantic mountain, the middle of the woods, or sitting next to a wild stream. For you it may be standing at the foot of the Eiffel Tower or at the Vatican or even at Ground Zero. Find that place and just be.
Have a reliable "in case of emergency" contact: I recently started the paperwork for my very own passport, but in doing so, I realized that I didn't have anyone to name as my "in case of emergency". This was the case for a couple of reasons. First, I don't have much immediate family left and those who are, really don't know me well enough to effectively carry out my wishes. Either they will be unwilling or incapable. That sounded pretty snooty, but it's true. But then something amazing happened. I found out a few years ago that I have a 1/2 brother & a sister-in-law I didn't know about. I met them in person on my birthday which was also the memorial service for my beloved dog. They flew in to attend the service and my brother helped me plant a sturdy oak tree for the occasion. They are amazing people. And when I talked to them about my dilemma, they volunteered to be my emergency contacts! Having someone to play that role for you isn't just a matter of paperwork. It means that somewhere in the world, someone cares about one of the most fundamental needs a person can have... knowing that someone, somewhere, will notice if you were gone from the earth. No matter how independent we are, we all need this. We need someone to acknowledge that we lived, that we touched their life for good or for bad.
Achieve one big goal: Everyone deserves one big thing to be proud of. And when I say big, remember that it's a subjective term. For some people, making a friend is big. For some, selling 10 Cadillacs is big. Don't forget to take stock of what you've already accomplished because you might have already done it. If not, decide what your big thing is and go after it. If you get it done, pick something else. Life is short, live it.
Recognize a miracle: Real miracles happen around us everyday. Things that we take for granted. Most of them aren't biblical or epic, they're little things that make us happy or catch our attention. Remember that getting out of bed can be a miracle. So is the fact that your heart beats without you doing a thing to make it so. Look for miracles everyday. I will guarantee that you will find them. They are all around us in the little details of life.
Have one devoted friend: I've been lucky in this area. I've had lots of people that I could call to have fun or help me move or even cheer me up. And I hope that I have been this for others as well. Friends are important. They connect us to the world. The person that I counted on the most recently had to move to a different state. I didn't realize how much I would miss her, but it's a good thing to know it now. It means that she made a difference in my life and now I can truly appreciate her.
Have one day you can call "the best ever": Wouldn't it be nice if everyone had a day that was perfect. Like big, perfect is also subjective. Obviously, there are a lot of things that are not under our control. But the way we choose to react to them can make a world of difference. I'm not saying you should go through life with an artificial smile and pretend that nothing is getting you down, but even sad or frustrating times can be lessons. Learning what you need to and moving on is the gift. So start thinking about what your perfect day would look like. Imagine it with all your might and do this until it actually happens.
Have one epic love affair: I'm not talking about cheating. Not at all. But everyone deserves one big love, even if it's short-lived. I am not a conventional woman. I've never actually been able to picture myself married with the white picket fence. And I haven't actually had my epic love affair yet, but all good things take time. It's something I will never lose hope in, although I have to say my hope has been flickering lately. But here's the thing... it doesn't matter to me if it lasts a weekend, a summer or a lifetime. Of course I'd be lying if I said I didn't think a lifetime sounded like the best option. But really, I just want to have experienced that one connection. To meet someone who gets me and that I feel the same way about. Someone who I can talk to for hours about ideas and life and love. Someone who is passionate and kind, happy and affectionate... and maybe a little viking if you know what I mean.
Of course the answer to this question is vast and depends a great deal on what's important to you. These are the things that are important to me.
Take a ride in a Jeep (or another less superior convertible): You knew this was coming right? But it really is an important one. I had the privilege of driving in scenic Glacier National Park this summer. It was in August and the days were warm and filled with sun, the nights colder than I like. But driving through sun-dappled trees, listening to birds and the breeze rustle through ancient pine trees was just short of an out-of-body experience. I would describe my faith as something other than Christian, but I do believe in spirit... in connectedness... in something larger than me. And if you ever doubt that Spirit or God or Goddess exist, take a convertible ride through Glacier. You'll feel it when the sun and shadows touch your face and run their fingers through your hair.
Visit one place that makes you feel insignificant: Now, this sounds a little counter-intuitive, but it's a continuation of the theme above. Standing in a place that makes you feel insignificant gives you valuable perspective. It helps you to understand your place in the world and how miraculous your life is no matter how you think of it most days. For me a place that makes me feel insignificant could be any stretch of wilderness. A gigantic mountain, the middle of the woods, or sitting next to a wild stream. For you it may be standing at the foot of the Eiffel Tower or at the Vatican or even at Ground Zero. Find that place and just be.
Have a reliable "in case of emergency" contact: I recently started the paperwork for my very own passport, but in doing so, I realized that I didn't have anyone to name as my "in case of emergency". This was the case for a couple of reasons. First, I don't have much immediate family left and those who are, really don't know me well enough to effectively carry out my wishes. Either they will be unwilling or incapable. That sounded pretty snooty, but it's true. But then something amazing happened. I found out a few years ago that I have a 1/2 brother & a sister-in-law I didn't know about. I met them in person on my birthday which was also the memorial service for my beloved dog. They flew in to attend the service and my brother helped me plant a sturdy oak tree for the occasion. They are amazing people. And when I talked to them about my dilemma, they volunteered to be my emergency contacts! Having someone to play that role for you isn't just a matter of paperwork. It means that somewhere in the world, someone cares about one of the most fundamental needs a person can have... knowing that someone, somewhere, will notice if you were gone from the earth. No matter how independent we are, we all need this. We need someone to acknowledge that we lived, that we touched their life for good or for bad.
Achieve one big goal: Everyone deserves one big thing to be proud of. And when I say big, remember that it's a subjective term. For some people, making a friend is big. For some, selling 10 Cadillacs is big. Don't forget to take stock of what you've already accomplished because you might have already done it. If not, decide what your big thing is and go after it. If you get it done, pick something else. Life is short, live it.
Recognize a miracle: Real miracles happen around us everyday. Things that we take for granted. Most of them aren't biblical or epic, they're little things that make us happy or catch our attention. Remember that getting out of bed can be a miracle. So is the fact that your heart beats without you doing a thing to make it so. Look for miracles everyday. I will guarantee that you will find them. They are all around us in the little details of life.
Have one devoted friend: I've been lucky in this area. I've had lots of people that I could call to have fun or help me move or even cheer me up. And I hope that I have been this for others as well. Friends are important. They connect us to the world. The person that I counted on the most recently had to move to a different state. I didn't realize how much I would miss her, but it's a good thing to know it now. It means that she made a difference in my life and now I can truly appreciate her.
Have one day you can call "the best ever": Wouldn't it be nice if everyone had a day that was perfect. Like big, perfect is also subjective. Obviously, there are a lot of things that are not under our control. But the way we choose to react to them can make a world of difference. I'm not saying you should go through life with an artificial smile and pretend that nothing is getting you down, but even sad or frustrating times can be lessons. Learning what you need to and moving on is the gift. So start thinking about what your perfect day would look like. Imagine it with all your might and do this until it actually happens.
Have one epic love affair: I'm not talking about cheating. Not at all. But everyone deserves one big love, even if it's short-lived. I am not a conventional woman. I've never actually been able to picture myself married with the white picket fence. And I haven't actually had my epic love affair yet, but all good things take time. It's something I will never lose hope in, although I have to say my hope has been flickering lately. But here's the thing... it doesn't matter to me if it lasts a weekend, a summer or a lifetime. Of course I'd be lying if I said I didn't think a lifetime sounded like the best option. But really, I just want to have experienced that one connection. To meet someone who gets me and that I feel the same way about. Someone who I can talk to for hours about ideas and life and love. Someone who is passionate and kind, happy and affectionate... and maybe a little viking if you know what I mean.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
It's All Fun & Games Til Someone Loses a Head...
NOTE: This post is totally based on the subjective history as written in the Showtime series "The Tudors". It is not based on any real historical research, I'm not that ambitious.
I'll try not to give anything away about the show in this post, but even someone with a rudimentary or should I say Wikipedian knowledge of Henry the VIII, should know that he was pretty tough on the ladies. In fact the entire series really does a good job of showing how difficult medieval life was on everyone, but particularly on the women associated with the King.
I do like twisted humor... But honestly, throughout 4 seasons of beheading and gawd-awful torture... I mean nasty things like the "rack", drawing & quartering and hanging until almost dead, then doing it again... being submersed in boiling oil, pulling out fingernails, cutting out tongues, being burned alive at the stake, hanging in chains (I thought that was a band, by the way... it's NOT). I nearly couldn't take anymore. I'm pretty sure I didn't really know the meaning of the word twisted and it's definitely not humorous. Honestly, I just started watching the show for the costumes... and the let's be honest, the gratuitous sex.
I came away thinking that greed trumps just about everything else. Generally, it wasn't the greed of the Queen or new potential queen, it was the greed of everyone associated with the woman in question and the greed of the King as well. As portrayed in the show, Henry VIII was... well, let's just say, he was a selfish, childish, bastard (not the literal sense of the word, but the 'bastard' sense of the word). I kept asking myself, why would someone want to marry a man that sort of willy-nilly beheads or otherwise disposes of his wives when the mood suits him even if doing so made them "Queen of the realm". That title does sound cool, but it's not worth a beheading! I mean, certainly, you can't blame the first wife... It was an arranged marriage and she didn't know he would turn out to be a spoiled-rotten lunatic! She ended up fighting like hell to keep what she'd earned. Good for her! But you may be able to guess how that turned out! Now, let's say you were potential wife #3, wouldn't you have to ask yourself, "is the jewelry really worth the risk?" I don't think the fickle King was worth it with his childish disposition and his stinky leg, so it had to be the jewelry, right?!
And throughout all of it, there was constant maneuvering, manipulating and cheating for power and position and titles and basically... all things meaningless. I hate this phrase, but it's appropriate here: "AT THE END OF THE DAY", you're Duke of whatever, who cares?? If you're headless, does it really matter what your Duke of... or that your a Duke at all? I'm pretty sure your central nervous system would agree with me here.
I also have to say that the most religious, not faithful or spiritual or catholic or protestant, but religious of those in the show were really the most lunatickie (I think I just invented a word there). Seriously, some of the priests would give the Marquis de Sade a run for his money and let me tell you, there was no safe word to save your hide.
In short, being a medieval woman not only sucked, it was dangerous. You could be promised to a masochist, beheaded, tortured, used, sent to a nunnery or cast out altogether because of the whim of a man... OR because a rival woman was really really good at manipulating said man. I gotta say, even though I love the clothes, I think I'll stay here in the 21st century where I have control of the remote... and my head!
PS: Wikipedia, despite my little dig, I actually love you! SUPPORT Wikipedia everyone!
I'll try not to give anything away about the show in this post, but even someone with a rudimentary or should I say Wikipedian knowledge of Henry the VIII, should know that he was pretty tough on the ladies. In fact the entire series really does a good job of showing how difficult medieval life was on everyone, but particularly on the women associated with the King.
Watching the show actually inspired a bumper sticker design of mine:
(Cue Shameless plug: http://www.cafepress.com/naughtyviking.423537088)
I do like twisted humor... But honestly, throughout 4 seasons of beheading and gawd-awful torture... I mean nasty things like the "rack", drawing & quartering and hanging until almost dead, then doing it again... being submersed in boiling oil, pulling out fingernails, cutting out tongues, being burned alive at the stake, hanging in chains (I thought that was a band, by the way... it's NOT). I nearly couldn't take anymore. I'm pretty sure I didn't really know the meaning of the word twisted and it's definitely not humorous. Honestly, I just started watching the show for the costumes... and the let's be honest, the gratuitous sex.
I came away thinking that greed trumps just about everything else. Generally, it wasn't the greed of the Queen or new potential queen, it was the greed of everyone associated with the woman in question and the greed of the King as well. As portrayed in the show, Henry VIII was... well, let's just say, he was a selfish, childish, bastard (not the literal sense of the word, but the 'bastard' sense of the word). I kept asking myself, why would someone want to marry a man that sort of willy-nilly beheads or otherwise disposes of his wives when the mood suits him even if doing so made them "Queen of the realm". That title does sound cool, but it's not worth a beheading! I mean, certainly, you can't blame the first wife... It was an arranged marriage and she didn't know he would turn out to be a spoiled-rotten lunatic! She ended up fighting like hell to keep what she'd earned. Good for her! But you may be able to guess how that turned out! Now, let's say you were potential wife #3, wouldn't you have to ask yourself, "is the jewelry really worth the risk?" I don't think the fickle King was worth it with his childish disposition and his stinky leg, so it had to be the jewelry, right?!
And throughout all of it, there was constant maneuvering, manipulating and cheating for power and position and titles and basically... all things meaningless. I hate this phrase, but it's appropriate here: "AT THE END OF THE DAY", you're Duke of whatever, who cares?? If you're headless, does it really matter what your Duke of... or that your a Duke at all? I'm pretty sure your central nervous system would agree with me here.
I also have to say that the most religious, not faithful or spiritual or catholic or protestant, but religious of those in the show were really the most lunatickie (I think I just invented a word there). Seriously, some of the priests would give the Marquis de Sade a run for his money and let me tell you, there was no safe word to save your hide.
In short, being a medieval woman not only sucked, it was dangerous. You could be promised to a masochist, beheaded, tortured, used, sent to a nunnery or cast out altogether because of the whim of a man... OR because a rival woman was really really good at manipulating said man. I gotta say, even though I love the clothes, I think I'll stay here in the 21st century where I have control of the remote... and my head!
(another shameless plug, buy this bumper sticker at:
http://www.cafepress.com/naughtyviking.430534868)
http://www.cafepress.com/naughtyviking.430534868)
PS: Wikipedia, despite my little dig, I actually love you! SUPPORT Wikipedia everyone!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Scotland or Bust!
Well, about a year ago... I think at the start of my mid-life crisis, I started thinking about moving myself and my dog and maybe the Jeep... to Scotland. Just out of the blue. If the money would have been available, quite honestly, I would have been gone already.
Most people will probably think that this isn't a crazy idea, I mean people make moves everyday. Including big moves to other countries. What makes it crazy is that I've never actually been to Scotland. In fact, I live in Montana and I've never even been to Canada! Montana borders Canada by the way. In addition, I don't have a passport quite yet (although I was supposed to have that done by now). I got stuck at the emergency contact field on the form. I didn't have one.
It's not that I haven't ever traveled. I've been to at least 8 states and some more than once. I mean really, I know how to get around!
I thought I would hate Florida, but I loved it. Sea World with it's dolphin nursery, the armadillos and the constant sunshine. Really lovely. The most fascinating thing were the gardens. What we consider tropical plants meant for indoors and constant care here in my neck of the woods, were actually planted OUTSIDE and they were enormous. I had a ball trying to see how many of their outdoor plants I actually had in my living room at home.
Texas was fun because of the people. They were all so friendly and it seems their state greeting was "Hey girl!" I loved that.
The sheer number of public transportation methods in San Francisco were mind-boggling. In my city (I use this term loosely), we have a city bus system, but they stop running about 6:00pm and there are no other alternatives... I guess we have taxi cabs, but I think only 4 or 5 of them.
I loved Oregon as well. Friendly, mellow people, beautiful gardens and a laid back attitude. The best thing was that there were still a lot of things to do like art galleries, theaters, parks etc....
Illinois was stuffy. I got the feeling that the people I met there really considered themselves to be aristocratic and I kept thinking "this is Illinois, isn't it?" Sorry Illinois. I didn't see Chicago and I know my experience isn't representative of all your people.
But there is something about Scotland that just calls to me. Something about the landscape, the people, the attitude that is extremely appealing. The accent doesn't hurt either. I like accents. I think they're fun and frankly good exercise for the brain. Really any accent is fun to listen to. I'm sure people think I have an accent in certain parts of the country, but I love them all... New York, Boston, the southern US, you name it, I like listening to it. OK, back to my subject...
In preparation for the trip, I've been trying to learn Gaelic. Obviously, the Scottish speak English (with their amazing accent), but Gaelic is making a comeback like Native American tribal languages here. Let me just say, Gaelic is hard with a capital HARD. I can say "my name is Lori" in Gaelic and that's about it after a month of study. It seems to me that Gaelic is one of those languages where someone threw a bunch of letters together then pronounced something completely different, or maybe it's the other way around. Was it spoken pre-modern alphabet and someone tried to retro-fit the letters to the sounds? I'll have to look that up. In either case, they don't exactly match and I mostly don't get it, but it's fun to try. And of course, fun to listen to.
Dreamy Scotland. Some of the most beautiful landscape in the world in my opinion. If you've seen movies like "Stardust" or "Centurion", you'll know what I mean. It actually does remind me a bit of Montana. Independent people, unforgiving terrain and sheer tenacity and spirit. But different and farther away ;)
You may wonder why I'm thinking about moving to a place that reminds me of home when I could just stay... uh... home. It might seem a bit pointless, I guess. But honestly, there are several reasons. The biggest one is this: You know when you're on a trip and it's exciting in the beginning. You can't wait to get there and you know you're going to have an enormous amount of fun and you do have fun. Well, there's a moment on the way home... I think it hits about a 1/3 to 1/2 way home when you just want to BE home. You are done with the trip, it's over, you're ready to be in your own bed and off the plane or out of the car. Your mind has already checked out. That's sort of how I feel about Montana right now. It's not that I don't love it... or think it's absolutely beautiful... I do. But I am just done with it for now.
I can't actually move yet, and yes it would be crazy to make plans to move before even getting there to see it firsthand, but that's in the works as well. I'm also sure that there's a a big brawny man in a kilt waiting there just for me (possibly of Viking descent) so why not take the chance? I know, I'm obsessed a little. At the very least, it will be a new adventure in a new place... the land of sacred standing stones, castles, epic romance and Braveheart. The problem is that I truly think when I actually get there, I won't want to come back. I think my soul will know that I'm home.
L
Most people will probably think that this isn't a crazy idea, I mean people make moves everyday. Including big moves to other countries. What makes it crazy is that I've never actually been to Scotland. In fact, I live in Montana and I've never even been to Canada! Montana borders Canada by the way. In addition, I don't have a passport quite yet (although I was supposed to have that done by now). I got stuck at the emergency contact field on the form. I didn't have one.
It's not that I haven't ever traveled. I've been to at least 8 states and some more than once. I mean really, I know how to get around!
I thought I would hate Florida, but I loved it. Sea World with it's dolphin nursery, the armadillos and the constant sunshine. Really lovely. The most fascinating thing were the gardens. What we consider tropical plants meant for indoors and constant care here in my neck of the woods, were actually planted OUTSIDE and they were enormous. I had a ball trying to see how many of their outdoor plants I actually had in my living room at home.
Texas was fun because of the people. They were all so friendly and it seems their state greeting was "Hey girl!" I loved that.
The sheer number of public transportation methods in San Francisco were mind-boggling. In my city (I use this term loosely), we have a city bus system, but they stop running about 6:00pm and there are no other alternatives... I guess we have taxi cabs, but I think only 4 or 5 of them.
I loved Oregon as well. Friendly, mellow people, beautiful gardens and a laid back attitude. The best thing was that there were still a lot of things to do like art galleries, theaters, parks etc....
Illinois was stuffy. I got the feeling that the people I met there really considered themselves to be aristocratic and I kept thinking "this is Illinois, isn't it?" Sorry Illinois. I didn't see Chicago and I know my experience isn't representative of all your people.
But there is something about Scotland that just calls to me. Something about the landscape, the people, the attitude that is extremely appealing. The accent doesn't hurt either. I like accents. I think they're fun and frankly good exercise for the brain. Really any accent is fun to listen to. I'm sure people think I have an accent in certain parts of the country, but I love them all... New York, Boston, the southern US, you name it, I like listening to it. OK, back to my subject...
In preparation for the trip, I've been trying to learn Gaelic. Obviously, the Scottish speak English (with their amazing accent), but Gaelic is making a comeback like Native American tribal languages here. Let me just say, Gaelic is hard with a capital HARD. I can say "my name is Lori" in Gaelic and that's about it after a month of study. It seems to me that Gaelic is one of those languages where someone threw a bunch of letters together then pronounced something completely different, or maybe it's the other way around. Was it spoken pre-modern alphabet and someone tried to retro-fit the letters to the sounds? I'll have to look that up. In either case, they don't exactly match and I mostly don't get it, but it's fun to try. And of course, fun to listen to.
Dreamy Scotland. Some of the most beautiful landscape in the world in my opinion. If you've seen movies like "Stardust" or "Centurion", you'll know what I mean. It actually does remind me a bit of Montana. Independent people, unforgiving terrain and sheer tenacity and spirit. But different and farther away ;)
You may wonder why I'm thinking about moving to a place that reminds me of home when I could just stay... uh... home. It might seem a bit pointless, I guess. But honestly, there are several reasons. The biggest one is this: You know when you're on a trip and it's exciting in the beginning. You can't wait to get there and you know you're going to have an enormous amount of fun and you do have fun. Well, there's a moment on the way home... I think it hits about a 1/3 to 1/2 way home when you just want to BE home. You are done with the trip, it's over, you're ready to be in your own bed and off the plane or out of the car. Your mind has already checked out. That's sort of how I feel about Montana right now. It's not that I don't love it... or think it's absolutely beautiful... I do. But I am just done with it for now.
I can't actually move yet, and yes it would be crazy to make plans to move before even getting there to see it firsthand, but that's in the works as well. I'm also sure that there's a a big brawny man in a kilt waiting there just for me (possibly of Viking descent) so why not take the chance? I know, I'm obsessed a little. At the very least, it will be a new adventure in a new place... the land of sacred standing stones, castles, epic romance and Braveheart. The problem is that I truly think when I actually get there, I won't want to come back. I think my soul will know that I'm home.
L
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Advice for a Virtual Date
So, a lot of people are online dating these days. I am not one of them. Frankly, I spend enough time on the computer and don't want to add my social life to the mix. I do however, think it's a great alternative to some of the traditional ways of meeting people, especially hanging out in bars. That's just not my scene. I have, however looked at potentials online, it's like window shopping for men with no commitment or risk, how could you not at least peek. There is still a stigma associated with online dating though and I have to say the most interesting guy I've seen online had the following byline: "Willing to lie about where we met." Now that was clever. Not venturing any further, I will go as far to say that he seemed to at least have a great sense of humor.
Even though I am not online dating, I have thought about it. What if you were to meet someone who was not in close physical proximity to you? How would you handle a date? I mean, there is e-mail, sure... and you can talk on the phone. But actually flying to meet someone? In my book, that is a big commitment. Are you sensing that I may have a problem with commitment? Huh? Maybe I do. ARGH, Like I need something else to work on!
Anyway... in my day job, I design virtual or online training. One of the goals with this is to create a virtual experience for the learner. So I am going to apply some of these principles to creating a virtual date. Anyone who likes the idea, please feel free to use it. I would love to hear how they work, so don't forget to come back and fill out the comments below.
Requirement One: I am going to assume you are have already e-mailed, phoned or otherwise communicated with your date, so you probably have a little bit of an idea about what they like.
Requirement Two: A guy or a girl can be in charge of planning the date. Ladies, don't feel like you have to wait for the man, you can take charge as well. Whomever takes the first step, if you are the recipient of the first virtual date, reciprocate by designing your own and sending it back to them.
Requirement Three: Remember this is virtual. That's what's so great about it. The sky is the limit. You have no physical or financial limitations. Can you imagine the possibilities? The only things that are required are a good imagination, some ingenuity, and an Internet connection (although you can do this in "PowerPoint" or better "Keynote" for the clearly superior Mac people out there ;)
In my example, I am going to use someone named Pete. Primarily because I don't know anyone named Pete. That in itself seems a bit impossible doesn't it? I mean Pete is a fairly common name. What kind of a place am I living in that I don't know a Pete?! Ok... getting off track. In my fictitious virtual example, I am going to try to woo a guy named Pete. And here's how I would do it:
I'd like to take you on a virtual date. It will be a date unbound by the laws of time, space & money. Think of it as Astral Projection or Remote Viewing. This is going to require some imagination on both our parts, but I think it will be worth it. Within the text, you will find links and objects that will help you get the full experience. Don't forget to follow all the links. Also, since this date is virtual, you can participate whenever you want to! We're going to have so much fun. See you soon.
It's a little cliché, but I'm okay with that. We'll start in Paris for breakfast (note: I wish this person would have spelled espresso correctly, you'll see what I mean). Maybe a little sidewalk café because it seems so romantic. While drinking café au lait and enjoying fresh croissants with real butter (virtual-NO CALORIES!), we can watch Parisians in their natural habitat and discuss Sarah Gruen's Water for Elephants. It's Paris after all, how could we possibly have a bad conversation.
Since we're in Europe anyway, we might as well hop (thru time & space) over to see the Piéta by Michaelangelo at St. Peter's Basilica. It's breathtaking and I'd love to see it in person, wouldn't you? Michaelangelo and Leonardo DaVinci are fascinating and I know you like art as well... I just had a crazy thought... We're not bound by time or space... Maybe we should just drop in and meet Leonardo DaVinci. What d'ya say?
Wow. I don't know if we can top that, but I'd like to take you someplace that is a little closer to home for me. It's called the Pryor Mountains. I took this picture there one summer. It's incredibly beautiful. I think you would like it. We can picnic with the local marmot and nap in the sun.
Before dinner, I think we should detour to Argentina and tango! I am rhythmically challenged, so it may look like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xi4O1yi6b0, but I will do my best...
For dinner, I think I'll make you something... maybe some Italian Bread Bowls with a good wine. I actually don't know much about wine, but I'm hoping this is a good one. After dinner, it might be time to curl up on the couch and watch a good movie, like Monte Python & the Holy Grail... or something more action packed like Centurion! Whatever the movie is, I'm sure it will be fine and hopefully you'll steal a kiss...
Now, wasn't that fun? I enjoyed putting it together. Now, if I only knew a "Pete"! I'm hoping you enjoyed it as well. So feel free to borrow any of the ideas here and have fun. Use your imagination and for my sake, be creative! Who says you can't be romantic in cyberspace?
Even though I am not online dating, I have thought about it. What if you were to meet someone who was not in close physical proximity to you? How would you handle a date? I mean, there is e-mail, sure... and you can talk on the phone. But actually flying to meet someone? In my book, that is a big commitment. Are you sensing that I may have a problem with commitment? Huh? Maybe I do. ARGH, Like I need something else to work on!
Anyway... in my day job, I design virtual or online training. One of the goals with this is to create a virtual experience for the learner. So I am going to apply some of these principles to creating a virtual date. Anyone who likes the idea, please feel free to use it. I would love to hear how they work, so don't forget to come back and fill out the comments below.
Requirement One: I am going to assume you are have already e-mailed, phoned or otherwise communicated with your date, so you probably have a little bit of an idea about what they like.
Requirement Two: A guy or a girl can be in charge of planning the date. Ladies, don't feel like you have to wait for the man, you can take charge as well. Whomever takes the first step, if you are the recipient of the first virtual date, reciprocate by designing your own and sending it back to them.
Requirement Three: Remember this is virtual. That's what's so great about it. The sky is the limit. You have no physical or financial limitations. Can you imagine the possibilities? The only things that are required are a good imagination, some ingenuity, and an Internet connection (although you can do this in "PowerPoint" or better "Keynote" for the clearly superior Mac people out there ;)
In my example, I am going to use someone named Pete. Primarily because I don't know anyone named Pete. That in itself seems a bit impossible doesn't it? I mean Pete is a fairly common name. What kind of a place am I living in that I don't know a Pete?! Ok... getting off track. In my fictitious virtual example, I am going to try to woo a guy named Pete. And here's how I would do it:
-------------------------------->start imaginary virtual date<--------------------------
Dear Pete,I'd like to take you on a virtual date. It will be a date unbound by the laws of time, space & money. Think of it as Astral Projection or Remote Viewing. This is going to require some imagination on both our parts, but I think it will be worth it. Within the text, you will find links and objects that will help you get the full experience. Don't forget to follow all the links. Also, since this date is virtual, you can participate whenever you want to! We're going to have so much fun. See you soon.
It's a little cliché, but I'm okay with that. We'll start in Paris for breakfast (note: I wish this person would have spelled espresso correctly, you'll see what I mean). Maybe a little sidewalk café because it seems so romantic. While drinking café au lait and enjoying fresh croissants with real butter (virtual-NO CALORIES!), we can watch Parisians in their natural habitat and discuss Sarah Gruen's Water for Elephants. It's Paris after all, how could we possibly have a bad conversation.
Since we're in Europe anyway, we might as well hop (thru time & space) over to see the Piéta by Michaelangelo at St. Peter's Basilica. It's breathtaking and I'd love to see it in person, wouldn't you? Michaelangelo and Leonardo DaVinci are fascinating and I know you like art as well... I just had a crazy thought... We're not bound by time or space... Maybe we should just drop in and meet Leonardo DaVinci. What d'ya say?
Wow. I don't know if we can top that, but I'd like to take you someplace that is a little closer to home for me. It's called the Pryor Mountains. I took this picture there one summer. It's incredibly beautiful. I think you would like it. We can picnic with the local marmot and nap in the sun.
Before dinner, I think we should detour to Argentina and tango! I am rhythmically challenged, so it may look like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xi4O1yi6b0, but I will do my best...
For dinner, I think I'll make you something... maybe some Italian Bread Bowls with a good wine. I actually don't know much about wine, but I'm hoping this is a good one. After dinner, it might be time to curl up on the couch and watch a good movie, like Monte Python & the Holy Grail... or something more action packed like Centurion! Whatever the movie is, I'm sure it will be fine and hopefully you'll steal a kiss...
----------------------->end imaginary virtual date<---------------------
Now, wasn't that fun? I enjoyed putting it together. Now, if I only knew a "Pete"! I'm hoping you enjoyed it as well. So feel free to borrow any of the ideas here and have fun. Use your imagination and for my sake, be creative! Who says you can't be romantic in cyberspace?
Go forth, your virtual date awaits!
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