Category Archives: Comfy

Sitting in a big ol’ chair in front of a roaring fire with a glass of wine and a full belly. You can hear the purring…

No Lallygagging

Have you ever cried in a public place?  I mean gut-wrenching sobbing and wailing at, like say, a bus stop during rush hour downtown?  How about actually on the bus?

Yeah, that was me.  Well, I didn’t wail but I did the other stuff.

I am the woman who scores of people tried very hard not to look at today.  Not many people are so open with their pain and it’s pretty uncomfortable to witness.  What would you think if you saw a middle-aged woman carrying 3 grocery bags filled with all kinds of paraphernalia; a picture of a sweet baby lifting her head for the first time, a picture frame filled with images of 2 happy offspring, 4 pairs of shoes, various snacks and other odds and ends?


Dat lady got herself fired.


It was a relief really.  More and more the muddiness of my mind was taking over the better parts I knew were hiding there somewhere.  I dreaded each day that was to be a work day.  I literally felt I was shrinking into myself.

I had calmed down by the time I got home and told my daughter that, once again, her mother was fired from another job.  The fear on her face looked to be about equal to the trust I saw there, thank goodness.  We have been through this before.  After that I went comfortably numb.  My sister came over and the 3 of us talked about it all.  It was educational for everyone. An evening of goal-setting does a heart good.

I resent this life I’m forced to lead.  I feel like I’m doing all the work and the rest of the world isn’t doing it’s part.  I do have good, solid, positive people in my life.  I hate to be a burden on them and try to make up for it as well as I can. I take my meds, I do research, I go to the doctor, I look for signs constantly that something isn’t right.

A lot of things aren’t right.not easy to love

My skills are so lopsided.  Give me a crowd or one-on-one and I can do magic.  Make me use a different part of my brain that has to include memory, focus and consistency then I crash.  I’m smart, funny, empathetic and sincere.  I’ve lost 4 jobs in the last 3 years, all of which were due to my disorder and its symptoms.

What will this mean?  Where should I go now?  I’m ignoring the tightness in my chest and my lack of appetite.  I refuse to sleep when I want to because that would be all the time.  I’m awake until 4 am no matter what I do.

How can I make this any clearer?  Is somebody listening?  Something has to change.  Something will have to get better.

It always does.

How do I feel right now?

I’ve been racking my brains about what to write with no inspiration at all.  Most of my starts were lame this week; usually this doesn’t happen to me.  Then, I thought of my favourite print a woman I used to know owned of a bed with rumpled white, white sheets under a window that looked out upon a summer morning.  I couldn’t find it online but this one felt almost the same.

From both photos, I get the sense that something wonderful happened in that bed.  It didn’t have to be sex at all (although that would be nice) but a night filled with whispers in the dark, secret touches, breaths colliding in unison, and two minds exploring the dreams of the other.

Then a morning escape for a day with a future.

Makes one sigh.  I sure did.

me n her

We did it.  The girl and I went out.  We had some shopping to do and I had no idea how I was going to do it. I came upon some money by accident.  Too many things happened at once (really, at once is a ridiculously redundant term as everything just keeps happening!); her retainer cracked, then she lost it, then she found it, and it was still cracked ($125).  She tried out for volleyball and did it!  Now we need volleyball shorts and knee guards.

No gas, getting low on supplies…ARGH!  Some things never change. What’s a girl to do?

I found a file at work (I’ve been a little unfocused these last few weeks), and in it was my expenses and mileage sheet.  For 2 months.  $132.00.

That’s Canadian $.

Put that with my ex’s meager “child support” payment and I had about $200.00.  Canadian.  Wheee!

So, our appointment for the orthodontist was today at 3:00.  I had it all planned out.  I would go to work then attend my own doctor’s appointment, go home and have a short nap.  I woke feeling quite refreshed when I woke up and filled with plans for the day.  Gonna be a good Momma and provide for my child.

I realized I lost my bank card.  No worries, I had to cash my expense cheque anyway.  Plenty of time, not really realizing exactly what time it was.

It was lovely at the bank, as the teller remembered me from the last 4 times I needed a new card.  Cashed my cheque and I felt positively rich!

I had told Carly I would meet her at 2:45.  I finally checked my phone for the time.  3:15.  Her appointment was at 3:00.

I lost half an hour or more somewhere in my day.

She called me just as I pulled into the driveway of the school.  I parked and she came and found me.  I was mortified by what happened.  I pulled into a parking lot and called the orthodontist about rescheduling.  I was going to start explaining about the onset of menopause to the young woman at the other end of the line but as soon as I started I received at WHAP on my arm from my sweet offspring who has gone without her top retainer for a week.  Now, with a no-nonsense, non spinny, professional mother attitude, booked a new time. Five minutes later I sheepishly called back to book another because I forgot I work for a living.  By the end of the last conversation I had with the appointment-booker-person she was speaking to me in a tone of voice reserved for the types of people who, um, have a hard time understanding things.  You know; she was slowly enunciating each word in her sentences.

Okay that was done, let’s go spend some money on my kid.  I’ve learned to love shopping with Carly.  She is so thorough and I can wander away and she always finds me. (Who’s the kid?  Who’s the grownup?  I dunno but I have the money, honey.)

First place was a big box sports store, highly overrated and overpriced.  Knee guards, $35.  Shorts were $45.  We bought the knee guards. thinking if we find cheaper ones we can simply return these ones.  After this there was Wal-Mart, who had nothing so it was to the mall we went to next.

Carly was so hungry and wanted a teen burger.  I had a muffin for supper.  Supper still cost us about $10.  My fortune was dwindling.  We wandered the mall.

My hips are old now and don’t like to walk for too long then they usually take up singing lessons with my back.  Throw some hot flashes in there and you have a groovy new dance that should never be seen in public.

Yet there I was.

Yeah, I’m a man-magnet.

After a while, with no luck at the mall and me trying hard not to notice my exploding bladder (well, almost) we headed in the general direction of the bathrooms.  As I hobbled towards the blessed porcelain of utmost relief and happiness, I left my daughter with a loonie and massaging chairs.

I made a beeline for those same chairs after my business was complete, with my own loonie in hand.  Took me a few minutes to understand what Carly was saying about the chair I was sitting in and about to load the coin into.  I think I was a little excited.  Finally, I grasped the words “That one doesn’t work, Mom” said with much eye rolling.  I went to the next one and plugged it.

Oh. My. Goodness.  I want to marry this chair.  I want this chair.  Oh, Oh, Oh.  I enjoyed it so much I barely noticed Carly escaping around the corner, intent on her Blackberry, pretending she is alone.

I think I was drooling.

When I opened my eyes there was a man standing there staring hard at me.  I gave him a thumbs up.  He grinned and held out his own loonie.  Oh. Sadly, he meant it for himself.  Bye bye chair.

I felt much better (I actually typed “mush” by accident. now that’s funny!) so we explored a bit more of the mall.  Nothing in the way of shorts though; it’s hard to find the right fit for my tiny girl.

By the time we got back into the car to start our search again, I realized I was almost, really close to being, out of gas.  $20 more dollars for that. The $10 from the day before only lasted, well, a day.

We tried another place where all they sell is athletic gear.  They do not sell women’s shorts.  At all.

Carly’s friend texted her from the store where they found shorts galore.  I would like to add that I am so happy other parents are going through this.  Carly would not hear of her friend’s dad buying Carly some shorts and me paying him in the morning.  It was worth a try.

The store was on the other side of town and I THOUGHT I knew where it was.  After a few kilometers I realized I didn’t.  I pulled onto a side street where Carly and I worked our BB’s and downloaded apps and all that stuff to figure out where the store was.  My phone’s map guide thingy kept taking me back to Winnipeg Beach which is not even close to where we actually were.  I guess it has fond memories of it too.


Carly was the one who let out the screech of triumph and started giving me directions.  All I could hear was “North” and I actually did know where that was. The rest of her instructions were just a jumble.

“How do you know this way is North?” asks the little brat.  I explained that I just knew and to please trust me.  I heard mutterings of “grumble appointments, grumble, grumble, getting lost, grumble” and succeeded in ignoring this vortex of teen-aged negativity sitting beside me.

Yay.  We did it; we found the shorts. $35.  They fit her tiny frame and they were going with her to volleyball fame.

Home was sweet to get to except for the stench of whatever was going on in the hallways of our building.  I never smelled anything like it in my life!  Carly and I had to cover our noses and mouth and find our way to our apartment with watering eyes and stomachs that wanted to retch.  Unfortunately, the unholy smell had seeped under the door and into our apartment.  We stood over the plug-in air freshener until we got our bearings and stuffed up the crevice under the door and sprayed air freshener everywhere.

Now I sit, drinking the last 2 glasses of the wine that the lovely woman my son loves bought for me.  I will worry about the retainer fee tomorrow and whatever else has to be paid for later.

Right now, I feel good.

50 Lessons in 50 Years

There are always things to learn.  I want to know more about more things. I also want to do better at the things I do.  I want to just be better.  I don’t think I’m progressing fast enough though.

I realized a long time ago sometimes I have to stop, look back on what’s been going on and realize how far I’ve come. How much things have changed.  A little credit, if you will.  Two weeks ago, August 22, I turned 50.

And I’ve come a long way.  Baby.


Thanks to the inspiration that came from Karen of Dreamin the Life blog , who, by the way, does not even know me.  I also stole wisdom from many others because they helped me to know what my truth is.  Hopefully I’ll word everything properly so it makes sense.

(Note: Many of these lessons have been acquired from other sources along my journey, and are not original thoughts.)

1. The first pancake always turns out badly.

2. I don’t have to get along with everyone, or make everyone like me.

3. Love makes me stupid.

4. I always have at least 2 choices, even if I don’t like the choices.

5. Sometimes even women need to learn to MTFU.

6. Most people operate out of selfish motivations.

7. It’s rarely about me.

8. Diet Pepsi is evil.

9. It’s okay to break the rules, as long as you are good enough not to get caught, and you aren’t hurting anyone.

10. “Be kinder than necessary ’cause everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.”

11. There’s three sides to every story; his, hers, and the truth.

12. Time doesn’t heal anything; it’s what you do with that time.

13. Complaining and blaming other people doesn’t help anything, and makes for miserable company.

14. Everything in my life is my responsibility.

15. I train people how to treat me.

16. There’s always hope.

17. I can always be grateful for something.

18. I’ve never made a mistake because I learned a lot of lessons.

19. My brain is complicated but not unmanagable.

20. Showing emotion is not a sign of weakness.  Knowing when it’s appropriate is a skill.

21. Google can answer anything.

22. Being silly is one of my favorite qualities in a person.

23. Honesty is always the easiest route.  It shouldn’t have to hurt though.

24. You should never stop learning, or trying to be a better person.

25. Worrying is useless, unless it motivates you to take action.

26. When people show you who they are, believe them.

27. There is only fear, and love.  And one of them is way more fun.

28. Love seems to be way over-rated

29. Verbalize what my relationship means to me – to my lover, my kids and also to me.  Listen.

30. Support my children’s dreams

31. Hold your children as much as you/they want while they are young.  They grow fast.

32. I’m responsible for the two wonderful children I have and acknowledge my role in raising them.

33.  It’s real easy to kick myself when I’m down.

34.  I’m a lot stronger than I ever thought possible.

35.  I am more vulnerable than I could imagine.

36.  I have many talents that haven’t been developed yet.

37. I love to write so much I get lost in it.

38. Beautiful things take my breath away.copying prohibited

39. Beautiful words will last a lifetime with me.

40. I love it when the man I love hugs me from behind and whispers in my ear.

41. I’m terrified of becoming my mother even though I admire her.

42. I’m more forgiving than I should be.

43. I don’t like to be told what to do.

44. I cook better than I realized.

45. I’m impressed when people ask me for my advice.

46. Discussion of ex-gf’s and ex-bf’s should be avoided at all times.

47. It’s cheating as soon as a man is doing something with another woman that he wouldn’t want me to see, hear, read…

48. Banks are people too!

49. Dieting does not work for me.

50 Life isn’t fair.

Good thing I’m just 50.  Whew, that took some work and soul-searching. Thank you to every person I love, who has taught me something, or encouraged me along the way.

Feel free to add to the list in the comments below.

Mulva in Her Dress

I just remembered a remarkable story I must tell you all.  Some of my readers may already remember and know this memory. I wanted to get it written down before I’m fif…fi.fffff…um, not 49 anymore and could maybe start to forget things more than I already do.

So going waaay back to when I was still working at my former job, a little money came our way so the staff could partake in some fun and hopefully help to prevent burnout.  Burnout was common at my workplace as we worked with persons with HIV.  This story happened before the magic cocktails came out which changed the face of HIV/AIDS.  In our half of the world anyway.

So the mighty ED (executive director, not erectile dysfunction) (ahem) selected a team, a committee, a bunch of suckers if you will, to plan a magical FUN DAY with the emphasis being on the FUN.  There was a scavenger hunt and all kinds of things I now forget.  I do remember how hard my co-workers on the committee slaved to make sure everyone had fun.  Except the committee didn’t have any fun.  They were too busy.  I want to acknowledge them now.  I bow to you all and kiss your lovely feet.

Now here my memory is leaky; I know I volunteered to do stuff but I think I only ended up doing one thing.  And that’s where Mulva came in.

I think this was a time where I was at the height of my bipolar disorder and definitely on an upwards slope and not close to crashing.  I was/am totally addicted to the internet and all its lovely sites and sounds.  One day I came across a sight that was sort of Magic 8 Ball and sort of Tarot Card that would “read” you by sensing your fingers on the keys.

With that, I had an amazing, impossible idea.

I decided to transform myself and become the glorious, mysterious Mulva, Seer extraordinaire.  I wore the only dress I had at the time, a long black number with an outer layer of lace.  I know it sounds glamorous but on me it just made me look frumpier.  It was long-sleeved and made from some heavy material.  I added RED lipstick, generous amounts of  mascara and dark blue eyeshadow and liner.  This would have been in July.

Mulva showed up at work with many scarves, rings and attitude.  She took off her shoes almost as soon as she got there.  She was shown to the office where she was to weave magic from the laptop assigned to her for just that purpose.

Okay, I cannot write in the third person.  So to continue…

It didn’t take me very long to realize how damned hot it was in there.

My first habitué was one of the women who worked in the building.  Well, they all worked in the building. We got down to business.  I was so cute and made noises and chanted.  I had her in stitches.  Then I asked her to lay her hands upon the laptop.  The seer on the site spit out some drivel which I tried to interpret it for her.

Then came the next part of my schtick.  The night before, I had my then 5-year-old daughter help me paint small, shiny, smooth rocks with nail polish with random designs.  She did insist on making a wish for the recipient before and after painting the rocks.  She did this by closing her eyes, holding the rock close to her heart and smiling as she wished in her head.  So cute at that age.  Then they turn 14. I was intrigued what this could mean for the chosen.  I was also wondering how I was going to get all that nail polish off my little girl. The rocks were then put into a velvet bag for me to take to work the next day.  Carly kissed the velvet bag with its magic stones before she went to bed.

So this lovely nurse reached into the bag to find the rock that was magically especially for her.  I was to interpret the rock and the enchanted design then give my impressions to her.  I babbled about something, we laughed some more and out she went with me right behind her with my scarves fanning her aura out of the room to make room for the next person.

Drama queen is Mulva indeed.

So this went on for hours.  I was really hot in my stupid dress (I wore pantyhose too!  What was I thinking!?) and I was getting tired.  Someone thought to bring me water.  Then a Diet Pepsi.  Better.

Then the most remarkable thing happened with the 5th or so person who was looking for some psychic satisfaction in their lives.

I didn’t know her at all.  She just started working there and didn’t work in the same section as I so our paths rarely crossed.  She wasn’t at all gleeful as the others had been.  She was very serious and rather intense. I reminded her this was all in fun and she said great.  She wanted some fun.

Something hit me then.  A picture of a young blond man, laughing in a photograph.  Then, not being able to help myself, I closed my eyes and saw water and blond hair and tasted salt in my mouth.  My eyes were still closed as I spoke. I could hear the woman’s silent tears.  She asked me to please tell her what the man looked like.  I described the man in the photo: his appearance and how he was so happy.  He was looking down at someone not shown and holding out his hand to them.

The room was so hot.  I could feel the sweat running down my back and even in my closed eyes.  She blew her nose and handed me a tissue for my own tears.  So much for all my make up.  I opened my eyes and looked into hers.  They were the same as the man in the photo.  I waited, confused and even shocked a little by what just happened and by her reaction.

“My brother drowned last year while he was sailing off the coast of BC.  I’ve been hoping and praying that he’s happy and safe and will be my new baby’s guardian angel.  You described him perfectly.”

I told her, besides the water vision and everything, I thought the photograph I saw showed where he is now; happy and content to watch over his family.

She left after I read her stone.  I had to take a break for a while and headed for the door.  When I stepped out into the hall, at least 30 people scrambled to their feet, all waiting to see the Mysterious Mulva.

I saw everyone that day and there were more odd things.  One more that stands out in my memory is of one of my co-workers.  I knew already she was retiring so that wasn’t news.  I didn’t bother with the laptop any more since it just became silly; there were some serious things happening here without it.

So she selected her stone, held it in her hand, and closed her eyes and made a wish.  This is what I had everyone do.  She handed the stone to me.  It was so hot, I dropped it.  We both laughed nervously but I let her pick it up.  Once again I reached for it.  Before I could complete the gesture I said “Africa”.

Taking the stone in my hand I looked at her.  Her face was non-committal. Then I studied the stone. I said to her, “I don’t know why I’m thinking this but there’s a new baby coming to your house.  I think the baby is from Africa and has the most beautiful dark skin.  But the house I see isn’t the house you have now, it’s a different one.  You’re moving soon.”

I looked at the stone again.  “That’s all I have.”  I looked at her expectantly.

She didn’t say much, just thanked me and left really fast.  She looked angry.

Things were winding down.  I was exhausted and amazed at how strong my intuition became the more I used it.  There were countless examples throughout that day.  I was so hot and couldn’t wait to get out of that dress, burn it then sue the pantyhose company.

My co-worker came to my office a week later to tell me that they were indeed moving; buying a house big enough for her, her husband, her married daughter and her husband.  Her daughter just received the news that the baby they hoped to adopt was going to be arriving from South Africa at the end of the month.

I had no words.  She said she had wanted to make sure I wasn’t messing with her, that I didn’t already have the information before we met.  She really thought I had been and it made her pretty angry.  The clincher for her was when the news came of the arrival of her new grandchild after our session.  No one knew of this arrangement with the house and the baby  except for the 4 people involved.

So what does it all mean?  I don’t know.  I don’t care.  There are lots of things that have happened for which I have no explanation for.  But that’s just it.  I don’t need one.  It’s just one of the things that have been with me for most of my life.  It was just never so strong as when I saw 40 or 50 people in one day and really focused.  I made my intuition work overtime.

I’m glad it worked and it worked for them.

One day we’ll talk about when I see dead people.

PS  I’m taking my meds and they are working fine.  Lighten up a little.

Still Got IT Now Take IT Back

Yeah, its been about 48 hours I’ve been a single woman in the big city.  Well the big city part is no biggie since I’ve lived in it all my life.  The single woman part I can live with considering the alternative.  I had things to do today including getting groceries as my daughter will be home today after being with her dad the past week.

Before that though I was off to the hospital where I was fitted with a holter monitor as a follow-up to my hospital visit a couple of weeks ago.  I met the nurse who ripped the shirt right off me that night.  She did it again for old times sake.  I told her how I wrote about her in my blog.  She was so tickled she almost dropped an electrode down my pants.

So here I was wearing a baggy shirt which was now all lumpy and had wires peeping out. Who cares?  I was never, ever one of those women who got dressed up and made-up to pick up milk.  Frankly, I rarely if ever do that anyway.  My hair usually looks as decent as I can get it to be, my clothes are clean and I smell good.  And now my shirt is lumpy with wires sticking out to add to that picture.

After my “fitting” I didn’t drive to my former neighbourhood grocery store but elected instead to explore the one near my new apartment. Same store different neighbourhood.  Not much in the store is different except the people.   Not that I knew everyone or anyone at the other store.  Just familiar faces at the till and in the aisles.

First encounter with a different person was in the freezer section where there was a great sale on pizzas.  Carly loves pizza. Its one of the 5 things she will eat.  There was a woman there, blocking the aisle and the doors to the pizza section of the freezer.  I saw a man approaching, and knowing he would want to attempt to get past the traffic jam, I moved up just enough so he could get by and so I wouldn’t lose my place to nab the freezer as soon as this lady finished reading all the boxes.  I was in no hurry.  Not yet at least.

The man started to pass me then he stopped.  No way was he going to cut in on my turn at the freezer.  Then I smelt him.  Then I looked at him.  He was smiling at me.  Oh boy.  Those were blue eyes.  I couldn’t help it, I smiled back as we both shrugged our shoulders and rolled our eyes.  He asked the lady to excuse him so he could get by.  He waited at the end of the aisle and actually laughed as I leapt for the freezer door.

The woman who had held up all the works leapt upon me too.  She asked me what was on every pizza in the freezer.  It was here I realized I really had to go to the bathroom thanks to the little white pill I take every morning for my swelling.  I told her what I could and then made my own selection.  She wanted to know which ones I picked and why and oh, why am I so polite?  I told her I had to go (indeed I did) so went off to try to finish the shopping before I drowned.

Another aisle.  Same man.  Same blue eyes.  This time he stopped by me in front of the taco shells.  He reached past my head to get hard shells.  He smiled at me and said, “Oh sorry, miss, am I in your way?”

Miss.  He called me Miss.


His very manly scent was making me a little dizzy (I will have to write that on the diary they gave me for my heart monitor).  I was so clever and said, “get outta my way cowboy or I’m gonna have to beat you up.”


He laughed and I smiled again.  By now my face was purple.  He told me it would be worth being beat up by someone with such a lovely smile.  I was so red and smiled again and backed away from the taco seasoning.  He asked about the wires.  I explained in 2 sentences, which, many people know, is not like me. He said he hoped my broken heart would heal.

It was getting hot in there.

I picked up the last 2 things I needed and then I saw the most amazing thing:

That’s better.

As I came out I saw the manly man again.  I actually hid this time.  Then I realized which aisle he was in.  Family planning and in front of the condoms.

Maybe I should just shop at the other store.

Something Comfortable

As my birthday fast approaches (and with it a terrible number I never thought I would see) I’ve realized a few things.  For one thing, I’m a bit of a drama queen.  “Oh no” you scoff.  I can hear you.  I am for sure.  I don’t like it but there it is and there is no 12-step program out there for it either.

Being a drama queen is not as easy as you might think.  Think of all the work involved.  There are many ups and downs in my life that have nothing to do with my brain/mental health/moods.  Granted some do.  I don’t go out of my way to create drama; it just seems to follow me around like my daughter’s explosion of horrible stinking gas delicate fluff as she walks by me in the kitchen.

See? Drama right there.  It’s an art.

I know lots of people have lots of stories about me and drama.  I won’t go into them here although some may try to tell you stories in the comments.  Check with me first.

At this stage/age, I want something different; something more than just drama.

I want to be comfortable.

What does that mean exactly?  Well, funny you should ask that because I’m just about to tell you.

I want to look at myself.  Not just glance in a mirror and swear at my hair but really be able to look at myself and say, “Now that’s just fine”.  When I look at myself I do not want to be looking for the imperfections, (believe me there are more everyday, when will I ever run out?!) and just be happy to see me there.  It’s not just on the outside I feel I’m lacking but I find so many things wrong on the inside too. There was a time I couldn’t sleep nights thinking of more things that were wrong with me.  Dr. G. gave me back my sleep with his amazing combination of meds.  Not only the gift of my sleep, of course; he gave me back my life.  So I do all my fretting in the daytime.

Okay, now that was heavy and rather dramatic but necessary for you to see how desperately I need to be comfortable.

I don’t want to worry about money.  Actually, I don’t mind worrying about money just not as much as I have been these past couple of years.  I hate owing everyone for everything.  This just causes drama and you might have heard I swore off that stuff.

To be comfortable I would have to have good smells around me.  I love good smells.  Freshly mown grass, cookies baking, as long as they’re not baking in my house as that would cause more drama, see.  I would eat them all.  It would not be the daughter crying and carrying on because they’re gone. It would be me because I gained 5 more pounds and I can’t look in the mirror again. I love the smell of healthy sweat.  I always smell my arm after being outside in the sun.  My skin smells almost nutty and smells like the sun.

When I was pregnant with Carly, my sense of smell was so acute that man could not come to bed until he thoroughly showered.  Which he rarely did at the best of times. When he did, though, I always knew if he missed a spot.  Needless to say, he slept on the couch a lot. I had bad smells here last night when the wind turned and the slaughterhouse aromas wafted through my windows.  Nothing like the smell of shit born of fear from cattle being herded to their death.

Oooookay,  a little much, so sorry.

Comfortable would mean having friends I actually see; not just my far-away-friends or my Facebook friends or even my blog or Twitter friends. A group of women who want to get together and yak, have a little wine and try to save the world.  They could be there when I need them and I will always be there for them.  Always.

I have a comfortable relationship with my family, even if it has shrunk the last few years.  I am close to one sister and her family and my kids, of course.  I love them all so much I practically ache.  They mean the world to me and, surprisingly, this intensity is sooo comfortable.  And necessary.

I would like a comfortable relationship with a man who’s not afraid to have a relationship and won’t feel it necessary to mess up ours.  I want Clarence.  He’s my sister’s husband.  Not really Clarence but a man like him.  Someone who knows who he is and comfortable with his life and himselfHe works together with his wife and family to have lives that are fulfilling and their children are more than just socially acceptable.  He sees that his family is nourished, not just with food, but with love, respect and support.  He works hard and doesn’t complain.

I am no longer seeing the fella, Dennis, after a year of giving it a try.  We got close to it but something in both of us just didn’t fit together for the long-term.  Settling isn’t comfortable for me.  I’ve done that too many times already.  Besides, he didn’t seem to think I was so shit hot anyway.  I was ready to move on too.

Ah, now how to get to this point of comfortable?  Smells are easy as long as people don’t mind me telling them how great they smell.  These would be strangers and no one called the cops yet.

I am wiser about money and know I will be more comfortable handling it in the next few months.  I work hard and know that’s the ticket to getting ahead.

I am trying to stay in contact with my women friends in the city.  We all have busy lives.  I see a course or hobby in my future and then I can meet new people who will share my interests.  I’m just not sure what to pursue.  I will do something though but must first search for time.  Once I’m back to work at my second job time will be a premium.  Well, I will find a way.  I put it in writing after all.

Finding a man?  It can wait.  Enough damage done with the last couple of guys.  I really hate the thought of all those firsts where I used to look forward to them.  I don’t want to make small talk or wonder about kissing and heaven forbid getting naked in front of someone again.  I was just getting comfortable with Dennis. 

And no, Clarence does not have any available brothers.

So that’s the plan, what there is of it.  Feel free to voice ideas, thoughts and travel plans in the comments.  I would love to hear from you.