The Pull of the Moon

Did you see it? The slightest sliver of the moon left against the clouds of the Seattle sky? I was driving home about an hour ago when I spied the faint crescent, and without so much as a thought or warning, tears started rolling down my cheeks.

I left my blog with such good intentions...onward and upward, and all that. For the most part that has been the case and I'm settling well into my life alone. Though somehow still, usually out of no where, I experience something that in one instant creates a sense of awe and thankfulness of the beauty that this life holds, and in the same instant make me keenly aware that I am in the experience by myself. There is no one to witness it with me and no one to share my awe. I am nearly mortified at the sudden and intense longing to feel the warmth of a man's body sit next to me on the porch while our eyes scan the night sky. It is a feeling that must be akin to that of a phantom limb; a feeling so natural and so real that it seems nearly impossible that it really is no longer there. I don't know if that makes me weak, or unfocused, or pitiful, but I do know that I need to share this with someone, and at this moment that someone is you.

Okay, I know I said I was done with this blog, but this posting is of a completely different subject matter than all of the rest. Ultimately it comes back to processing the same crap that I’ve addressed here before, but with a political twist. In a way it is just a very long comment in response to another blog written by a friend of mine.I don't know how to do the cool hyperlink thing but it's the January 8th posting at http://matterdays.blogspot.com/ .I call him a friend, even though our interactions have been limited to e-mail (Matt, when ARE we going to do lunch?). Part of me wants to be ultra-careful in my wording, but instead I’m going to put my relative ignorance out there open for all to comment, criticize, or otherwise respond to. You just have to remember, this is not so much an opinion as it is a process for me.

So…Let’s talk about gay marriage, shall we?

I understand the principal behind the fight for the right to marry, but ultimately I don’t REALLY understand it. Honestly, my issue probably has to more to do with the sanctity of marriage, but not in the regard that the right wing has proposed. Some of the gay couples I know are far more committed to one another than a lot of husbands and wives I know. My issue is not with the sanctity of gay marriage so much as the sanctity of marriage itself. Now, I have to preface this by stating that 1) I have been married, so 2)like 50% of Americans, I also have been divorced. 3) I work in a law firm where about a third of the cases are family law. These facts alone leave me a tad jaded, but let me continue: 4) My ex-husband was an ordained evangelical minister, 5)who is now openly gay.

I say these things only that you may have some mercy on me as I express what may be horribly twisted thinking on the matter.

From a legal stand point alone I understand why the courts keep ruling against gay marriage. The amount of time, money and energy that is spent in our court systems to process dissolve marriages is unfathomable. I watch people come out of the attorneys' offices regularly, their faces stained with tears as they face not only the horrible reality of a broken marriage, but the fact that they will probably spend tens of thousands of dollars to break it. When I got divorced, I did not use the services of an attorney, so I got to stand before the commissioner with the masses of other people who were also too broke or too cheap to pay for legal help. Among those individuals was a couple who had been married for less than a year. How do I know that? Because our firm was representing the wife on a completely different matter, and she and I had a discussion about it at the office. We just happened to end up in court the same day. The two of them were amicable enough, as they stood behind me chatting. The husband, in what I later found out was a sad and disgusting attempt to pick me up (how sick is THAT? I guess it happens all the time though) says “It’s a drag they make this thing (meaning marriage) so easy to get into, and so hard to get out of, huh?”

My thoughts exactly.

Now, I could spend another couple of hours addressing my fucked up theology on the matter along with the fucked up nature of the church, but I think I’ve got enough to chew on right here. Matt addressed in his blog the irony of this “sanctified union” with its Las Vegas road-side chapels and 55 hour long marriages. So here is my question: Why exactly would a couple who knows and has expressed their commitment to one another want to muddy it by making it legal when the very definition of it has gone so awry? I understand that it is a step in widening the acceptance of gay relationships, but I would dare to say that over the years much would be lost in the way of commitment. As it stands a gay couple can hold a ceremony before their friends and family, committing their lives to one another. It takes a great deal of contemplation and guts to go against society’s flow and make that kind of pledge. How long would it be before gay couples began entering a legally binding relationship in the same haphazard manner that heterosexual couples do? I think it would be akin to first-generation Americans and their appreciation for freedom, compared to most of us who take it for granted and just plain abuse it.

If you ask me, the right-wing has missed the point (once again) of the sanctity of marriage issue. What would happen if the time spent protesting gay marriage was spent on cleaning up this “sanctified” union. What if we filtered some of the money spent in the courts to therapists who provided mandatory pre-marriage counseling? What if the "witnesses" had to pledge to uphold their friends in their time of marital distress? Do you know that you have to file a motion to dissolve a marriage, but you have to wait 3 months to enter a final decree before you are finally divorced. You only have to wait 3 DAYS for a marriage license! And let’s talk about Biblical marriage: When Mary was pregnant with Jesus she was “betrothed” to Joseph. That doesn't mean she had a shiny ring on her finger and was flipping through Brides Magazine on the weekends looking for the perfect dress. Betrothal was nearly as binding as marriage; it just wasn’t set in stone yet. Why don’t we do that now? Do you know how many people change their minds and reconcile between the time the motion for dissolution is filed and the decree is entered? Quite a few. I bet if we made people wait three months to decide if they really want to marry or not there would even more changed minds.

In the Netherlands a legal union is allowed between three people. It has a different name and follows slightly different guidelines than traditional marriage, but its legal none-the-less. What if we did the same thing with gay marriage? Why don’t we allow committed individuals within the gay community, who long to make their union official, define to the courts what that union means and entails? Perhaps in a few short years heterosexual couples who truly value their commitment would began to petition the court for the allowance to unify under the title created by that very community.

Just a thought...but what do I know? Quite honestly I'd love a little input here.

Moving Toward Infinity

Last December I joined the throngs of people who feel the need to cast their thoughts upon the world wide web. Just over a year. It's mind-boggling the difference a year can make. I read my initial entries and the person reflected there is not the one I see in the mirror today. I think my choice of titles said it all: Counting Backwards. Sometimes you have to go back and figure out where and how you went wrong. I remember the feeling in school when I would work through an equation, sure that I had arrived at the correct answer, only to find that in the end it was anything but. Sometimes identifying the step that caused the error took longer than solving the equation in the first place. I don't know that I've actually solved anything, but I'm ready to start the next problem. I only wish things were as black and white as getting the answers in life right or wrong, but I have also come to appreciate the beauty in the fact that nearly everything is a varied shade of gray.

I had coffee this morning with my football coach/calculus teacher...you know, the really healthy, stable and somewhat dull man that I blew things with...or so I thought. Before I continue I must note that I had coffee, he had cocoa - yet another clear indicator that we are indeed incompatible. I am a firm believer that the greatest conversations in the history of civilization occur over steaming cups of coffee. But besides his obvious dysfunction in that regard, it turns out he has a few issues of his own. Guess what? Apparently we all do. There was a wonderful sense of finality in our conversation, not only of our relationship, but of so much more. It was an ending that has finally thrust me into a new beginning.

See, I realized that I have not managed to go more than a month - or maybe two - without some sort of love interest in quite a long time. I determined that if, and when, I wrapped things up with Mr. Calculus that I would commit to being completely single - not even a date - for at least six months. Sure, at first it was motivated by the agony that exists at the end of every great romance, but was quickly replaced by the strong desire to simply be content within the context of my own life. MY life - the one I have created. Looking around though, I don't know that I'd want to take up permanent residence here. To get where I want to be is going to take a tremendous amount of vision and energy, and I don't think I can waste a drop of it on pursuing a relationship with someone who's course will eventually veer from mine. Until I set my own course, how is anyone to come along for the ride?

So to that end, I must say adieu. Maybe I'll start another blog. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll actually start going to bed at a decent hour instead of sitting at my computer. Maybe when I get there I will finally learn to sleep comfortably in the center, since that is where "my side" of the bed really is.

Good night.

Why the Cynicism?

I've had a few bad days as of late since it seems I have successfully sabotaged the best shot at a healthy relationship I may ever get(you'll have to read my prior post to see what the hell I'm talking about) so a friend of mine sent this to me today:



My first thought was "What a freak!" Any guy holding a sign offering free hugs must be a pervert. Why would I think that? Well, probably because for the most part it's true. It honestly took me quite a while to wrap my brain around the fact that this guy's intention may actually be to give rather than to take. That is more an indictment of myself than of anyone else. What would happen if I were to assume that people had good intentions unless they proved to me otherwise? I mean, what's the worst that could happen...I mean, besides being raped and murdered? Who knows, but here is a true confession: When my ex-husband was in the middle of his identity crisis and I was shriveling up for lack of love, I would have given my left arm to run into this guy (okay, maybe not an entire arm, but perhaps a digit or two). Instead I would go see my chiropractor. I wasn't attracted to him, or anything like that. It had absolutely nothing to do with sex or attraction, but the feeling of strong arms wrapped securely around me...even if the final result was a sickening crack. I know, it's messed up. No wonder I couldn't keep the ultra emotionally healthy football coach around. What can I say?

Certain Chemistry

There are some areas in life where you simply accept that you can not have your cake and eat it too. I am well aware of the fact that I can not have Ben and Jerry's on a nightly basis and still fit into my skinny jeans. I know that in order to continue to live in the peace I have found in being debt-free that I can't take expensive vacations and own a lot of nice things. Sometimes Ben and Jerry and Macy's calls my name, but I have found the balance of when to indulge and when to deny myself those gratifications in order to keep the priorities that ultimately make me a happier person. I'm beginning to wonder if there are similar choices to be made in choosing love. Yes, I said "choosing", because ultimately I believe that love is a choice.

I went into Belltown today and took in the eclectic mix that can only exist in Seattle. I adore Seattle. It is a quirky, intelligent and artistic city that maintains a certain coziness with it's melancholy cloud cover, and never ceases to engage the senses. It is the same reason I loved him. Perhaps that should not be past-tense. Perhaps I still do love him. Along the same line, Seattle is a great place to visit, but not as great of a place to live and raise a family. I have found residence outside the city limits, in the suburbs, in the safety of my cul-de-sac. I can visit Seattle anytime. In essence I can have my cake (or insanely delicious Thai food) and eat it too.

One of the places I visited today brought him to the forefront of my senses. He loved that place. We loved that place. We'd go there, and then across the street to have Phad Thai and Mojitoes. Slightly buzzed we'd go back to his place, into his bedroom with the quirky pictures and lights around the window and make love late into the night. Afterwards he'd sometimes grab his guitar out of the stand by the bed (which incidentally serves as a decent clothes hangar) and lie naked, one leg crossed over the other and play Bee-Gee's songs, singing in a ridiculous, yet eerily accurate falsetto voice. I'd laugh so hard. He always knew how to make me laugh.

We agreed that that neither of us were ready for something serious, but eventually my heart began to spill over the perameters we had set and I had to say goodbye. I didn't tell him how I really felt: That I adored him to his core and could spend every minute of everyday in his prescence. I didn't allow myself to shower him with the care and kindness that I am capable of because I felt that utimately, it would have been a wasted gift bestowed upon someone who would not recognize it for it's value. By the time I brought myself to tell him, he had began to see someone else, and it sounded as though the relationship was rapidly tumbling toward something more committed. I had to wonder what it was that kept him from diving in head-first with me. He explained that what had happened between him and her was an "organic" and "unexpected attraction", that "certain chemistry".

Is there a "certain chemistry"? One that can stand the test of time?

Upon return to my house in the burbs, there was a message from the man that I have been spending a fair amount of time with, though I have not yet come to the place where I can call him my "boyfriend". He wanted to know when he could come over and fix my garage door. I've never dated a man that can "fix stuff". He can fix anything and everything. If I had a dime for everytime he said "I can help you with that", then perhaps I'd be able to purchase some of those afor mentioned nice things I've been denying myself. He teaches calculus and coaches football. I've never dated anyone who was more analytical than artistic or who could sit through an entire football game. He excersises faithfully and weight trains. When he wraps his strong arms around me and I stand against his broad chest, I feel incredibly safe. He adores me in ways that I have never experienced before; he is thoughtful and kind and is careful to hear not only the things that I say, but listens to the expressions of my body and of my eyes. He sometimes can articulate what it is that I am feeling before I am even able to. He is strong and masculine but becomes incredibly tender in his acknowledgement of my femininity. He is careful to regard my boundaries, and though I am tentative he refuses to hold back in expressing his adoration and care. Because of this, my heart grows fonder and fonder of him by the day. He doesn't like Thai food, though.

At times I feel badly about not being reciprocal, but he has reassured me that he is in no hurry and that the things he does and says are not meant to influence my decisions. He has come to a place in his life where he has decided to be true to his heart and love regardless of the threat of rejection. "Even if you walk away today" he says "I'll never regret the things I've said to you or done for you. It would be far worse to look back 10 years from now and wish that I had, knowing that I might have let the best thing in my life slip away out of fear". My heart was pierced.

Would he have loved me if I had been true to my heart? Or would he have "settled" for me, even if we didn't have that "certain chemistry" because I loved him enough for both of us? Would I have wanted that? Certainly not. Could I have loved him like that forever? I have to wonder. I had visions today of driving to his house and seeing him for the first time in months just to find out if my heart would still flutter. I imagined telling him everything, with absolutely no expectation of reciprocation, just so he could know. I now know how good it feels to be adored by someone. I wish I had let my defenses down enough to express that to him then so that he could have known that feeling as well. I am aware though, that he would never care for me the way John does. Even though I could listen to him for hours, I know he would never search my eyes in order to hear the expressions of my soul...and I am damn sure he'd never be able to change the oil in my car. I know eventually that I might become resentful of those things, and in that time, would I have been able to love him in spite of it?

Is there a "certain chemistry" and is it necessary to have a successful relationship? If it is, then John and I don't stand a chance. I will break his heart and probably wonder if I made a mistake. With him I am safe. Is it possible to find that chemistry and with it find a sense of safety and security? Can chemistry be trusted or is it merely something that blinds us into making poor decisions?

Long showers or low electricity bills?

Stay up late to watch my favorite show or be rested enough to successfully navigate my day?

Passion or stability?

Safe or sexy?

I fear it is an inevitable choice to be made.

The New No-Fail Weight Loss System

Since I currrently don't possess the fortitude required to come up with my own witty entries, I'll have to convey someone else's story. Too funny.

I was in Wal-Mart buying a large bag of Purina for my Labrador Retriever and was in line to check out.

A woman behind me asked if I had a dog. On impulse, I told her that no, I was starting The Purina Diet again, although I probably shouldn't because I'd ended up in the hospital last time but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms. I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry & that the food is nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again.

I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my story, particularly a tall guy behind her.

Horrified, she asked if I'd been poisoned. I told her no; I'd been sitting in the street licking my balls and a car hit me. I thought the tall guy was going to have to be carried out the door.

Current Devolopments

Among the many long forgotten items one is bound to find in moving from home to home, I discovered a drawer containing rolls and rolls of undeveloped film. I have no idea what these pictures are of, or the events they are from, or even how old they are. They all look the same in their little black canisters topped in their grey lids. I know that most of the snapshots contained therein are probably mediocre at best since, as I've mentioned before, I'm a bit visually challenged. However, I also know that somewhere in there I will most likely find a picture that will make me pause and remember an event even more beautifully than it may have even been in reality.

I'm afraid that is what you are looking at this moment. A big drawer full of undeveloped film. The page that you now view was in no way intended to serve as some sort of journal. It existed only as a means by which to rediscover the creativity that lay dormant for so many years; a canvas on which to paint the portraits of scenes that I can feel, but somehow can not see. It is dark room, where various snapshots come to life by allowing the frames their due process. Sometimes they portray startling reality and sometimes it is just art, loosely inspired by those truths. I've tried to avoid posting the mundane, the blurry and the indistinguishable.

Today I forsake this intended purpose by conveying my current thoughts, simply because I can not stop long enough to get perspective and start that process once again. I suppose it is just the sorry plight of single parenthood. I can only provide you sorely underdevoloped snapshots that have not been allowed time to transform into the art that may be possible. I have attempted to open pieces that I started some time back and am actually entertained by my some of my own writings (is that okay to admitt?). I simply lack the emotional energy required to go back to them. I just need time to sit quietly in the dark room. For now, I can only steal a moment at my desk, close my eyes, and pray for restoration of vision to see the things that can only be found in the dark.