ok. yeah….

seriously, folks. are we so sick of all of this shit? I mean all of this.

parents who overmanage their offspring, bosses who overmanage their employees, friends who overmanage their friends…

I am sincerely and without regret or apology DONE with the overmanagers.

if you want to do my job, well then, voila! it’s yours.

but , just get the &*$# over it AND yourself. whatever it is.

the parents of children past didn’t worry about whether it was relative to their social “health” (ahem status), they just dropped their kids at point A and picked them up there at the designated time. “what do you want for dinner” and “what time do you have to be at school tomorrow” was sufficient.

BAM. that’s it. that’s all. what??!!

no. there’s no more. faggedaboudit….

 

Dating Conversation…

It might seem silly.     It might seem trite.    It might seem irrelevant.

But IT. IS. REAL

THIS is dating today for those of us 50+.

Me: Hi

Him: I apologize for the late “Hi”. (2 emojis)

Him;  a bit later …”.hereeeee”

Me: Sorry…been pretty busy…(relevant details that an adult faces, children, elderly parents etc)  Oh, and I don’t do major Spartan Races, or that sort of thing…It looks like it’s a requirement for a relationship….so…well, I think I’m out!…

Him: All good! Not looking for a partner for Spartan Races, just someone to  watch me jump the “fire line” (what the hell is that??)…(OH, [swoon…gag-o-rama])

Him 2 days later: Plans for Saturday?

Me: How are you?

Him: You seem too busy …I’ve asked you questions and and all you say is how are you…what gives?

Me: I was actually driving [and quickly responded to apease you] (In my head I said that)….. But I wanted to answer your questions.  I am a very busy person, but isn’t that better than someone who is completely bored with their life…and has nothing else to focus on??? I have exciting projects coming up!

Him:  I’m excited for you…but seriously, I’m busy too..no excuses.  You only communicate every 3 days and most men expect you to communicate every day. At least to find out how we are…When would you find time to be with me? Why are you even on this site? You don’t even have time for a relationship!…Unless of course you are only seeking a physical relationship….I’m just as busy as you are…Don’t say it isn’t so. just saying. It only takes a minute to (declare your undying love-give me a f’ing break) say hello…or to ask how was your day…

Me: (Nothing…cuz at this point, and for real before that, I am SOOOO done.)

Him: I am no longer interested.

Me: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I don’t think he even realized that by saying he wasn’t interested (after I ignored him), that he was ACTUALLY saying he was interested….hahhaahahhaahahahahaha

Good night…

Like I give a F@%*

 

 

 

It might be MY bacon year…

6 degrees of Carol’s bacon-separation…

I swear, it seems over the years, that there isn’t anyone that doesn’t know someone that knows someone who knows someone who I know and who knows me and who either loves, likes or hates me and who I either love, like or hate. Take a breath…seriously.

Ironically, or not, I despise bacon as such. Not THE Kevin Bacon, you understand.  The smell, the taste, the name…just everything about bacon, but my life resembles the BACON PRINCIPLE.

It’s a tad terrifying. Is that a sign? I think not. Bacon is not the metaphor for my comparison. But the Bacon Principle alone. And, I am pretty sure I almost stand alone in my dislike and almost hatred of the fried and cured pig.

When you live in a place for a great number of years, and you have a business that connects people through its association, you will, inevitably, know someone who knows someone…well, you know…

In closing, my statement is:

We are not alone. We are not singular. We are not anonymous. We are here. We are real. We are seen, loved, known, forgotten, ignored, dismissed, admired, judged, envied, belied, abused, revered, praised, exhausted…and so on…

WE. ARE.

That’s all. and that’s everything.

 

Write that book, they say…

It’s time. It’s been time for awhile. I  started 14 years ago with my book…and it IS TIME

IT IS TIME!  But, you know, I have way more material now, and frankly, it is good.      I will certainly be exposed. I will probably offend people. I will also engage people. People who have shared my experiences. It will be glorious. But, at last I will be free and true to it all. And, those of you who love it will know exactly what I mean. I am actually excited about something passionately for the first time in over 10 years.

This is excellent.

It has seemed to me that everyone else is allowed to be exactly who they are without criticism, without judgement, without contrition. Perhaps, it’s my own self doubt and judgement that has restricted my ability to be exactly as I am to all people.  I am ready. It’s like a baptism, like a communion, like a ceremony, like no other freedom that I have known. EVER. And, I. AM. READY. And as frightening as this seems, it is also exhilarating.  I might end up friendless, and I might not. If I am, I will know that all my relationships are conditional, and THAT is a thought I don’t wish to own. Knowing and learning about all kinds of people is what I have done for over 3o years in my professional life. Without acceptance of the various individuals that have crossed my path and that I have shared numerous hours with, I would not have survived. It doesn’t make me exceptional, just accepting. And with the political climate as it is, it has been difficult at best (to say the least).

My only hope is that others can truly accept me exactly as I am, in the way that I am expected to accept them.  Hope springs eternal?  I hope so….

All the world’s a stage…

and all the men and women… and people… and whoever are merely players…

and all of our opinions are like assholes…how does that go?                                        everyone has one and all of them stink?  who knows…I just know that all of this ‘staging’ and ‘posing’ and ‘posturing’ is part of who we are and always has been…

but… as far as entitlements go (and apparently entitlement is an entitlement in todays world), we are definitely entitled to our own opinions, and rightfully so.

i’m not quite sure why opinions are allowed to only those who have them.

 

Truth or Consequences…

That’s right. Truth. Or consequences.

We have the opportunity to be our authentic selves every moment of every day, and, yet, most of us choose to be what we perceive is the expectation of our legitimate selves.

We fear rejection so intensely that to be exposed for ourselves is paramount to complete nudity.

That’s all.

That moment…

you know, THAT moment.

that moment when you realize that one thing.

the thing that you never quite imagined being, or doing, or dealing with for real.

you know…THAT thing…

I don’t need to explain it to you. you KNOW what it is.

So, I will leave it there…

but, you know what I’m talking about…

Analysis…

In the panoramic view of ones life, we must realize that although perspective can be  expansive it is also narrow.

It is right in front of us and yet we can live within the confines of our choosing.

In living “the dream”, which, when compared with the norm, seems, in contrast, to be restricting, is exactly what all others only dare to dream.

 

Getting Miyagi-ed

Yes, that’s what I said, GETTING MIYAGI-ED.  An endearing term administered by my middle child that represents her comprehension of my unsolicited parental advice, which she recognizably accepts as sophic. Can you imagine?!  A parent’s dream is to be heard; perceptibly understood. And the cherry on the top is to be given kudos for being the parent that genuinely chose to parent.

Despite my numerous blunders, as a mother, that were politely overlooked by my children, there seems to have been some appreciation for the potential lesson in the mistakes. The most pronounced of these was in my inability to let go. But, the lesson in all of this was my Miyagi-ness. Although unable to move out of my situation based on fear, it was acknowledged that choices were made for the sake of everyone concerned.

Conviction, Love, Patience, Perseverance…

“wax on, wax off” and so it will be…

The dating game…at 55…

So, you are suddenly single. You’re not 23 anymore or even 4o for that matter, which, from this view, looks quite enticing. You are feeling free. No more tidy whiteys to wash, no more ‘dates’ with a man snoring in a recliner with the TV blaring the History channel.   You get the picture. You finally have control of the remote. The bathroom is all yours! And, you can sleep ALL OVER the bed.  IT IS GLORIOUS…until…you think about…gulp…dating. Frankly, the only way I can describe it is sucky. Your best friend, who is single and has been single longer than you have, says “Join …..this site…it will be fun”.  Uh, okay, sure. You upload your photo from facebook and create a profile outlining your interests and what you are looking for in a relationship. You ‘like’ him, and ‘wink’ at him and wait for a message. You chat and soon you are having your first date. Let me tell you, THINGS HAVE CHANGED.

For instance, in 1984, you didn’t live with anyone before you were married, or at least you didn’t tell your mother. That is for sure. You were 22 for god’s sake!  . You weren’t expected to have ‘sexual relations’ by the third date. You actually met people through friends or at parties, not on a dating site where a photo and a vapid description lands you a date with some guy who has no clue what you do for a living but feigns interest because he just paid for your coffee.

Then,  what’s next? probably nothing. maybe everything.

Let’s say, you DO meet someone randomly, through a colleague or friend, and, there are sparks, it works out, and you actually ‘have a relationship’. At worst, it will end, at best it will endure. Regardless, it’s not like being married; not married to who you were married to for the last million years. Even if the putz you dismissed was not your dream man, you knew how he liked his coffee, and what movies you could both enjoy. And, excitedly, you began to really like this ‘random’ new guy and thought, hmmmm….he might be it. He might be the next Mr. Whoever.  But because you haven’t dated in eons, you don’t see what your best friend sees. This guy is your ex-husband except that you have feelings for this new guy. You don’t wash his tidy whiteys, and he doesn’t snore in the recliner because he is still trying to impress you.  Sigh.  Danger, Will Robinson, Danger! But, you don’t see it. You don’t move on. You DON’T even know the signs of a commitment-phobe because YOU got married when you and your ex were mere children fresh out of the crib – not jaded or cynical or reluctant to take that exhilarating risk to join forces with an equally naive person. AND, you miss that blind faith. You stay there, with that new person, because it is familiar and you seriously have no clue that you are totally comfortable being ‘married but not married’ all over again.

Here comes the kicker. You are ready. Ready to do a repeat performance of the previous life. Permanently. Voila!  You had no idea that the plan was only your plan. You thought that you were on the same page. You are stunned. Thrown for a loop. Wait. Why is this not working out how I thought it would? Your new significant other indicated, in veiled falseness, that his intentions were simpatico with yours.  Flabberghasted comes to mind when you realize that you’ve been duped, or is it dumped. You are suddenly very alone. Alone in your feelings and just plain alone…because he is gone. Poof! Disappeared. Well, shit!  and a slew of other unsavory words. Welcome to ghosting. A modern cowards version of ‘hitting the high road’. I believe sucky was the word I used above. And it is. Sucky.      But, narrowly escaping duplicate entrapment is a blessing, of course, after you have wept weeks of tears, and spilled miles of sorrow to those who will listen.

Moral to this story.

Actually, I don’t know. I am on a journey. A journey that is continuous. Hopefully one that will lead me to my truth. And, if it includes my special someone, it will be glorious once and for all.

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