Along the line;

Somewhere along the line, I lost myself.  I lost the music, the art, the words – oh, the words!  I never would have thought.  Me.  No imagination.  No creativity.  No inspiration.

There must be something terribly wrong.  This is just not the way I am.  This is just not me.

My life has changed – I have changed.  What’s more, it’s not for the better.  Life, age, responsibility, money – the fighting, the loving, the fighting.  Oh, the fighting.

The hatred, the words, the hate – where does it come from?  What have I become?  Moreover, what has become of me?  With all I have been, where have I gone?

Who am I?

I am in need.

Warning Boys: Gotcha! (I am Lady, hear me roar);

Everything you think a woman doesn’t know?  Oh, she knows it.

Whether or not we let you in on that little fact, be aware that everything you think you can hide from your Lady you absolutely cannot.  We are observers.  We are analyzers.  We are empaths.  We are perceptive and detail-oriented.  And the suspicion of our male counterparts is innate – we are born protective (think “mother lioness”) and, I would say, just as territorial as our lesser-halves (ha.).

Look, if we’ve decided to be with you it’s because we think you’re the best.  In whatever way is most important to each individual woman (romance, stability, wealth, practicality, attraction), you beat out all your competitors.  You had the flashiest feathers, the sweetest song, the most prevalent battle scars.

Congratulations: you won!  But don’t flatter yourself, it’s just nature.  In the same way that female animals judge the available gene-pool, thus do we.  Though for us it becomes a bit more complex than these physical factors, we too are animals and will protect our property accordingly.

Don’t balk at the word.  It’s how you think of us, isn’t it?

Much of what men try and hide from their women is harmless.  Of course there are more grave situations and hurtful offenses, but what I find my husband most tries to hide from me is something silly, say, eating an unhealthy snack.  What’s even more ridiculous than the fact that he tries to hide it is the fact that he thinks I give a d@mn.  If I, then, point out that he’s got a bit of chocolate icing on his cheek (undoubtedly from devouring the sweet rapidly to avoid detection), he accuses me of “controlling” him.

Really?  Fine.  

Next time I’ll just let you walk around with sh*t on your face.

 

Continue reading

The Hollow Woman: or, the way the World ends —

Depression is a funny creature. Just when you think you are in the clear, She sneaks up behind you and pulls you back in.

Between the desire

And the spasm

Between the potency

And the existence

Between the essence

And the descent

Falls the Shadow

The Hollow Men, T.S. Eliot

Continue reading

A Series of Unfortunate Events: or the plague of the emotional leeches

Recently I have been experiencing major anxiety over my relationships and interactions with my female friends.  As I posted some days ago, I seem to have taken on the role of therapist among them.  This would be okay if just one or another needed advice or a shoulder to cry on at any given time, but it has begun to eat up my whole life.  As a friend of mine put it, they’ve become

emotional leeches

Continue reading

Let’s talk about pride for a minute —

My husband is a proud man.  He is Italian, and – as much as I hate sweeping generalizations – passion and pride are at the top of my list of characteristics of your average Italian (man).  While I do mean passion in the romantic or sexual sense, I also mean in all aspects of their lives.

Continue reading

Nothing to lose: or, already lost it all–

Loss started, for me, with the death of my mother’s mother in 2007.  It wasn’t exactly sudden, although I took it very hard.  She was only 61 and, apart from her Emphysema, extremely healthy.  I will always remember the click and whir sound her breathing apparatus made as she struggled for breath in bed over her last days.  She wasn’t even a smoker.

We were always like two peas in a pod.  Referring to the interests we shared, my mother always said, “It skips a generation.”  It was true – my mother never took any interest in our hobbies.  She sewed, crocheted, beaded, and knitted among other activities – all which she passed on to me.  My Nana was always so proud to show me off to her stitch-n’-bitch groups.  She had also participated in the WAF program which made her one of the first active-duty women in the US Air Force…
Continue reading

That Boy Over There is Dealing Drugs While His Sister Sells Herself–

Have you ever sat on a bench at the park or waiting for the bus or in any number of public places?  Whether or not you speak to the people around you (or even actively observe them), you do tend to notice something about the way they are or what they are doing.

Maybe the boy sitting beside you is rolling a joint.  Or that girl over there has on heels that are too high and a skirt that is too short.  Did those two in the corner just exchange something under the guise of a handshake?  And I wonder if that girl is old enough to be with the man she’s walking with!

Now you’ve seen it.  You can’t unsee it.  You can’t pretend that they’re not there and that it didn’t happen.

But do you take the time

to pass judgment?

Continue reading

The Girl That’s Never Been Dumped: or, why I just can’t help myself–

There are those people that say, “No one has ever broken up with me.”  You know the ones: Girls that are just that hot; boys that are just that wealthy.  Then there are those unfortunately beautiful, tortured souls that have always been the ones left in the wake of relationship after relationship – the ones that are just so good and are incapable of hurting anyone.

Then there are the rest of us.  Those of us whom have been both the heartbreaker as well as had our hearts broken.  It’s normal throughout our lifetimes to hold onto people we’d be better off without as well as to lose those whom we should have clung onto.

That’s life–

I left my first boyfriend the day after I gave him my virginity.  My second boyfriend left me because he wasn’t ready to give his to me.  The first “love of my life” wasn’t able to give me anything because

our decades-wide age gap made it a felony

The Soundtrack of my Life: or, what music and when?

I live life by a Soundtrack.  Music lends itself to any situation.  Whether it be in regards to creativity, productivity, or even your emotional state, music is always there to stimulate and bring to life ideas.

Reading Your Writing Lady‘s post “Should You Listen to Music While Writing?” brought this idea to the forefront.  Whether music is a helpful base or a harmful distraction to your endeavors – well, that’s really dependent on the type of person and the type of music.

Continue reading

Living with Wild Abandon: or, the Bad Boy appeal —

This is an excerpt from my last (rather long, rather verbose) post.  I thought why bad boys have such appeal was a concept that deserved more specific discussion:

My best friend from childhood, the one I always speak about, calls me for relationship advice.  Or, rather, a decision between two “boys.”  She is my age and just as smart, but she is wholly inexperienced in exploring herself and in relationships.  I have been married nearing 5 years, so I can understand her seeking me out for advice.  Especially on such an appropriate query:

M: One of them is so smart and so respectful; he wants to treat me so well, but I just don’t feel it.  The other?  Such a bad boy.  Felonies and DUI’s galore.  A drop-out, a possible drug-dealer – no future, really.  But he’s just so exciting.

Continue reading