Road Trippin'

Good fucking riddance 2018. And that's all I've got to say about that.

The fancy, fancy ceiling of the fancy, fancy hotel

2019 started with a bang this morning. Quite literally...hee hee. I feel as though I should let loose my barbaric yalp (nod to good ol' Walt Whitman). New job, new man, new car (well, new to me). And new experiences! Spent New Year's Eve in Charleston, SC. Color me unimpressed with the city, but the sex was fantastic. (Sorry for the girl talk, Panda). I can highly recommend the Town and Country Inn and Suites. Lovely boutique hotel. I can also recommend jungle fucking your 33 year old boyfriend after welcoming midnight with four shots of Grey Goose, half a bottle of Apothic Brew, a large glass of champagne, and a dip in the Jacuzzi tub. Best. New. Year's. Eve. Evah!!!

Some Enchanted Evening

To many, the story I'm about to lay out may not seem like anything extraordinary, but to me, it's such a change from the heaviness and pain that marred much of the past two years that only one word can describe it: enchanted.

The night began by meeting one of the few gentlemen participating in online dating. He supplied a lovely Cabernet, funny conversation, amazing kisses and then gave me a great deal of pleasure without asking for anything in return except my company. And then he sent me off to work with a homemade meal. That in and off itself was pretty damn magical.

But wait, there's more.

I drive to work and decide to stop for a Coke and a smile. The convenience store clerk serenaded me whilst ringing me up. He thanked me for being a good sport and actually he wasn't a bad singer.

I walk out to my car and it wouldn't turn over. A couple older guys, smoking in the parking lot cheerfully gave me a jump and sent me on my way.

As I sit here in my car, eating my meal and drinking a Coke, car humming and relaxed as a mofo, I wonder what planets aligned and made tonight so enchanted? I don't have an answer, but why question good fortune? I'm choosing to live in this moment, a grin on my face and a song in my heart.

Namaste,
Cindy

Brutality

Today, I bore witness to  so much brutality, I don't even want to be part of the human race anymore. Perhaps I will self-identify as a wolverine or a honey badger or a starving polar bear or something like the aforementioned beasts, something far less vicious than a human.

No, I'm not joining the Furry movement (not that there's anything wrong with that). What the world around me today affirmed was something I already knew having spent a lot of my adult life working retail jobs: so very many people are cruel just for the sake of being cruel. Thing is cruelty has consequences and not usually for the perpetrators of said cruelty. Though really it does, it just doesn't always manifest itself immediately. Cruelty damages the soul.

I won't go into the long list of egregious behavior swirling like a perfect storm around what had been my newfound peace and prosperity. It ranged from verbal abuse to physical violation and oddly enough almost none of it was directed at me, but it affected me. I had to make some hard decisions but in the end I know they were good decisions.

Stand by a friend who made an honest but potentially disastrous mistake. Withdraw my son from an unhealthy environment and kudos to my son for seeing it for what it was long before anyone else did. Stop participating in an argument that's lasted over a decade. Any one of those decisions would have made today exhausting. All combined together and stemming from vastly different pieces of my personal jigsaw puzzle, I am leveled. When I need sleep the most it eludes me yet again.

As I lie here, smirking at the sheep I should be counting, I take comfort in the words of Morrissey: "It's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate, it takes strength to be gentle and kind." To all those affected by the ugliness of the day's revelations, I pray you will be strong. That's all one can do, pray and do the hard thing. Don't pay the brutality forward because then you become no better than the assholes trying to drag you into their world of misery.

To kinder, gentler days, my friends.

Namaste,
Cindy

TMI: How Much Info Is Too Much?

In a new space with the ex. We're chatting about our dates from this weekend and Mr. Just Be Honest with Me tapped out. That's right. He said, and I quote, "I don't need to know all that." Okay, before you shake your head and me and agree with him, all I said was that NG (New Guy) thought it was cute that I am kinda clumsy. What kind of overshare were you thinking? For shame.

I trip. I trip a lot. And no, I'm not talking about shrooms. Hi, my name is Cindy, and I am hopelessly clumsy. I blame it on feet that are far too small for my body. Yes, I know the five foot three girl with the size nine feet reading this is telling me to cry her a river. But let's flip that script. I'm five eight with size six and a half feet. I'm buxom with hips that make grown men cry. All good things, right? Yet, I disagree. It's like putting an orange tree in a tiny terra cotta pot. That thing is gonna topple over. Yep, that's me.

But what was so offensive about the statement, as far as the ex is concerned? Slipping, falling, tripping my own feet, it's all things I've done much to my and HIS chagrin when we've been out. Oh sure, it caused us minutes of laughter, at my expense might I add. But it's not "one of our things". I was a fall hazard long before he met me and that didn't stop once we split. So what about that statement gave him pause. Well, you know me. I had to ask.

This was his reply: "The next time you stumble, I won't be the one to catch you."

Awwwww....damn. No fair, man. No fair.

So being that clumsy damsel in distress was something he found charming about me? Then why was this never expressed when I was his? All I ever heard was, "Heels are a bad choice". Why is it, the things you hate about your partner are the things you find the cutest when you've split?

Now keep in mind this topic was brought up after I expressed that NG is no fan of receiving oral sex. Whaaaaa?! IKR? I was as shocked as you are. We talked about the fact that NG is, let's say financially independent. We even discussed when NG and I would see each other again. So clumsiness didn't seem out of bounds.

Perhaps that speaks to the intimacy of detail. Someone else taking notice of something he thought was his detail. Something he and he alone ever knew about me. Who knew?

Namaste,
Cindy