things i need to say

Cam, I love you. Always will. But I said goodbye to you this year and I'm still ok. That is a miracle.

Lee, you were good for my ego. But I still didn't want to fuck you. And I'm glad about that.

Gram & Gramps, I miss you and I think of you often. I hope you're dancing.

Maria, I love you so much more than you know. My heart is broken that you can't let yourself love me back. I miss hugging you and the way you used to say goodnight Mom, I love you, God bless, see you in the morning--those 4 things, always in that order. Please find forgiveness. I long for the day when you realize that everything's not always black or white. Life is so grey. And sometimes things happen and no one is to blame.

Christie, you're so beautiful and sweet with so much to give. I see myself in you. Please don't make the same mistakes that I did. You need to learn how to communicate better and face your fears.

My dear boss, I am so thankful that you survived. You have 6 months of chemo ahead, but you are alive and you have your spirit back. You really scared me. I never knew I cared so much about you until I almost lost you. You are a great man with friends too numerous to count. The power of love is phenomenal.

Rob, you never cease to amaze me. You are goodness in every way. I have grown so close to you and I often think about spending the rest of my days and nights with you. I dream of marrying you in the woods, just you and me among the chipmunks. And making love there. You are the greatest lover, and together we are God. I love our history and I love the fact that we are friends first and foremost. It sounds silly, but I never had that in a partner before. I love how you give me the freedom to explore, even when it takes me away from you. That takes courage. And you have the desire to really know me, in every way. You know I need that.

the christmas pickle

This is the first Christmas that Rob and I agreed to exchange presents. It's our 3rd Christmas together, but until now we always agreed not to exchange. Basically, he's a Christmas rebel, i.e. he does not believe that one should be obligated to give gifts just because it's December 25th. He'd rather buy me something special when he feels like it. Plus, he refuses to get caught up in the commercialism of Christmas. And that's how our relationship has been until now.

This year I changed it up a bit (with his agreement, of course). I wanted to surprise him by taking him to dinner and overnight at a nice inn about an hour's drive from here. That should warrant a blog entry of its own. But until then, my point is that I think I've put him in a spot.

He asked me what I wanted for Christmas. Then I asked him, "well, what were you thinking?" cuz I feel strange just blurting out what I want. It seems so selfish, so I was fishing for some help. He said he'd been thinking of getting me a necklace for some time. Hmmm, I thought. He said a necklace, or a laptop. And he quickly explained that a laptop would be meaningful in that he fully supports my need to write, to express myself. I currently share my desktop with 2 teenage daughters, so you can appreciate that a laptop would bring me a lot more computer time (theoretically) and opportunity to escape to my bedroom and write.

So the pickle he's currently in is that in the whole month of December I have chosen neither a necklace nor a laptop. It is Christmas Eve and tomorrow morning he will be opening a present from me. He does not have a present to give to me. Which I don't mind, of course, but can you see what I've done to him?

I have decided that I want a laptop, but have been in no hurry to go pick one out. I keep assuring him that we will go get one after Christmas. In the meantime, dare I say what I really want is a ring. Damn me. I wonder if that's why I can't get my shit together. Of course I wouldn't dream of breathing a word of it. Cuz I know that would make him uncomfortable. And how awkward to ask for a ring. Even though it would be far from an engagement ring.....so...for this year I'll be practical and go with the laptop.

Next year I'll get a ring.

merry christmas eve

Holy smokes, where have I been? I feel like I've been swallowed by the month of December. Now that it's Christmas Eve, and everything's ready to go, I'm just coming up for air.

What I think about Christmas Eve is that it is perhaps the most magical night of the whole year. After the intensity of all the preparation, the stress of shopping, and spending, and baking and wrapping and the onslaught of crappy weather.........it all dies down to a hush on this night.

Everything stops for a moment and it seems that the true meaning of Christmas emerges. For me it's a chance to breathe it in. It's highly emotional as I am reminded of how blessed I am. Sure there are plenty of presents under the tree, but it's not even about that. I'm healthy, I have a decent job, and freedom. But more than anything, it's about the love I feel.

Love for my girls, my family, my boyfriend Rob, and God. And pretty much everyone else. The more love I feel, the more I get. I wish the same for everyone on this planet. Merry Christmas Eve.

a feel good moment

The best way to feel good about
yourself is to do something good for someone else.

I just had the most heartfelt moment. Coming home from work in the pouring rain I was about to turn onto my street, but had to maneuver around a car that had pulled to the side. I made it up my driveway into my garage when I saw headlights behind me. A little old woman got out of the car and skittered up my driveway. She asked what street this was and how to get to her street.

When I tried to explain the simple directions, she became very confused and started to panic. I felt how scared she must be, disoriented by the dark and glare that the rain caused. I said if she just gave me a moment I would get in my car and lead her to her street. And so I did.

About a mile away, I turned onto her street and pulled to the side. I walked back to her car. She was smiling, relieved. She said this was her house and promptly invited me in for coffee...what a sweetheart. I had to decline as my daughter was waiting for a ride, but I wished her a Merry Christmas and honked a friendly goodbye. She stood in her driveway, in the rain, waving me off.

She had said, "Bless you for years and years for helping me". Little did she know I'd already been blessed. I'm blessed every day of my life, in fact. But driving the mile back home to get my daughter I was overwhelmed with the warm and fuzzies. It was an instant reward. I couldn't wait to share my story with my daughter, and with you.

christening the new couch

Rob's new leather couch and chair were delivered today. They're very yummy. After fussing with the final placement of the furniture --2 inches that way...no, back an inch your way--we decided to try it out.

It took awhile for the leather to warm up enough to consider letting it come into contact with me. It had been sitting in a subfreezing delivery truck for God knows how long. When the time came Rob laid me down on it, my head resting on the soft arm. It made a perfect pillow. He climbed on top and warmed me all over with his hungry body.

He got up to peel my pants off, and then his. I liked what I saw and what I felt. By this time the leather had warmed underneath me, so when he climbed on top I was a toasty little sandwich. We made some pretty hot love. I was afraid this afternoon delight would leave its mark on the new purchase. He was disappointed afterwards that it hadn't. Apparently I was more concerned about his new furniture than he was. What I learned today is that leather is quite forgiving.

Two thumbs up!

she's baaaack...

When I started this blog my intention was to explore and share my passions with whoever would listen. My life had most recently been blessed with great relationships, and great sex, plus other exciting adventures typical of a woman newly single by choice. My friends were fascinated on a daily basis and a few were even living vicariously through me.

In the past month, however, I felt myself falling out of Dinamode, weighted by new pressures at work. Other issues piled on adding to my stress and before you know it, I felt rather dull. Dinamo was deflated and sex took a bit of effort the last few weeks. Dreadful.......

But things are looking up now and I am happy to report that Dinamo's back. I've just emerged from a very fulfilling weekend and learned something I should have realized all along. I discovered that my desire for sex with Rob is directly proportional to the degree to which I open my heart to him. Elementary? Yes.

I have gone through these cycles with him before, but never realized it was my doing until now. I always assumed that it was because we were spending too much time together, or it was the usual ups and downs of a relationship or my hormones affecting my desire.

But it's none of those things. My desire is dependent on my willingness to allow the love to flow freely between us. My willingness to get totally lost in the moment with him, to let our bodies meld and our souls speak in their silent language. To hang in the balance of trust and let emotion completely take over. We are rewarded with the most powerful pleasures and a deep love that carries us for days.

This is bliss. This is the passion I want to write about. This is me. And life is good.

"The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire."

~ Field Marshal Ferdinand Foch

snoopy's bored

I came home tonight to a little note from my friendly next door neighbor:

"Your dog has again barked all day long (as he often does)."

Despite the obvious irritation that caused him to make his point three times in one sentence, I did empathize with my neighbor. It would drive me nuts too, to hear a dog bark all day long, even if the sound was muffled by a wall between us.

After feeling a pang of guilt (I wasn't aware this was happening), I felt really sad about how lonely and bored my little beagle must be. I work full-time and my girls are in school till 3pm every day, so he lives here alone for many hours a day. Side note: It was never my choice to get a dog. My ex brought him home for Maria one day, against my wishes. I love Snoop dearly, but back then I knew it would be a long term commitment that I didn't want to make. Now I make the best of it because Snoop is a member of the family.

One more issue to deal with. Add it to my list of broken computer, 10 hour work days, my boss in ICU for 3 weeks now, trying to stay on the good side of a new interim boss, Christmas season approaching, struggles with 17-yr old daughter and PMS. I don't mean to complain, just painting a picture.

I do want my dog to be happy. And my neighbor. And me. So, I'm brainstorming to solve this problem. Idea #1 is taking Snoop for a walk every morning before I leave for work. I think I'll try this before I suggest idea #2 - asking if the neighbors would like Snoop to visit them during the day. They're a retired couple, so I figure they might like the company.

And who wouldn't fall for those velvety ears and sad puppy eyes?

change is good

I know, change is the latest buzzword, but really change has been around forever. We can't live without it. In fact, if we're not changing, we're stagnant. Or dying? Maybe I'm pushing it too far, but my point is that change is a necessity. So you might as well embrace it instead of fear it.

Usually I'm ready for change and I'm the one who instigates it. Today I've been challenged. I was informed of a change that will surely affect my life. I've been assigned an interim boss until my ailing boss returns--which will likely be at least 6 months. (At least it appears he is improving. Still in ICU, but now breathing on his own.)
The fill-in boss was hired 4 months ago and has wreaked havoc on the department she currently runs. Morale of her team has taken a serious dive, as well as business, but for some odd reason the company thinks she's great. And now they've promoted her to oversee my department too. God help us all.

However, the silver lining is this: there's gotta be something in this for me. I figure either I'm going to learn something valuable from this woman, or from working with her, or it's the kick in the pants I need to rework my resume and find something better. Actually I've been thinking about moving along since last March, so I'm not surprised I've attracted this whole chain of events.

"The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may

also be the beginning."

- Ivy Baker Priest
"We know what we are, but know not what we may be."

- William Shakespeare
"The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we

are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled.

For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are

likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers."

- M. Scott Peck
"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent,

but the one most responsive to change."

- Charles Darwin
"Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to

go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect

a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death."

- Anais Nin

Now, if I can just keep my thoughts moving in a positive direction...

the larger the glass

...the better the wine tastes.

Friday night is typically 'laundry and whiskey night'. The peeps at work know this about me. Off I go at 5:00, heading home to an empty house (my girls almost always have plans Friday night). It's my chance to both relax and get a head start on the weekend. I rarely see Rob on Friday nights. This night is mine.

Laundry is my main focus Friday evenings. Pitiful, yes, but I make it a much sweeter job by sipping a glass (or 2) of whiskey. No mixer, no rocks, just a slow trickle to tickle me, taste by taste.

But tonight I've traded my whiskey for wine. Shiraz. In a very large glass. Ample room for swirling and playing with the ruby red potion. A good red wine needs space to breathe and the freedom to dance in the glass. Kind of like...me! I am rewarded by its fragrant full body as it subtly leads me to a gentler place, warming me from the inside out.

I surrender my worries and pent up frustrations from the week. The wine clears my slate and makes life easy again. Life is good.

blessings for my boss

This marks week 3 of my boss's hospital stay. He had severe abdominal pain which turned out to be a cancerous tumor. It has since been successfully removed and he was told the cancer had not spread. But in the past week he's taken a turn for the worse and I'm not sure why.

So, bottom line is, I'm worried about him. And a little about myself too. I've been left to hold down the fort at work. Not only am I missing a good friend and boss, but I have no support right now. Upper management doesn't really give a shit what I'm going through. It's as if they are oblivious to the fact that the work he used to accomplish in his 60 hour week has to be picked up by someone. Hello!!!!

I find it really hard to focus on anything at work. I go from one task to another, not finishing anything. But I've got to get myself out of this emotional hole I'm in. I owe it to him to take care of things while he's away. Pray for him please, I need him back soon.

clytie waited

Waited

Hit the ground
Weighed down again
You walked out
But I'm sure you're my friend

It must have been good
This can't be for good
Everyone's...Is everyone ok

I waited, oh I waited
But I must be too dumb to be proud
Because I waited, waited

Woke to sounds
I prayed you were there
I fell back down
But I'm sure you still care

It must have been good
This can't be for good
Everyone's...Is everyone ok

I waited, oh I waited
But I must be too dumb to be proud
Because I waited, waited

This song by Our Lady Peace touches me. So does the story of Clytie. They remind me of Cam, how our relationship ended this year, and how I eventually saw the light. I thought he was the love of my life.

Clytie was a mythical character, a water nymph. She was in love with Apollo, the god of light and sun, who was also in love with her at one time. For reasons she couldn't accept, his love turned away from her towards someone else. She continued to pine for him, sitting on the cold ground and refusing any food or drink for nine days. She was sustained by her tears and the dew from the grass surrounding her.

Every dawn she gazed toward the sun, following it (him) through the hours till sunset. She was fixed on the thought and the sight of him. They say her limbs rooted in the ground, her face became a sunflower, which turns on its stem to face the sun throughout the day.
She waited.
Too long.

beautiful men

What makes a man truly beautiful? Obviously it's more than a hot body and face. It's a combination of looks and personality. Personality can go a really long way in making a guy attractive. In fact, a gorgeous man with a bad personality is just a waste of time, unless he's on a poster.

I love a man with a great sense of humor. And confidence. Intelligence helps too. Add to that a hot body and great face and you've likely got yourself a winner.

OK, so now that we've determined I'm not completely shallow in real life, let's have some Hollywood fun. I don't know any celebrities personally to judge how 'beautiful' they are on the inside, but there are a few that are looking pretty good on the outside. I have my handful of favorites. Don't you?

On the first day of my blog I posted one of my all-time favorite photos. Simply one of the most beautiful men I've seen--Jason Lewis (better known as Smith on Sex and the City). I loved his long hair best, but his nicely chiselled face does me just fine too. Seeing him naked in the Absolut vodka ad makes me just want to touch his skin and possibly taste him.

A real fan of the series, I was a little less enthused with him in the Sex and the City movie. His acting kind of sucked. I loved in the series when he shaved his head along with Samantha whose hair was falling out from the chemo. That was friggin' moving, and that's basically how I fell in love with Smith. Bet I'm not the only one.

Another beautiful man is Sting. The man's got class. He's fascinating, intelligent and is aging like a god. I'd love to have dinner with him. Look at those eyes!!!! I thought he was cool since I first saw him in The Who's Quadrophenia.

I've always liked Robert Downey Jr. Now I'm a real sucker for blue eyes, but there's something about his dark, dark eyes that captivates me. Did you see him in Restoration? I get wet every time I see the expression on his face when Meg Ryan's character massages his crotch with her foot. Was that acting? Looked pretty authentic to me. And what good woman doesn't need a bad boy to fall for? He's had his troubles, but then everybody's got something.

Anyone remember Jon Erik Hexum? He was damn gorgeous. Too bad he's dead. Accidentally killed himself on the set of a movie in 1984. He was fooling around with a gun (a prop), holding it to his head. Not realizing the impact that shooting blanks would have, he pulled the trigger. Boys will be boys. But he was a fiiiine one. He's at the top end of the scale of nicely muscular without being gross. I bet nothing jiggled on him.

And I don't care if he's old and bald, Ed Harris also makes my list of beautiful (famous) men. I loved him in Apollo 13. He's been great in every role I've seen. Pollock, Milk Money, Radio, A Beautiful Mind.

And speaking of bald men, Howie Mandel tickles more than my funny bone, Sean Connery, though a sexist bastard, is still pretty sexy. I remember as a young girl thinking Yul Brynner was attractive in The Ten Commandments. Bald IS beautiful, as long as the man carries himself with confidence.

apples of my eye

Both my daughters have boyfriends and I'm cool with that. Maria is 17 and Christie is 13. Frankly, this house runs a lot smoother when everyone has a man (or boy!) to smile about. Skews the hormones from major attitude to happiness which is a big relief in a house of 3 women. We also go through a helluva lot of toilet paper, but that's another story.

Rob's daughter Jennifer is 14 and has had boyfriend adventures for a couple years now, so we often compare notes. We also tease each other about what these young ladies are doing with their boyfriends. I've never fretted over Maria's relationships because we've talked openly about sex since she was a wee one. I never overreact to what she tells me, nor do I condemn her for her actions, because they really have been responsible.

But it was only recently that my baby Christie started referring to her boyfriend as buff, hot, and mentioned how they stare into each others' eyes. O...K...

When I related this to Rob he laughed at me and said, well the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it? Was this supposed to make me feel better? Considering I was only a year older than she is now when I lost my virginity, I have some concerns. Also because Christie and I are like 2 peas in a pod. She looks like me, acts like I did at that age (and a little even now), and has some of the same weaknesses as I did/do. So what's a mama to do?

Lee cont'd.

I wanted to know, what did Lee think of me?

To find out I had to let him close enough to see the real me. We spent the first day doing a lot of talking. It was a crash course in getting to know each other. Although we were hitting it off amazingly well all day, it wasn't until we said goodbye at 9 that night that we hugged. He felt good. Solid. I held onto him beyond the norm of a friendly hug. I eventually asked, "Am I hugging too long?" to which he replied, "No, I've been thinking about getting close to you all day." I smiled all the way home.

Day 2 was more challenging. I had only been able to sleep for 4 hours the night before, after my adrenaline levels returned to normal. Shit, this was exciting! Plus I'd put more food and alcohol into my system than usual and it was rebelling a bit. Nevertheless, I leapt into day 2 with abandon. After business lunches and meetings were out of the way, we found ourselves alone in his hotel room again.

He made his first move by sitting on the couch close to me. I leaned against him to show my approval. This was my cue to get some questions answered. When we were talking about our own living arrangements, I mentioned that I couldn't imagine him being alone. He said that he dated, but nothing serious because his plate was pretty full with business and his daughter being with him every other week. What I really wanted to know was if we lived in the same city, would he date me. I asked it, just like that. He kind of laughed at first. When I pressed for an answer, he said of course.

Over the next hour or so, he touched my leg, my hand, commented on my painted toenails, I touched his leg, laid my head on his chest, asked to rub his back, felt his muscular back and neck, let my fingers wander through his hair a little, kissed the back of his neck, was pulled on top of him (sitting, straddling him), got groped a little through my clothes, but we never kissed.

I don't mind so much that we didn't kiss. Maybe that was his way of staying detached. (I'm sure that it helped me.) Anyway, it was his words, not his body, that I wanted to take away from this whole experience. And I got what I wanted. At one point in the steamy groping he said you must be-- then he hesitated, searching for the right words, and continued --a very beautiful lover.

There was no response from me. It was no time to be modest, or to confirm his words. I was simply appreciative. He commented on how soft the skin on my chest was, and that my body was beautiful, very tight he said, with strong hands and strong lower lumbar. (Typical speak considering his line of work.)

He expressed a couple times that he wanted to lay me on the bed and just have his way with me. Gentleman that he was, he respected my thanks but no thanks wishes. I'd said that I couldn't do that to myself. To me, sex is very special, even sacred, and knowing that we couldn't have a relationship, there was no reason to experience that joy only to feel the loss of it when he went back home. He understood.

The next day he came to my office to say goodbye. He gave me a gift with a card that says Thanks for a wonderful visit. It was great getting to know you. You have wings.

into the wild

It's amazing what dating a nature boy will do to a girl. I was pretty much a homebody for most of my adult years. I lived a typical domestic life for the 18 years I was married and raising my kids. But a couple years ago when I left my marriage, and Rob entered my life, I was exposed to his world. He loves the outdoors, and sports, and has been physically fit (like hot) his whole life. His body is a heavenly reflection of his need to be active. Lucky me. La de da de da.

One thing we do regularly is hike. We are surrounded by some of nature's finest work in this area, and he takes me to all the cool places--often where others won't go because it's too much work to get there. I love being in a secluded spot with him. It brings up all sorts of feelings--gratitude, contentment, sexual desire. Something about doing it with the animals, I dunno.

Last weekend we found a great spot to have sex. Big flat rocks were set perfectly so that he could sit with his back against a tree. I climbed on top facing him and lowered myself onto his, ahem. That tree was the bonus though. I was able to wrap my hands around it and use it to work myself up and down quite nicely. Things got pretty wet in the woods that day. Chipmunks skittered by. A few leaves fell on us. I love the smell of fall in the air.

Lee lingers

I'm thinking of Lee today. Tomorrow's his birthday.

Lee is a hot, successful, business associate-cum-friend* who lets me flirt endlessly with him. He's one of those guys with a flashy smile that carries himself with confidence and knows how to wear a pair of jeans and good shoes. Unfortunately Lee lives in a glittering metropolis 3000 miles from here. But he visited our company/town/(me!) a couple weeks ago and I took him on a whirlwind tour of the very unique region where I live and work. He was all mine for 2 days. Before he left I told him I would miss him. And I was right. For the record, I also miss the smell of his grey J. Crew sweater and the thrill of being seen with him.

I didn't sleep with Lee while he was here, though I easily could have. We'd spent hours in his hotel room and drank enough to lose inhibitions and underwear. But sex wasn't what I was wanted from him. Aside from the obvious excitement of spending time with a sexy guy, what I really wanted was to see who he was. I knew Lee the entrepreneur, the guru. But I wanted to see the personal side, the vulnerability, the feelings. And I wanted to see myself in him. Who did he think I was?

to be continued...

*get your mind out of the gutter...here's what it used to mean:
cum /kʌm, kʊm/ –preposition
with; combined with; along with (usually used in combination): My garage-cum-workshop is well equipped.

there's nothing wrong with vanilla

I'm not terribly ashamed to say that it was only a few weeks ago that I first heard the term vanilla sex. I stumbled on it while leafing through a magazine one afternoon at work. Deciding to poll the girls in my office, 5 of 7 who are younger than I, I discovered that my lingo was out of date. Oh well. That didn't bother me (I know where my talents lie). What I found somewhat disturbing was that they scoffed at the idea of vanilla sex, as if it was inadequate or boring.

Now, at the risk of sounding judgmental, I must pipe in and say that they haven't tried hard enough if they think that good old plain sex is boring. In my opinion, we ought to master the basics before turning to toys or games for satisfaction.

Have you ever noticed how the missionary position never goes out of style? It's because that's how humans fit best together. It feels awesome, physically and emotionally. Man on top gives him the best leverage to ram as hard and fast or as slow as you want. Being face to face, able to kiss, gaze into each other's eyes, and talk, is by far the most intimate position. And to feel his hot bare skin against yours, stomach to stomach, chest to chest, sweat to sweat.....awe...some. I love to feel the weight of my man on top of me, and submit to his wildest desires (which are also mine). It also lets you control each other's orgasm, because you have such great access to front and back at the same time. You can squeeze or prod asses, tease nipples, and kissing, did I mention that?!? Who the hell needs Rocky Road?

sacred sex

I am blessed with regular trips to heaven. It's not just that I love sex. In fact, speaking for myself here, I feel that sex without deep emotion is rather a waste of time. (Unless one feels the need to masturbate.) Having finally escaped a numb existence, aka 'a dead marriage', I returned to my former life of seeking and enjoying sex. Just out of my marriage, new 'old' love Cam said he'd always thought of me as a sex goddess. I laughed at the time, having completely forgotten who I was, but soon saw my return to that role.

Cam will be the subject of many future posts, but today I need to talk about Rob. Rob is the happy beneficiary of my renewed passion. Rob and I go places during sex that neither of us have ever been. The intensity of our emotion completely envelops us soon after our bodies touch. It's waaay bigger than both of us. I often feel the presence of God when I'm making love to my man. I know God's smiling on us because we are truly celebrating LOVE. We are celebrating God.

Last night after Rob came in me, we found ourselves face to face staring into each other's eyes and souls. I was in such a zone, as was he, and I felt we were truly one. There was nothing between us, and everything between us. It was only us, and God, of course. This is sacred sex.

I emailed Rob my thoughts today because I simply didn't want to let that moment go, and I hoped he was feeling the same. He likes to hear my thoughts. I tried to put that experience into words. And this is what he wrote back:

It's the pot of gold, the rainbow, the sound of the birds and the smell after a fresh rain all in one, plus we get to go there again.

I say it's the alpha and omega.

Birth of a Blog

Wow. It really did only take 5 minutes to give birth to my first blog. If only childbirth had been so simple. Or maybe a good thing it wasn't. Or I'd have kids coming out of my ears. Gives a whole new meaning to 'prolific writer'.

People say I'm a good writer. I think I am. I've been called "the wordsmith", "the word lady", "queen of words". I do love words. Written, spoken, sung. Words move me. And I have an affinity for writing. It sure beats speaking. Words once spoken can rarely be erased. At best they can be edited, feels more like back pedalling sometimes. Time is on my side when I write and that's why, in general, I'd rather write than speak when trying to express myself. Does anyone feel like me? Are we just scaredy cats?

I've always desired to be understood. Maybe it was an attempt at understanding myself that made me journal obsessively from age 16 to almost 40. I finally kicked the habit because I was driving myself so hard to do it that I stopped getting anything out of it. To this day, though, I find it pretty cool that every day of my life from 16 to 30-something is documented on paper. And between you and me, those were some pretty juicy years.

So I'm back to it. Can I do it without being borderline OCD? Will I get something out of it? I'd like to hear your thoughts about my thoughts. And this seems like a good place to start. Welcome to my rebirth.