hello goodbye hair

I'm getting self-conscious about my hair. In the last 3 months I've had 3 hairstyles and 3 colors. I've had a chin-length bob in my normal light brown with blonde highlights for maybe 4 years. Like many other areas of my life that are undergoing radical change, I decided my hairstyle needed to change too.

I knew I wanted to go blonde overall and get a shorter cut. The shorter cut idea came from Andy who loves the look of a certain actress from the 60s. And I was game for something different. So a couple months ago I went to my hairdresser. She cut the back a lot shorter and dyed my hair a bright blonde--almost platinum.

It was not what I expected, but I didn't dislike it. What I did notice was stronger-than-usual reactions from people. My mother hardly recognized me when she walked in my house. My sister saw me on skype, said 'wow, you're really blonde' and then asked me 'do you like it?' And the people closest to me at work didn't comment much, which I interpret to mean that they didn't like it.

Andy liked it when he saw me on skype. Not sure how fair that was though, cuz my webcam is not very good with color. Anyhow....

Next visit to my hairdresser I had her tone it down a little to a subtler blonde, but had her go super short layers all in the back and take some off the front--kind of like the style in the photo posted at the top. It does kinda look like this (but lighter) which I think is really cute!

However...I am still questioning it. I'm running into people who haven't seen me in a while. Most of them either say, 'hey, you've gone blonde', not 'wow, that looks great', or they don't comment at all.

I noticed that on my last trip to LA Andy took hardly any photos of me where he usually takes lots. And one that he did take he cropped close in on my eyes so my hair wasn't showing. That's when I got really self-conscious. But all along he's telling me how beautiful I am. I do think he would have a hard time giving me any criticism, so I can't fully trust what he says when it comes to my hair.

When Maria saw me a couple weeks ago (first time in months) she said my hair looked nice, but she thought it was too light for me and it makes me look too pale. I think maybe that's the fairest statement I've received. Everyone else seems too scared to tell me what they think.

So, the weirdest thing about all this is that I like my hair. But because I've gotten such lukewarm reactions I'm going to change it back to a dirty blonde again. And maybe grow it longer in the front again. ???

sweet past

It was a beautiful day, and because there haven't been many of those, I made a point of planning a walk after dinner. I called Rob to see if he wanted to join me.

We met on the street between our two streets. He was wearing one of those skin tight shirts that athletes wear and I swear his pecs were bigger than my boobs. Anyway, he looked really good in it. He's been working hard for it mountain biking and going to the gym. Good for him.

We had what I thought was a short walk and ended up at his house for a drink. He also wanted to show me his gardens. He'd finally done the beds with some plants and a nice dark mulch, and I almost gasped when I saw it. It looked so awesome after a couple years of nothing but weeds there.

We went inside and while he was pouring us whiskey, I strolled onto his deck. At my first glimpse of the green wonderland that is his backyard, and the huge deck (I said deck) which I helped build, and the flowering dogwood that seems to glow in the dark, I was overcome with emotion.

This place held so many memories, good ones. No, great ones! All those conversations on the worn old adirondack chairs. How many cups of tea and glasses of whiskey were drunk here? We'd even sat naked on those chairs more than a couple times and soaked up the sun.

All those bits of memory flashed before me and I knew that I would miss this place very much. A part of me already misses the sweetness of those times. I always knew I could count on a big dose of TLC when I was with Rob. He has always been comfort to me. Still is.

I realize that I have chosen other things for myself and I am still confident that I am doing what I need and want to do. But that's not to say that it doesn't come without a price. There will be days, I am sure, when I have to close my eyes and bring back those memories for whatever reason. In times when I feel lost or hurt or sick, I may turn to memories even if it's not the appropriate thing to do. It is what I do.

I have fond memories of all my times with Rob. And I want to keep them close to my heart. As if they could ever leave.

moving forward with Maria

Maria emailed me asking nicely if I wanted to get together to talk about some of our issues. Of course I jumped at the chance. I invited her to come for waffles.

She showed up at noon. I was pretty calm considering I hadn't seen her in months. Maybe I was just ready to trust that things were going to be all right. Everything else in my life seems to fall into place perfectly, so why wouldn't this?

I drank in the sight of her as she asked me questions about my trip to LA. I showed her the brochure of the apartment building where we found a place and she asked lots of questions and had only nice things to say about it. I was in heaven.

She talked about her life, the semester she just finished and how she wants to go to law school after she graduates (whoa). Maria and I sat at the dining room table for 2 hours and talked about so many things. It had been so long since we'd communicated like this...All the while I am floored by how smart, mature and beautiful my daughter is.

We got onto the subject of my moving, or "my leaving her" as she would put it. I explained how both Christie and I feel like this is such a great opportunity for us. We are bored here and looking for new things to learn and experience. It's not that we're "leaving her", we're exploring a new piece of life. Maria found it hard to see it our way, but luckily it didn't turn into a fight or an attack on me as it always had in the past. We agreed to disagree on some things.

When I asked Maria if she would come out to visit, she said she wasn't sure she could be in the same place as Andy. I asked why, and she responded that she didn't like him. I know what that means. It means that she needs a scapegoat to blame for this whole scenario. And since Andy's the one who lives in LA, it must be his fault that Christie and I are going there.

Maria is too smart not to realize the illogic in her line of thinking. But I didn't push her on it. Time heals all.

Before she left, she came over to me and gave me a hug. Despite all the words and feelings that were exchanged over the last 2 hours, it was the hug that meant the most to me. I have craved that for so long and today I got it. Thank God. I love my daughter and I feel that she will now accept my love again.

pies and such

Here is an excerpt from my email to Rob when I returned from LA:

I dreamed of you on my last night in LA. This is how it went: I came to your house with 2 guys and 3 pies. One was rhubarb, one was cherry, and I don't remember #3, but none of the pie shells was full enough. And you were wearing square glasses (?!)

What I neglected to tell him about my dream was that he looked dejected when I walked in with 2 guys (what former boyfriend wouldn't?). As I poured the filling into each pie shell I was disappointed at how little there was. My pies were not going to be full and tasty. It was all so skimpy. I felt like I had messed up.

As I reread my email just before hitting send, I realized I'd already analyzed my own dream. The pies were really men, probably the men in my major relationships. The fact that I couldn't remember #3 is not a good sign for #3, but I guess it doesn't matter now, does it? Apparently these men (or the relationships) did not measure up and left me disappointed.

And Rob's square glasses? Well, he is kind of square. Very sweet, but not very happening. That's all I can say about that.

lost & found in LA

On day 2 of my LA trip I was set into a tailspin. When checking my email after breakfast I found a very long heartfelt message from my 19 year old (estranged) daughter Maria. The message began: I am writing via email because I feel that this is the only civil manner that I can convey this message. After this, I would appreciate no further contact with you in the future, but I think that it is important for you to hear my thoughts.

My heart sank. I tried to just scan the rest of the email lightly and not get overly emotional about it, but how does a mother do that? As hard as I tried to separate myself from the feeling, it followed me everywhere for the next few days till I totally broke down and cried.

Basically Maria's message described her angst at "losing her sister" and how she feels I continue to make very selfish choices and I am to blame for all of her and her father's unhappiness, etc etc etc. She begged me not to take her sister away from her.

Since she had asked me not to have further contact with her, I did not respond. Frankly, I was too messed up to respond. But Christie started receiving texts from Maria wondering why "Mom had not responded". Obviously I needed time to digest the message, decide how I felt about everything and what my response would be. I decided I'd deal with it after my vacation.

However, it continued to affect me. As the days went by, I felt very out of sorts. Physically I was fine, but mentally and emotionally I was floundering. I was surrounded by so many unfamiliar things and felt totally out of my realm. I had lost all enthusiasm, which worried me considering I was about to reach the point of no return in moving there. We were about to sign a lease on an apartment.

It also didn't help having the 3 of us in Andy's small, and very messy, apartment for 8 days. Christie complained to me privately that the bathroom was disgusting and there's no room for her stuff etc. Her complaints combined with my anxiety left me a little panicky, thinking how do I fix this?

I got up the next morning and cleaned his bathroom for over an hour. I risked hurting Andy's feelings, but bottom line I needed my daughter to feel comfortable. I don't think he was offended. I simply explained that it wasn't quite up to women's standards.

Another thing I *learned* on this trip was that I definitely need a sense of order in my life. I found it stressful to not have space to put my things, and not know when or from where my next meal was coming, and to not have a stocked fridge or cupboards. In a way I felt like I was on Survivor.

I'm not saying that Andy's way is wrong...apparently it has worked for him somewhat for the last 15 years. BUT I now know that I need routine and a sense of control over the basic necessities of life.

In the middle of the mayhem I had lost my sense of self, and couldn't seem to define who I was anymore. Thinking back now, I remember reaching (mentally) for something that I knew would ground me. I thought of 2 things: my Conversations with God book, and my routine. And then I felt peace.

And since then, I've realized that I will be lugging along that 4-volume book to LA no matter how heavy my suitcase is. The routine I will just demand for myself. If Andy joins in, which I think he will for the most part, that will be great! He's been living like a rudderless ship because his life is so non-routine. He's an artist who works from home and paints when he feels like it. He looks for any excuse to get out of the house--that means endless trips to grocery stores or restaurants to eat. I don't have that kind of time. To me it seems very wasteful. To him it's something to do.

At first I was thinking that this has not been a fun trip. While it may not have been filled with all the fun and games of my previous trips, we did plenty of laughing and loving. Mostly I learned a lot. I think it was crucial that I experienced what I did. It will prepare me for the big move and then maybe I won't feel so out of place once I get there. I know it will be challenging enough to deal with everything being brand new. I need to stay in touch with who I am and get what I need.

I still adore Andy and we're still moving! We signed the lease, I gave my notice at work, so onward we go! :D

intensely red

The first night in LA this time, we stayed in a house where Andy was house sitting. Nice house. The bedroom we stayed in was remarkably red. Intensely red. No tomato red or pinky red, but like a bright blood red. Curtains, sheets, blankets and pillow cases.

Red is a good color for inducing passion, not that we needed any help. I think it made us bolder and a little more aggressive than we'd usually be, even though it was Day One after 4 months of sexual deprivation.

I lay on the bed, still dressed, and Andy took off his clothes as he stood beside the bed. I sat up while he kneeled on the bed. He lifted his arm and pushed my face right into his armpit. I smelled his scent and he said lick it. The fact that he did that to me really set me off. I was like a wild cat after that. Off came my clothes and Andy devoured me.

Feeling his body, smelling it, tasting it, was sensual overload. It was like a sexual playground out of control. I never know what to play with next. We were all over the place, never too long in one spot. Thank God we'll be living together soon so we can slow down and enjoy every inch and every moment to its fullest.

We kissed and sucked and fucked. He left the condoms in the car, so we rode bareback for awhile then I made him get out, hard as that was. Crazy sex. It was just...so...nice.

holy shit!

After an unusually long hiatus (it felt long for me) I thought I'd take a stab at blogging again. HELLO!

What's new? Let's see...I saw a real live rat walking across my deck the other day. That was a holy shit moment. I have never before seen a rat in my (upscale) town. Must be the excessive rain that has driven it out into the open. A big ewwwww!

Chistie has a boyfriend and he's cute. I was telling Andy about the night he first came over and I got to meet him. I mentioned that he was almost as cute as Christie's last boyfriend and Andy gave him the name Scotty Too Hottie. Three weeks later he still refers to the kid by that name. Did I mention that Andy's very funny?

I bleached my hair. It's a bit too Hollywood blonde for me. I get compliments, mostly from guys, and I've noticed some odd changes in people's behavior towards me. They now ask me for money or ask me strange questions (such as what's that hanging from your rearview mirror? can i see it? where did you get it?).

Maybe that 'dumb blonde' perception is really true. People think I'm more gullible all of a sudden. This has been an interesting experiment, but I think I won't be so blonde after my next hair appt. Not so much for the reasons above, but because that shit is horrible on my scalp and has left me itchy all the way down to the middle of my body. Very weird. And kind of scary to accept that I've subjected myself to some chemical reaction. Ewwwww!

This next item is pretty embarrassing to confess, you see only my doctor and you will know. I didn't tell ANYONE else. You see, since I am soon leaving the country of glorious free health care, I have decided to make sure I am in good health before I go.

Part of this task for people *my age* involves checking for cancer in certain dark places. Luckily one can conduct these tests in the privacy of their own homes (bathrooms to be more specific), and very conveniently just hand the nurse/receptionist the neat little SEALED ENVELOPE with the hazardous bodily material contained within.

So really all I wanted to say about that procedure is that it is friggin WEIRD to collect your poo in a container and proceed to dab what looks like a stir stick for your coffee into it and then spread it on a blotter at a time of the morning when you'll soon be spreading your jam onto your toast. That was the biggest ewwwww of all.

Butt...pun intended...it was all worth it. Doctor says all is well in that department. Thankfully no more poo collecting for awhile.

meltdown ahead

I'm having a hard time writing these days. I'm out of Dinamode, and right into planning mode, just running a marathon towards the big move to LA. Basically, I'm driving myself really hard all day and there's not an ounce of energy or creativity left by night.

I can handle this for awhile longer, then I shall collapse into my lover's arms and take a good long break. At least that's the intent. Good planning always pays off, so I'm sure this will be worth the effort.

So, I'm afraid I'll be way too boring and that's why I haven't been writing much. I depend on my emotions to fuel the blog. And I really haven't been allowing my emotions to come through. I feel I can't afford to right now. Once I'm done packing and such, I may allow myself a minor meltdown. For now I have to indulge the workaholic in me.

May is here again

Ahhh, May, my favorite month. I've said it before and I'll say it again. It's the beginning of everything good. I have a history of momentous events in May. I wonder what this one will bring? It's like a present waiting to be opened...

In a couple weeks Christie and I will be flying to Los Angeles. This will be our final visit, because next time we go, we are staying! The mission for this visit is to find the perfect apartment to share with Andy and Christie. Plus, Christie needs to see her new high school. Fingers crossed that she likes it.

I hope I get all my major plans in place and checked off my list this month. I've been teetering on the edge of overwhelmed lately. I have so many things swimming around in my head. I am afraid I am going to forget to do something.

May will be the month when I hand in my resignation to the boss I've called a witch more than once, and to a company that has underpaid me for more than 6 years. Time to move on and I couldn't be happier.

Maybe, just maybe, warm weather will come, and stay! I feel like I need 3 months of sweltering heat to melt the chill inside of me. I can't remember a winter as harsh or a spring as cold and wet as we've just had. Soon I will be complaining of the heat. You watch.