I’ve ventured back onto the online dating sites for a different reason this time, I’m scanning profiles for story ideas to help add to Datewrecks BIG collection. I made a visit to Plenty of Fish this morning, looking for losers.
It’s a free site, to read profiles you only need to register and make a profile of your own. I discovered it’s more fun to be incognito; I didn’t include a photo, I did come up with a slutty name. And the part where I had to write about myself, I just wrote:
“I am a human who likes to do things that humans like to do. Breathe air, live life, lay down, stand up, walk around. Sometimes I sleep, other times I bathe. I drive, walk, run and skip. Sometimes I whistle.”
Within ten minutes some guy “Favorited” me. I have the right genitalia and that’s all that matters it seems. And guess whose face appeared on the screen — the cheater pants I last dated, that’s who!
I’m charmed with a cool chick on Twitter @DateWrecks who writes a blog called Date Wrecks. Her true to form expressions are so like mine: “This can’t be GOOD for the children.”
From an online dating profile: His caption read “I carry a big gun, if you know what I mean.” Nudge. Nudge. Wink. Wink. Yes, we know what you mean. But couldn’t you have found a better picture to go along with your overcompensation? What are the gloves for? What kind of dumb bitch is going to meet this guy off Yahoo Personals when he’s, not only talking about his cock size, but posting pictures of weapons… And gloves… ??? Maybe I should email him and link him to Craigslist … It seems like that might be more his style.
Date Wrecks stories are frightfully real … I’m glad I’m not the only one who has legitimate stories. Go read her stuff … it’s third-world natured, filled with HUMOR!!!
“She likes herself, yet hates others, for that which in herself she prizes; and while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises.”
-William Congreve
I adore this quote, it’s got mind blow qualities that inspire me. If you’ve ever been confused by people who are mean and hateful these words may lead to some freedom for you. Had I fully understood the meaning of these words much earlier than I did, the first half of my life may have unfolded entirely different.
I may not have thought twice about the things people said and did. I may not have asked “Why?” a hundred times and spent my precious energy looking for clues or insight to change something I couldn’t. I may not have cried so much or carried a bruised heart. I may have exited their atmosphere sooner than I did.
I went to pick up some bagel breakfast sandwiches the other morning. No one else in line, placed my order, went to scan the bottles of juice and grabbed a few. I looked up to find the lady working there, behind the counter, gazing at me. And I usually greet others with a, “How is it going today?”
And she said that this week was going much better than last week and paused. It was such a sincere response with her gazing into my eyes, and I watched her eyes move to her apron, her hands brushing invisible crumbs, as she said that last week she had a baby. And she looked in my eyes and then to the register and shared that her baby had died. I watched her move to the register and followed her lead.
My breakfasts sandwiches were delivered to her hands and I set my juice on the counter, and she shared the details of a miscarriage that had her hospitalized, the intimate details of her heart were exposed when she shared that the baby was given to the hospital, it was the only choice she had.
She didn’t have to tell me that she didn’t have money for a proper burial or that she was concerned with her medical expenses. She didn’t need to express her feelings of deep despair in this two minute window of time. I felt it all and I cared. We connected on a heart level without many words.
Moments like these, when strangers pour their heart out have happened more and more the older I get. Sometimes I get the feeling that I experienced things in life just so that I could respond intelligently in moments like these.
To lighten her sadness and grief in facing this reality in her life I only said this: “Some things are not in our hands, it’s futile to think that they are.” And I truly hope I chose the right words.
I couldn’t help but pull this video out of the archives. Bailey and Mia with their friend Maggie (and Maggie’s dad) preparing for the Independence Day Parade in Morse two years ago.
The little town of Morse celebrates Independence Day on the 3rd of July with a parade, good food and an amazing fireworks display. A few thousand people come from all around for fun on this night — fun that lasts until the wee morning hours for a few hundred or so. The year we lived there, we had friends join us in our yard for an evening of fun. Here’s Mia with her friend Logan, patiently waiting for the fireworks to begin.
And after the fireworks were over we all went inside except for my son Joe who cleaned up around the campfire. When Joe came to the house with his hands full of stuff, he looked a little startled and said he thought there was a cow in the front yard … near the bottom of the hill in the dark. We grabbed a flashlight and followed Joe, and soon came to find out there was a couple ‘doing it’ in our front yard. The guy said, “Hey, do you mind,” as we held the flashlight on them. My friend Bill said, “No, we don’t mind,” and his wife exclaimed, “We thought you were a cow!” And my son Joe said, “Gross, they’re doing it,” and ran off.
My daughters had a mini vacation with their dad and I had four nights of freedom on my own.
Bailey and Mia knew when they left Friday night that they were going to the Minneapolis Zoo. Within the first twelve hours of leaving, I received a dozen text messages; one with a picture of a chicken that was as big as a six story building. They’d stopped for a sleep over in Albert Lea, MN Friday night with their dad.
Knowing where my children are is a very calming thing. Dare I say it liberates my mind. Even better when they happily share moment to moment texts of excitement and joy. And Friday, it was these things that added to a really good night of sleep for me. That was the night I had a dream of my twin self telling me that I needed some rest to find calm.
Saturday morning I spoke to Bailey and her dad on the phone and found out they were headed towards the Mississippi River and would be enjoying a more scenic route; one I was familiar with. They were headed to La Crosse, WI, where we lived twelve years ago after my ex completed medical school and entered residency there. Bailey was one month old when we moved there and two years old when we left La Crosse. She was eager about the whole idea of revisiting ‘roots,’ — and on the phone with her dad, he mentioned places that they’d be visiting that held meaning for him. I smiled with this news, I knew they’d be having a fabulous time that day.
“While you are proclaiming peace with your lips, be careful to have it even more fully in your heart.”
— Francis of Assisi
Unrest is not as tasty as the Uncola. No, there is nothing effervescent about it. Unrest doesn’t quench me like the Uncola mind when it’s peaceful and clear.
Symbols are BIG in my life, they hold meaning and give me strength. I came across this photo over the weekend of peace flags on the deck of the apartment my daughters and I moved to after exiting my last marriage and filing for divorce. It was this time in my life that I learned how to deal with Unrest and become the Uncola. My practice involved symbols that aligned with my intentions, it allowed my mind to focus daily on calm during a time of Unrest four years ago.
Fast forward to more current news, the events that happened in my world a few weeks ago, when I discovered my camera had been stolen from my apartment and when I found out that my Volvo station wagon needed a pricey repair. These things caused worry in me — concerns that planted seeds of fear in my mind. I didn’t feel safe in my apartment, I didn’t feel safe driving my car. Three people have a key and my camera just came up missing one day. Still, I don’t know the absolute truth of what happened but I do know that me, not feeling safe where I live can undermine me. Read the rest of this entry »
I answer my emails, even the weird stuff from readers who have mistaken me for Martha Stewart and want my opinion on their choice of duvet covers. I always answer online dating emails too, including the one I received a few days ago that was written by a highly talented seducer in Pittsburgh. Initially, I found it provocative and inspiring, putting words together that make men explode — that was really fun for a few days. He stopped writing after I said “No” to mailing him my underwear.
My favorite emails come from friends, some I haven’t met yet. Emails that contain dialogue that whispers to me there are unexpressed thoughts they hold deep in their hearts — hints of rapid growth and radical change. Emails that grow into sharing stories, bridging gaps between transformation and the lessons from our past. The dialogue that illuminates hope and wisdom at a cross roads. The paradigm shifts before our eyes … the moments we observe in our personal and professional lives, the things that are meant to be shared and open to dialogue.
And this morning when I remembered that my body is a temple, and the earth is a temple … I remembered that we all exist in a temple. And now I’m going off to read Hafiz through the weekend. Taking a break from the emails, from readers who need their own blog.
“The purpose of learning is growth, and our minds, unlike our bodies, can continue growing as we continue to live.” - Mortimer Adler
My friend Little Ed answers the phone and says, “Father Ed speaking.” He knows it’s me and I always respond with a “Hello Darling.” He can sense a sigh in my voice, he can tell if an idea has my neurons on fire, and he can easily clue in on a tone that says something more serious is going on. Six years ago, he’s stayed on the phone while I was throwing up for an hour. And I only mention this to let you know this man can handle radical stuff really well.
I can talk about anything with this eighty year old man, he’s courageous that way, he’s one of a few men that I turn to when I want to know more about the male point of view. He’s willing to spar with thoughts for hours. I adore his views, he says what he thinks. In fourteen years I’ve only hung up on him twice. He’s the reason why I believe men really do have the capacity for honesty in communication.
I have a whisker that grows out of my chin. This solo strand has been with me for years and my kids tell me when it’s grown too long. It’s one of those things that only those who really know me can see, otherwise it goes unnoticed. A few weeks ago when I experienced back pain, my eight year old daughter Mia asked me if I felt like crying, she read pain on my face. To strangers in public I may have appeared severely constipated. To friends who barely know me, they may have wondered why I didn’t sit still through a movie. Had I experienced this same back pain in my last marriage, with my ex-husband, I more than likely would have appeared angry or upset, and I may have been subject to incessant complaints about laundry not being done and the bare fridge.
If you relate to the last part of all that, I wrote this post for you. To help you trust those intuitive hits you’re in an unhealthy marriage.
“We fail to realize that mastery is not about perfection. It's about a process, a journey. The master is the one who stays on the path day after day, year after year. The master is the one who is willing to try, and fail, and try again, for as long as he or she lives." ~ George Leonard
Posted by Dawn 
Posted by Dawn 
Posted by Dawn 
