A surprising, or not so surprising, by-product of attending writers conferences, is the books you end up buying that you weren’t planning on. I came home with four more (not counting the review copy of Tasting Rain that was waiting in the mail box upon my return) books than I left with.
I justified them all.
Duh. Continue reading
I have failed.
I did not complete this book.
Finishing books I’ve started has always been an unwritten law for me. If I start one, I have to finish it.
It’s only been recent (in the last five years or so) that I’ve allowed myself to not finish a book. I had conceded that my time was precious and that if I was not riveted to what I was reading … it was OK to stop.
So, I didn’t complete “Desperately Seeking Paradise.” I purchased it at that great Mecca of booksellers: Powell’s City of Books with the understanding that it was a memoir. What originally sold me on it was the quote on the back by James Buchan of the Guardian. He said, “Desperately Seeking Paradise draws on an old Muslim literary tradition in which a man sets out from home and friends, ostensibly to make his pilgrimage to Mecca, but really to indulge his spiritual restlessness … add some British-Indian blokery and some slapstick, and you will have some idea of the scope and charm of Desperately Seeking Paradise. Interspersed through these adventures are meditations on episodes in Islamic history and other political and religious movements.”
A memoir, right? Continue reading
I recently met up with my other 37 year old girlfriends going through divorce (it’s so wild that there are so many of us!) and we started talking about online dating. Two of us had met our ex-husbands and/or current boyfriends online, and two of us met them through regular social means. And two of us are currently on an online dating site right now.
It seemed that online dating (the merits and demerits of it) would be a good topic to write about here, because it is something that a lot of women have had, or will have, some experience with. Also — and especially because — if you are a single mom, the chances of you going through the online dating experience probably quadruple, or something. I mean, if you are a single parent of small children …. are you going to go to a bar to pick up guys? Well. Maybe you are, but that’s besides the point. The point is, online dating is becoming more and more prevalent and less and less taboo. Continue reading
I have a Nook.
I got it in the divorce.
I’ve only used it once though, and I didn’t buy it for myself. (I didn’t inhale disclaimer.)
My ex bought it for himself, and then bought the iPad he really wanted but couldn’t rationalize the cost. (snort)
So I snagged the Nook. You know, just in case.
I’ve never wanted an ebook reader. I don’t need one. To mirror Emma Thompson in “Stranger Than Fiction,” “I don’t need [an ebook reader], Penny. I [read books.]” (Only she was talking about the nicotine patch and smoking cigarettes.) Continue reading
So.
Writing about your divorce is tricky. There’s always the censor dude in your mind with a taser gun threatening to zap you if you: get too snarky, get too whiny, get too personal, say something that your ex would be embarrassed about, say something that your ex would be hurt by, say something that would alienate your friends — your mutual ones anyway, or say anything that makes you look bad. Continue reading
Divorces are for trying new things, like wearing fishnet stockings and dying your hair pink or blue.
It’s for starting new relationships and stopping them because you realized that you really wanted to commit to the man already giving you so much peace and love and worship right now that you swim in the knowledge that this might be the One.
Divorces are for figuring out what’s best for the children, but maintaining your own sanity by “putting your own oxygen mask on first”.
In other (totally unrelated) news, I’ve been mulling around a few new writing projects that I’m starting to get excited about.
More on that later.
Though I will say that both of them are blogs. One will be a joint blogging effort on long-distance relationships, and one will be geared toward single women issues.
Turns out I have a lot to say about that.
Now I just need a catchy byline …..
I dream about writing.
When I’m sleeping.
When I wake, in that dreamy half-sleep,
I think of the things I’m going to write about — the things I have to say, to the world, to my self, to my friends.
To my not friends.
To the friends I haven’t met yet.
I don’t think I have any enemies, but if I do, then to them, too.
But when I fully awake and settle into the computer … or my journal … other “things” get in the way. Other emotions that block my writing behind a barrier of ‘what ifs’ and the bricks of ‘you’re not good enoughs.’
I haven’t been blogging for ages. There are so many thoughts and worries and …. chores. Everything is new and different and still changing.
Mostly I haven’t been writing here, because I’ve got the damn thing syndicated to my Facebook page and I know that anything I write here will be seen by all my friends. I know that’s sorta the point, which is why I haven’t turned off the syndication. Readers for your blog is a good thing. But.
I’m afraid. Of what I’m not entirely sure. Of “friends” scoffing at my bad/lonely/worried/nostalgic days, saying, “It’s *your* fault if you are. What did you expect to happen? You shouldn’t have left him, Bitch.” But it’s my loss for not writing. No one else’s. Writing is how I process. Writing is how I breathe. Writing is how I show up in the world. And if I don’t write, then I’m not really there. So there. I’ve just convinced myself. I’m breaking through the barrier. I will now write about what’s happening and what’s going on for me. If people in my community don’t like what they see on this blog, then I invite them not to read it. You can always unfriend me on Facebook.
And maybe perhaps, just maybe, I’ll be helping someone else along the way. Or at least entertain them in some strange/sick/lovely way.
So, yes. Paul and I are getting divorced — and trying valiantly to not allow it to become messy or drawn out. Whether we succeed is still, as of yet, to be determined.
Also, I’m feeling nostalgic for Costa Rica. I miss planning for it and emailing the neighbors and talking about whether we want a driveway or not, or where to put the laundry room in the Costa Rica house. I just went through this blog and looked at a lot of the previous Costa Rica posts and remembered again that I’m not going to get to go there now.
And that was my choice. No one else made it for me. I totally acknowledge that. But it still stinks.
My son is murmuring in his sleep right now. I just bought him a loft bed because his sister wouldn’t let him do “sleep-overs” on her new bunk beds and I felt bad for him. So we had a used (craigslist) loft bed delivered tonight and this is his first time in it. He was pretty stoked.
In other news, I talked to my boss and asked her for a weekend day off (for a second time), and she agreed this time! So I am so happy to say that I now get a whole weekend day with the kids! We can go to the Saturday market, we can play frisbee in the park, we can go to a matinee at the $1 theater ….. so many ideas. Also, with summer coming up, it really opens up the recreational things I can do without any grief or guilt about work. Like: Faerieworlds, camping trips, The Country Fair, etc. I’m quite happy about it. 
There.
That’s got me started a bit.
I’m counting on next time I blog, it won’t be two months from now.
Writer’s block, be gone!
