What I See in the Mirror

I sit here and stair blankly at my iPad, my Galaxy Note S II, my laptop, my TV, whatever is in my view.  My thoughts have taken me prisoner.  Even now, I stare at my blogger page without certainty of what will develop.  What haven't I already said?  What haven't I already dramatized? What haven't I already felt, thought, said, wrote, believed, expressed, forced, or grasped for?  I've been on this track.  I've told this story.  So, why am I STILL here?? 

I look at my reflection in the mirror and see how the sorrow and humiliation and embarrassment have aged me.  I look terrible.  I force a smile.  I tell myself that I love that beautiful, tired, spent woman I see.  I do love that broken, beaten down, and completely lost woman I see.  I do.  I feel compassion more than you know for what she's been through.  But I don't know how to reach her.  I wish to scream out to her to just MOVE!  Yet, I know already she would not hear.

My eyes used to be blue and sparkle with mischief.  My face once had vibrancy and life.  I've grown thin and am now the shadow of who I once was.  How I became so lost in my mind I can't determine.  How I allowed this depression to squeeze the life out of my eyes I can't explain.  I am not this weak.  I don't let these things happen to me.  This isn't how things are done.  Yet, the reality that I am this weak, and that I did let these things happen to me, and that this is how I'm doing things embarrasses me.  I don't want to be this way.  I don't want to be so weak that my body reflects my despair. My eyes are black and my face is drawn and tragic.

I am left ashamed for letting self-pity swallow me whole.  I am embarrassed that I don't know what to do or how to do it.  I see what you see.  I am not blind nor am I in denial.  What do you see when you look in the mirror?   

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World's shortest blog

"As I struggle through this thing they call the holidays, I see you are struggling, too.  If my hurt is like your own, I love you for that, and that alone." - In My Looking Glass

Though I'm having difficulty focusing my emotions and thoughts to write to you, today, I will do my best to cut the crap and get to it.

 This Christmas sucks ass. 

The end.

5 Reasons I'll Fail At Dating

Let me be brutally honest, unapologetically superficial, and unrealistically idealistic. In other words, let me blog!

After being asked several times what it is I'm looking for in a man, I decided I should probably figure that out. What a novel idea to make this venture in dating about what I want!

(Thanks for the nudge, guys from dating site who have asked. Let me spend an entire day obsessing over it, writing and rewriting until my hand seizes up and falls off. I'll get back to you.)

Disclaimer: Dating site Laurie is delicate with her approach to honesty. Blog Laurie is a cunt.

1. In the beginning... you must be hot

If you are an attractive-to-me Caucasian American over the age of 30 who is taller than 5'9" and live in ND, congratulations! You are granted chat status. If you are remotely interesting and elude to a date being in my near future, I may even accept your offer to text your phone. This chat status is only good for 48 hours after which you will be kicked to the curb if you haven't asked me out.

2. Jumping hurdles - drinks anyone?

If you are willing to meet at a bar-and-grill type venue for a couple drinks and nothing more, you've passed hurdle one. If you've made me laugh and have understood my jokes, you're even closer. If you've made zero refrences to fucking me or exchanging naked pictures, you've crossed the finish line to drinks with me.

3. The elimination round - do not pass go.  Do not collect $200

No gamers, sports freaks, avid hunters/fishermen, bikers, men who want children, men without children, conservative Republicans, religious zealots, atheists, addicts (recovering or otherwise), porn lovers, men who listen to talk radio on the AM dial (see conservative Republican), sexist racists (see conservative Republican), or men who want to get married.

4. The bonus round - moving beyond drinks

If you've survived my already ridiculous list of requirements and eliminators, you can now play the bonus round. If you smoke weed but are not a pothead, if you meditate, or if you use one of my own wise-cracks against me, you've solidified date two. If you do all three of those things, you'll likely get laid on date one. If you do none of those things, take me home James. Goodnight! Better luck next time.

5. Let's talk business - future projections

Shit's about to get deep, so put on your waders. (If you actually own waders, see #3.) This is the true blue, unrealistic, comprehensive list of what I'm looking for in a man beyond numbers 1-4. And I mean a real man, a man worthy of my loyalty and dedication, a man worthy of my children, a man worth sharing the rest and best years of my life.

Rocks my world sexually - I have unforgiving expectations in this area and honestly believe this will never happen. If I find a man who can do this, then I can look further.

Has a close relationship with his family and children - note: must have children.

Is financially stable and established within the community.

Is open and honest without prompting or prying.

Interacts easily with strangers.

Anticipates the needs of others and acts on them.

Takes pride in his role as the man of the house and motivated by that pride to perform "man duties."

Offers compliments to strangers as well as love ones.

Is a sharp dresser who wears Cologne.

Shows obvious pride that my kids and I are his.

Is sincerely interested in my children's lives.

Is my strongest ally and constant defender.

Perhaps there is no man who fits into my mold of perfection. Perhaps I will live out my days as a single woman. Perhaps I am too picky. But I'm hoping that the one requirement I don't have, the obvious and expected need I readily sacrifice, will allow just enough space for a man to survive my list and be my life companion. That one thing you didn't even notice I didn't require? Love.

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Q & A: Is It You? Or Is It Me?

Did you determine that I've proven myself to be unraveling before the eyes of the world?

Did you decide my honesty reveals my mental instability?

Do you choose silence as your response to my life because you're afraid I might contaminate you?

Are my confessions upsetting only because I have made them public? Or, are they upsetting because they're real?

Have you even talked to me about my blog and how it makes you feel? Or is that discussion reserved for anyone but me?

Did you miss the part where I chose to trust in you as my friend?

Did you become confused and decide these blogs weren't meant for you directly?

Or am I the one determining, deciding, choosing, fearing contaminants, avoiding, and confusing things?

Maybe I am unraveling. But you are watching it with judgment. I know who I'd rather be.

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"The Last Lie" followed by "The Last Supper"

"If you fly your own prostitute from London to Cancun, you can avoid being stuck with the above...if that's your thing...your girlfriend will never know!" ~ sarcastic, bitter hag

I couldn't believe it when you lied to me, again.  I stood there, stunned, frozen in time.  How easily and nonchalantly you lied. How insignificantly the act of deceit rolled out into words. My heart sank, than raged with anger! And, then, something surreal, unexpected, and soul-altering passed over me, into me, and through me. It was a bottom dropping out.  It was a water balloon popping. It was too much air being released. It was a tea pot letting loose its whistle as the pressure from the steam shoots out. I lost what I had been struggling to hold. My grip was forced open and these things were ripped away - forever gone. Never mine. Taken back.

It was but a second in physical time. I blinked, perhaps. Then I smiled, and carried on preparing a meal for us. I cooked, we ate, and I allowed you to sit there thinking you had successfully deceived me, yet again.  I let you feel safe and secure with your idea of my ignorance. I watched you eat, and I listened to you talk to me and carry on as though all was right with the universe. I couldn't believe it.  I just couldn't believe it.  How audacious you were. How ridiculous you began to look.  I sat there, watching this all, bouncing from the moment with you as you ate my meal to times past. My mind computed an immediate find and replace all. Find the you I wanted to see and replace all with the you that was before me, oblivious and calm.  

It changed everything. Memories of why I had felt as I had started to slip away like a dream you slowly lose upon waking. Today, reflecting upon all of this, I look back at myself, my actions, my desperate hopes, and I cannot find the motivation for any of it, anymore.  Was I in a trance? Had I hypnotized myself into a life I now don't understand even existed? How had I allowed myself to be so used, so taken advantage of, so foolish, so unbelievably different than I became in that second you lied without a bit of hesitation? The old memories were plucked out to be replaced with reality. I once was blind, but now I see. Is this the amazing grace of hymns?  

When the meal was finished, I gathered my boots, my coat, my dignity, my self-respect, my self-esteem, my purse, and my future. I wondered what you might be thinking as you watched me bundle up to leave without so much as a word or reason.  I wondered if you even felt the least amount of guilt or regret.  Did it even dawn on you that I set you up to lie? Did you understand you failed the final exam? But the new me snuffed the wonder out before the wick took hold of the flame. I didn't care. And, that, too, I couldn't believe. And, with my new sense of self and my new understanding of just who you really were, I said, "I'm leaving," and there I went.

I have been relieved from duty, released from prison, rewarded for good behavior, permitted to wake up. Time to wake up. Time to move on. I surrendered myself to the universe, and they gave me back only love. Goodbye...to what?  I've forgotten, somehow.

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Here's a Number of These Things

1. Deciding on a new career at 39 after 3 years of being out of my field (fancy for "stay-at-home-mom") sucks.

2. Being a single mom, on the other hand, is awesome! I don't care what anyone says. I'm 100% THEE parent, and as an admitted control freak, that's happiness.

3. Dating is not what they make it look like on TV (what is?). I've done very little, but have been rethinking that. I was talking with my 9 year old daughter about it last night, and she said, "Maybe God doesn't want you to date anyone." Rethinking complete.

4. Why the hell am I up and blogging at 4:30am?! As ex husband two always said (he was a doll - which is why you haven't heard about him), me and my big brain.

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A Little Something About Souls

When humanity is stripped away, when human motives are removed and all that's left is the love of a soul...I mean pure love, the light of the universe love...the soul receiving that love and light can be seen clearly by God.

I thought I lost, but it was never meant to be about me. Love won. I have forgotten the "why" of it all. Why? I can't seem to find the answer any more. Love won and the fight is over. My time to be involved ended I guess. I can't explain myself but I had to try so I could sleep.

I just have a sense of completion and success I can't describe. It's stronger than my hurt and it's like I just woke up from a dream. Time to get up. Time to move on. I wonder if any of it was real. I don't care how ill received this may be. You're the only soul I have who knows enough. How many people do you think can see past a human and see only their soul? I wonder that.