My Second Act
Welcome to my blog! Definitely better than my first Act!! You'll find my plot points, some some good lines, and so-so acting in this Second Act! Hopefully it's worth the admission ticket!! Thanks for stopping by!
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Musings on my Second Act
Posted:Oct 11, 2020 2:32 pm
Last Updated:Oct 25, 2021 6:56 am
"Life is both fucked and fuckable."

He laughed when I wrote that.

My take o.n the iconic Dickens opening line of “A Tale of Two Cities”, updated into the modern vernacular because it is a more perfect summation of my life these last few months. I mean, 2020 has crept up on al.l of us unawares, but it creeped
up &then sucker-punched me right in the gut.

For once, I’ve got a secret and it’s my secret keep or tell. I’ve kept others’ secrets, often for years, but this one? This one is mine t.o do with as I will.
So, I have t.o write about it, talk about it, blog it, vlog it, even wrote a song about it.

yeah, and b.a.d. poetry, I’ve written some really bad, drunk poetry.

This is my journey now; this road I’m meandering down.
I’m inviting you come along for the ride. I’ll try stay the course between those painted white lines on the highway; between fucked and fuckable, and hopefully discover what the new normal looks like for m.e.
20 Comments , 1 Pending
This New Thing
Posted:Dec 6, 2021 9:21 am
Last Updated:Dec 6, 2021 9:29 am

I have been looking at the new beta Community for blogs this morning to see what everyone is talking about.

I am not sure how they can see addresses and such, as some have mentioned.
The layout seems a bit cartoon-y in my opinion.

They still have the programming glitches in punctuation and symbols, etc.

Definitely photo-rich as far as content goes. [C'est le vie! As the world goes, so do we?] I prefer words to pictures, myself.

As another blogger pointed out, we of the Boomer Generation have a much harder time accepting change than others.

And now it is about LEVELS instead of points?? I feel like I am in a Martial Arts training.

"Ah, lil Grasshopper, if you can steal the yoni egg from my hand you will have arrived!"
"Too slow!!! "€œ

My only concerns are the cries of a lack of privacy. How is that an issue, exactly? Can others see the private comments that get sent in the private mailboxes now? Some have said that addresses get shown?? Seriously?

And for those of you considering leaving, where would you end up? I am only on this site, I do not know what other sites to consider if I left and I always like to have options

Please let me know your thoughts below.
Educate me on the privacy issues, etc.

1 comment , 1 Pending
Jack and I Broke Up - PART TWO
Posted:Nov 24, 2021 8:07 am
Last Updated:Dec 1, 2021 8:12 am

The differences between us continued as we talked: She homeschooled her five . I had one . Just one, with whom I entertained the idea of homeschooling for about a hot minute; that is until I had to get him to do his homework packets in kindergarten. [which, btw, I thought was the most ridiculous idea for educating on the planet! Homework??? For kindergarteners???] What was supposed to take "only 20 minutes of schoolwork at home" took two hours  of daily screaming fits and tantrums..[and don't get me started on how my reacted!! lol]

I also learned that she loves quilting, whereas I hate sewing. She loves Trump and I lean to the left of the middle politically speaking and cannot stand him. [and that is the extent of pontificating my politics on this blog]. 

I mainly listened as she and the hubs talked. She has a quiet voice that made me have to lean in to hear her. I was reading lips most of the time. I was seated in the middle of them both, which probably made it hard for the hubs to hear her as well. At one point I excused myself to the bathroom. When I came out, I stood hidden, watching them talk and laugh like the old friends they were. I figured I would let them have their time to talk and catch up as I had time with Jack and met others instead. One young gal I started talking to was completely open about her polyamorous bicurious leanings and shared how she came into the lifestyle and to our table** [**which, she told me was known as "the Swingers table"]. She and I are now friends on FB, somehow...

I also shamelessly flirted with the karaoke DJ; a younger man that looked like a Hollywood centerfold. Yes, Jack has always helped me come out of my shell!  

I came back to the table with The Playmate telling a story about one of The Hostess' parties. She threw her head back, laughed, patted my hubs' arm and said, "You know me, I'm the Energizer Bunny!" 

Now, that's an innocuous comment, really. But for some reason [JACK] it hit me the wrong way. [JACK] When I look back on it, I think it was intermixed in my mind with previous comments and conversations that the hubs and I have had that made my temperature rise...Oh and [JACK!]

Comments and conversations like when I first found out about the GF and as we were driving to dinner one night. I asked him what attracted him to her.
 "Welllll," he said slowly, "She fucks like a racehorse! She can go all night!" 
That statement  has been stuck in my craw ever since he first uttered it over a year ago. 

And as we were headed down to this event he told me he's going to the eastern side of the state to visit his lady friend there; AND he's been talking to another friend that wants him to come visit in the MIdwest!

When I pointed out the fact that he's gone on several outings this year with other people, while I've been "keeping the home fires burning", he would bring up all the "lunch dates" that I've had. To me, that's apples to oranges: out of town trips, overnight stays, mini vacays are completely different than a lunch or hot tub outing. On the one hand, he's making memories with someone else. Me? I'm just getting fucked! 

We were the first to leave the bar. He was still not feeling well, and I was feeling no pain. I held up the wall of the bar as we walked to the car. I don't remember much else really. He must've said something to ignite the fuse. [JACK] I went off like a firecracker...a bad firecracker. I exploded in the car the second the doors were shut! All I remember was the raw emotion. And that I pounded on the door window for emphasis with each Fuck You I uttered. [JACK] I think I remember saying something about being in limbo all the time; that I was sick, so sick and tired of not knowing what the fuck was going on inside his head.

I screamed and yelled all the way back to the motel. 

He said nothing. Just watched me go off. He readied himself for bed calmly saying that we would talk about this in the morning. 

I was insistent we talk about it right there and then. Finally he yelled back. [Is that what I really wanted??! Any kind of fucking reaction??] He said " ENOUGH! We'll talk about it tomorrow because I'm sick and you're drunk and you have been yelling at me the whole time in the car!!!" 

All I could do was say, "No I havent!" [JACK!!]  At that point the lights went out in the room and I sat there in the dark, wide awake [JACK], Not feeling done yet, so,...I went to the bar at the motel. Not a lot of people there. I sat in a quiet corner with Jack one last time, while the music played and wrote in my journal. 

The next morning I woke up after only about four hours of sleep. My false eyelashes were crinkled up, moving perpendicular to my eyes. My head felt like it was detached from my body. I didn't know what to say to the man beside me. I asked him how he was feeling. He turned the question back on to me. He started packing to leave. I thought we were going to meet The Playmate. "I don't want  to ", he said. "We saw her last night, so we don't need to see her this morning." We got ready to go in silence. 

There I was back in limbo, with my mind starting to spin its tales again. This time, after I put such a lovely ending on a lovely trip, my thoughts were a bit more anxious than usual. I wondered if we would talk about what happened on the way home. But, no. Not even a little bit. The conversation was sparse and casual, with him napping as I drove part of the way home.

I get it. He doesn't like conversations that lead to possible conflicts. Never has.
The next few days I looked at what happened. It wasn't just Jack who caused the outburst. He certainly didn't help, however! And it wasn't jealousy at my-very-exact-opposite, The Playmate. It was anger; and grief. I was/am still grieving the loss of what our relationship is "supposed" to be; not what it is. I told my two besties about it over the next week. One says I should write a sit-com about my life. The other said, "Of course you're still angry. He hurt you. And he's never once apologized for it." 
It's true.
I found myself looking at couples' profiles on this site: every last one of them begins with "happliy married and secure"...
Ours would read: "satisfactorily married and somewhat secure...for now"
I wonder how many are really, really happy...and secure?
And how did they get to that point?
Were there bumps and potholes along the way?
How did they avoid them???
I wondered who started them on this journey?
Themselves or their spouse? Was it mutual??

It's okay, the veneer is back up now; just has a few cracks in it. 
We interrupt our normal programming for this special announcement!
Posted:Nov 24, 2021 7:43 am
Last Updated:Nov 27, 2021 10:04 am

Wow! I just had my first experience of blocking someone on here today!  I am usually able to shrug off comments, harsh innuendos etc. I just ignore them. But this guy really pissed me off!! 

Guys I don't get it.
What makes you think that insulting a woman calling her a 'pussy' and a 'fake' out of nowhere is going to make her open up to you?? Geezus didn't your mama ever teach you anything?? That you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?? Or is that just your 'Dom side' coming out? [Well put it back, it's totally unappealing!]

After messaging me that insulting sh*t,  I found him on IM this morning, saying "hi sexy".


Here's my pubic service message:
Be kind with your words; you'll get kind in return.
Learn to message in complete sentences. Gals appreciate it.
Don't lead with your horniness; try a different tact.

Jack and I Broke Up - PART ONE
Posted:Nov 23, 2021 9:44 am
Last Updated:Dec 4, 2021 9:46 am

Daniels, that is

He is just no good for . Brings out the worst in . So after this weekend I decided to it quits. It's hard to leave this Golden hued one, with his smooth lines and sometimes bubbly personality especially when paired with a spritz of soda and lime on the rocks. However, there is something about him that just gets under my skin. He peels back that thin veneer I have, making Angry Busti come out.

It is not a pretty sight.

We were headed out of town to hear a band that The Hostess with the Mostest had suggested.[See Episode IX: The Hostess with the Mostest ; posted April 20th]  The hubs thought it was an easy way to get back in touch with the group and to meet some new friends. There were no hookups intended unless one wanted to as an individual, since many were staying in the same hotel* [*Or so we thought. Turns out there were two hotels in the vicinity and most of the group that came from out of town stayed at the other one]

The hubs thought this was a good way for me to meet and chat with one of the playmates he has enjoyed at these house parties. I was open to the idea of getting to know her. I had questions, lots of them. We did not know if she would be at the concert that night  but we made plans to meet the next day for lunch. 

An hour or so into our travel we got an email from The Hostess saying the concert  had been canceled. I checked the venue online and sure enough, one of the band members had tested positive for covid so as a precautionary move the band canceled. The Hostess scrambled and alerted her group that she was moving the party to a karaoke bar that was near her home instead.

We got to the hotel and decided to nap a bit before party time. As we got ready, we had a cocktail to relax a bit. Jack Daniels and I warmed up to each other while the hubs napped.

As we were driving to the bar, the hubs texted The Playmate and told her what was up. She texted back that she would meet us there too. We arrived and found The Hostess at a table with chairs all around. She bought some appetizers for the table of guests and as we munched we got caught up on all the happenings since we last saw her. The appetizer did not sit well with the hubs. He wasnt feeling well, almost immediately. He went outside to get some fresh air. I thought he was going to puke. But Jack D and I were having fun, so I kind of ignored it. He then headed for the head and while he was in there, a tall woman came up to the table and asked me if I was me.  I said Hi, and stood up to meet The Playmate. 

My first impression was WTF???

She was the exact opposite of me. I mean...I am short. She is tall. I am busty, curvy, round and quite well padded. She is tall, svelte, slender, flat chested, normal sized. I am a bit glam, even wore false eyelashes that night.  She is completely natural, no makeup.  I wore [ I]Ralph Lauren Blue perfume. She smelled of patchouli. I mean, the only thing we had in common, [kinda] was that her hair was long too. Longer than mine in fact. The difference was her hair is the rasta kind of hair [Think Jamaican singer Bob Marley]. I had never seen rasta hair that long on a white woman!

It was really quite fascinating.

to be continued...
In the meantime, to my friends in the states, hope you have a glorious Thanksgiving!!
Did They Really Mean to Say That?
Posted:Nov 1, 2021 9:42 am
Last Updated:Nov 28, 2021 9:35 am
I love vintage advertising. Maybe it’s the artwork. Maybe it’s the font. Sometimes it’s the copy itself that intrigues. While driving to our Halloween party last night, the hubs told me about an old ad a friend had recently posted on FB. It was from a Yellow Page ad back in the day…titled, “Uptight?” “Have a screw problem?” And that’s way before E.D. was on TV!

I can only imagine the chuckles it got back then.

I recently the thought of a popular company and their tagline popped into my mind:
LAY’S Potato Chips…”Betcha can’t eat just one!”
Remember this guy in all the ads?
bag? or pants?

I wonder how many boys smirked at that one??
Or did they see the double entendre like I did?

Again, the ad company that came up with that one must’ve laughed their asses off at their three martini lunches!! Oh the revenue that campaign must have brought in!

One of my all-time favorite ads was from Jovan Musk Oil Perfume. First, I must say, I loved it back in the day. The scent itself was a huge turn-on for teenagers in lust.
I wrote an essay dissecting the double meaning in a college paper. Got an A on it.
What do you see first in this ad??

The photo was suggestive enough: a man’s hand w/a wedding band on it caressing a woman’s leg under the table at a romantic restaurant.

The tagline read “Jovan Musk…dedicated to the proposition.”

That ad always intrigued me.

Hmmm….maybe I was having a premonition??

What about you? Can you think of some double entendre ads?

And on the way to our friend’s party house, I had to stop and take this pic.

Happy Monday!!
Hair Raising Photo Shoot - Part 2
Posted:Oct 29, 2021 4:45 pm
Last Updated:Nov 28, 2021 9:30 am
I had reschedule the shoot into October due to illness…yep, THAT illness ! I caught a mild case of Covid right around the time of the shoot. Another story another day, I’m afraid.

In the meantime, Gilf did her photo shoot with fantastic results! It was not exactly what she had envisioned, but it was still some outstanding pics that she grew to love. Then the photographer sent me some information and a timeline of what to do up until the photo shoot:

3-4 weeks before: teeth whitening
1 -2 weeks before: get your hair trimmed – not right before, especially your bangs
1 week: get your brows and facial hair removed
Wardrobe pressed, dry cleaned, etc.
2 days before: manicure and pedicure – natural colors of polish
2 days before: Refrain from alcohol and late nights; drink lots of water, get lots of sleep* [*Uhhhhhh…. not my strong suit]
1 day before: hair freshly washed and blowout if need be
Wardrobe and accessory checklist completed and laid out
Day of shoot: Shave, brush hair, Clean face, no makeup when you arrive

Holy Moley! I just want a f***ing pic taken!

So this last Monday was the day. I woke up early. Planned and organized a list of what I needed to bring…half my wardrobe and four pairs of shoes! My hubs came home from dispatch [he goes in to work by 5:30 am every day and is usually home by 7:30 am if he’s not dispatched out] “C’mon, we have to take my car into the shop this morning,” he said.

“Did you tell me about this??” I asked irritably.

“I just remembered it this morning”.

So 30 minutes of driving to and from the car shop threw me off my game. I continued getting ready but, for some reason thought I had more time than I did. I had a breakfast. Then I took my “morning with the pussy” time.

Ha! NOT what you think!!

My cat and I have a morning ritual where he lays across my chest five ten minutes while I have my coffee and pet him. It’s a thing. Every morning.
I was just starting load my car with garment bags when I said, “Does that say :30??”

“Yup” said the hubs.


“What time you need be there?”

“NOW!!!” I said as I literally threw the bags and suitcase in the car.

I made it in record time; still 25 minutes behind schedule while I worked on my breathing. Namaste.

I know that messes with everyone’s time frame. I felt so unprofessional! I mean, even when I’m organized, I’m disorganized!! I started relax in the makeup chair. I had requested glam makeup: you know, dramatic eyes, red lips, etc.

That is not how the make-up artist rolls, however. She did a wonderful job of bringing out my eyes in a subtle fashion, my lips a natural color, and lightly hightlighting cheekbones, etc. I expected more dramatic makeup. I’d had a “Glamour Shots” kind of photo back in the 80s. They did dramatic makeup as it was a black and white photo shoot. This was different.

We had tentatively planned out the order of the shoot beforehand…only I completely forgot one of the wardrobe items. We went with Wardrobe 2: The Harley Jacket. Part of my “rule breaker” persona. I wore thigh black stockings and a black camisole that is so long on my short body that it could double as a sexy mini black dress! The Harley jacket was bulky and hard to pose in, but it got me warmed up for posing. Which is a good thing, cuz it was cold in that cavernous space.

I learned a lot about posing: which is your side [my right side]; how an arched back with butt out lengthens you: pressing your whole face forward like you are pressing your nose against a window creates a more defined neck and chin; and how subtle movement changes can enhance or ruin a shot if you get out of range of the lighting.

I learned new words and phrases that day too. “Doe Eyes”; “Catch Light”. Oh! And enunciating the words “Prune” and “Poop” relaxes your mouth into a natural sexy pout. Who knew those were sexy words??

Catch light is when your eyes really capture the light source. It makes all the difference in a portrait photo. It is what makes your eyes sparkle.

Most of my looks were black. But we changed it up with the next wardrobe look: a long peach satin negligee with lace bodice and a denim jacket over it. We weren’t really going for a boudoir look, just a color look.

We did one other lingerie look, a black negligee with a pleated bodice. The hubs really liked that one the other night.

Finally, I wore an elegant black cocktail dress with a soft draped bodice and a paneled skirt that was simply made for twirling or for a wind tunnel. Which they turned on blast at first. Brrr!!! I was already freezing!

But it was fun! She said I had more expressions than she usually works with. And that I naturally knew how pose…[?] Must’ve been that early training with my Dad [see Oct. 23rd post]. She said I knew how hold my hands. That’s apparently a hard thing master in pics. She took over pics. We narrowed it down about 1. This is the first one she posted. Hot off the press, unretouched. I’m looking forward to another shoot with her in the next two weeks as we had some other ideas we didn’t get to.

All in all, the experience was transformative for me. I really have been camera shy for the most part of my life. This experience brought me to a place of self-acceptance; of actually loving who I am and the skin I’m in. She captured an elegance I never saw in myself before.

It was worth it, just to discover that.

Hair Raising Photo Shoot - Part One
Posted:Oct 28, 2021 12:03 pm
Last Updated:Nov 12, 2021 10:22 am
I don’t usually like getting my photo taken; although, if you’ve seen my profile pics, you’d think otherwise. I took a lot of selfies last year only because friends here asked for them. I usually end up crossing my eyes and being goofy when I have to pose for other people’s photos.

So when my friend Gilf suggested we participate in a local photography studio’s project, I balked at the idea. Not only is it designed as a photo shoot to us the photos; she’s planning to have it as a gallery showing and wants to print our “stories” in a self-published magazine. Not a bad marketing ploy, I gotta say.

“Do it for yourself. Puhleeze!”, Gilf said. “We all have this image of ourselves in our head; it would be good to see yourself as others see you! It would be so good for your self-confidence!” I have already gained some confidence just by being on this site, actually. [Thank you very much for all the kind words and comments here, by the way. ]

“Ummm…I am not so sure I want to tell ‘my story””, I said.

“Tell as much or as as you ! The focus is on being true to yourself. How you’ve been overcoming shit in your life.”

I agreed to fill out the form and sent it in. I heard back from the photographer almost immediately. Made the appointment to meet her.

Her studio is huge, at least to me it is. She has several backdrops and vignettes around it, a rack of clothing, a makeup chair and a huge monitor to view film. We sat at her conference table and she asked me what I thought I would to portray in the shoot.

“Umm, no clue, actually. I know Gilf has some preset ideas.” She sees herself as “breaking out” and finding herself again after her marriage and wanted to reflect that in her pics.

If I saw myself as anything, I saw myself as a "rule breaker". I told the photographer that, but in much tamer examples than you would thin

Like my hair for instance. Usually women of a certain age do not have their white hair down to their waists. It’s just “not done”. I have a friend, a former hair stylist who would tell me when he thought I really needed to get my hair cut. It is “out of proportion”, he’d say. I’d smile sweetly and simply say, “Fuck off!”.

My hair never grew this long when I . My sister’s did. She like a curvy, busty version of Cher when we were teenagers. She worked as a lifeguard in the summers, so with her tan, her big brown eyes and that hair, she stunning. So stunning, in fact, that my driver’s education teacher would make me drive to the pool she worked at. He would lean over and honk the horn trying to get her attention. [Imagine a faculty member trying to do that nowadays!!]

Creepy, I know.

I always so jealous of her straight thick dark hair. To make matters worse, she had the bright idea of cutting my wavy shoulder length hair into a perky pixie. The stylist went nuts with the idea, and before I knew it, I ended up with hair so short, I couldn’t even part it. I cried for weeks. This the 70s folks, when Farrah Fawcett hairstyles ran rampant in my high school.

So, when I started to leave my hair alone: putting it in a bun after shampooing, letting it dry naturally, it became softer and silkier. So what if I in my late 50s? I went with it!

The photographer gained my trust and totally excited to photograph my hair. We met in July, scheduling the photo shoot for September. She wanted me to send her inspiration photos – things I might want to see happen in the shoot; how I wanted my makeup; wardrobe ideas.

I nervous now. All this for a photo shoot? What had I gotten myself into??

October 23rd - Happy Birthday, Dad!
Posted:Oct 23, 2021 10:58 am
Last Updated:Oct 31, 2021 5:25 pm

He was a Scorpio, I am a Pisces. In the zodiac scheme of things, we should have gotten along famously.

When I was a we did. As a baby, I can remember him coming home from work, seeing me and putting his hand on top of his head in a satirical “Marilyn Monroe glamour pose”. I would then copy him and it pleased him no end. He even snapped a photo of me at two years old, doing that.

He used to make pancakes on Sundays, and let me help with stirring the batter and watching them cook in the pan. When there were just enough holes in them, I’d tell him it was time to flip ‘em. Sometimes it was banana pancakes and lots of times, he colored them green. He made some strange recipes that have been a part of the family lore and tradition: squared potatoes [we also call them “blackened square potatoes” only acceptable with enough char on every side], Spanish rice, cooked in a cast iron skillet with slices of cheese melted on them, and his anchovy dressing. Anchovy dressing had to be my Dad’s take on Caesar dressing; only he flavored it with Worcestershire sauce, tabasco sauce, and liquid smoke. Seriously, I loved it as a , and I have yet to duplicate it adequately. Maybe that’s a good thing!

He loved talking politics and football. Adored his 49ers, and called out mistakes on plays before Howard Cosell could critique it on air. He’d barbecue on those days. We still have a standing joke about “Put the burgers on the grill and check ‘em at half-time!” Oh the hockey pucks we’d have to douse in ketchup in order to eat them!

Talking politics made for some interesting dinner talk for my brother and him. I was a bit of an angst-y , who was more interested in psychology and relationships than I was in those conversations. So, that is probably when the divide began.

Or maybe it was when I finally realized he was actually Santa.

He had me believing for a very long time: he’d throw rocks on the roof and then, back in the house, excitedly say, “Did you hear that? I think it’s reindeer on the roof!” From Thanksgiving till Christmas, he’d drop hard candies throughout the house; by the sliding glass door, or on the window sills and say, “Oh, lookit that there! Santa’s been here checking up on you!” One night he strung sleigh bells diagonally across our bedroom window, and hiding under the window outside, he used a stick to reach out and ring the bells when we were in bed. Scared the Bejesus out of me!

As I grew older, the divide widened. He was gruff and argumentative so it became easier to hide and do things behind his back rather than take the issue head on. Being around him was like seeing Archie Bunker live and in person. He didn’t like me growing up and meeting boys; when I moved out on my own, he called me a slut. I think to guilt me into staying as I was the youngest, and the last to leave home.

When I eloped to Reno with the hubs it took me two weeks to finally tell him.

When my brother announced they were going to be parents, he was not excited about it, but rather pulled my sibling aside and said, “What about your political career?”

We decided “Gramps” was not a fitting title for him; “Grumps” was his moniker from that point on.

We didn’t notice the Alzheimer’s was an issue early on. It was a very slow progression. He’d come up with funny nicknames for people. We thought that was just Dad being Dad. We realized later, it was because he couldn’t remember their real names. Then there was the time we almost missed a flight to Arizona because we couldn’t find Dad. Turned out he was at his shop; like a normal Saturday. He grumbled all the way to the airport.

He started talking about his siblings that had already passed. He’d say they came and sat at the foot of his bed, and just talk to him. Sometimes it would be just their heads. He’d realize it was just a dream after a minute or so of talking about it but sometimes it was hard to shake; they looked so real, he'd report.

In later years, when I was pregnant with my , I went to visit him at the adult family home he was at. He kept calling me “Dot”, the pet name of his younger sister, and asked me if I had met Patty Ann yet. Patty Ann was my mom.
Those last few months brought us around full circle. All the pain of harsh words and harsher actions just kind of melted away. I used to joke and say we got along better when he didn’t know who I was.

He passed three weeks after my was born. He met my just a few days before.

He wasn’t a perfect Dad. Theirs wasn’t a perfect marriage. We weren’t a perfect family. But, there was always the ability to laugh in the midst. I attribute that to him. He was a clown, a comic, a cook [?] and a charmer.

What I wouldn’t give to see that Monroe pose again!
Paranormal Activity - Part 2 I Heard from Casper
Posted:Oct 22, 2021 10:50 am
Last Updated:Nov 26, 2021 1:22 pm

Tis the Season!

It’s the things that go bump in the night.

They keep up. The last few nights I have gone to bed late [after 1 AM] with my body exhausted and ready to sleep but my mind ready to tackle quantum theories. Why is that??

Okay, I’m not that intellectual, but I do have issues with my mind not shutting off when it needs to.

So, I thought about him again. My FWB that dropped mid-sentence back in July; haven’t heard from him since. I let the matter drop too, but he was never far from my thoughts.

He wasn’t someone I was initially attracted to. However, he played his cards well with me: took his time, made me really feel desired, not just about the sex, not pressured. I told my friend, Gilf that he “bore acquaintance”.

I am not one for hysterics or drama. Did I react hysterically when I found out about the hubs? Okay, maybe a little , but in this game, not so much. Of course when I was ghosted, I wondered often about what might have happened to him, or us, or if I’d ever see him again, yet I've had enough to occupy my time and my thoughts lately.

But, still…I wondered…

So, I got the courage and the words to write him a note. Just to explain myself and my thoughts.

Cuz, that’s kinda what I do…I write. To express myself. To find my voice. Especially here.

So I did. I wrote a very nicely written note, I might add. No, I didn’t tell him to fuck off, but I did let him know he was an asshole by ghosting me…and in the nicest possible way too!

Told him I wouldn’t stalk him…what the fuck is the point in doing that??? In fact, I told him this would be my last communication with him. I just wanted to know what happened. I even gave him a multiple choice, complete with:

 None of the above
 All of the above

I wished him all the best and sent it off into the ether. I sent it, not expecting a return, rather to simply let my thoughts be heard. In other words, I did it for Me. To say what needed to be said without regard to what would happen.

To simply do it.

Two days later while checking my email, I saw he wrote back. I hugged my phone. I didn’t open the email right away. I wanted to make sure I was alone; to read it in its entirety without interruption.

What happened was that his wife found out. She had put a tracker on his car. She knew about the local hotel stays.

So, another nuclear bomb goes off in another living room. [cue “Another One Bites the Dust”]

I felt a real bittersweet sadness. Sadness for him; for her; for them; and sadness for us. Knowing that this abrupt ending is the end of us. I have fond memories of him and "us". I will definitely miss him.

They are working on their marriage. He used the phrase “we are careening along”. I know this word, “careening”. I relived my own story as I read his.

Which brings me to this. Unfortunately, of the men I communicate with, online or otherwise, [especially otherwise] 99.5% are married. Of that percentage, 99.7% do not tell or include their wives.

This is the reality of the site. While I have enjoyed several excursions via this place, I can count on one hand the single men I’ve met.

His message really hit home with me. I think at this time; I only want to play singles games.

I don’t want to be the cause of someone else’s anguish.
Then & Now: Two Poems
Posted:Oct 5, 2021 10:18 am
Last Updated:Nov 23, 2021 3:02 pm
Hmmm…found this today in old files…I’ve come a long way, !

I am She

I am She
sits alone
Just be in a crowded place
with people don't know her

I am She

is old and wise
but not wise enough
see the truth

I am She

the odd duck
in the neighborhood bar
trying hard hold on
live in the moment
without being seen

I am She

that nobody knows
yet everyone recognizes
when the music starts
she closes her eyes,
feels the rhythm
coursing through her blood
fists open then close the beat
that pulsing primal flood
screaming “move! Move! MOVE!
Move dammit!”
Shake that thing,
That thing that grips and taunts
Shapes your days

I Am She

Whose wings
Ripped from her back
by treacherous love
corrupted completely
betrayal finished the act
with hope of recovery
pain that sears the wounds in my back.

ok, that was then.
This is now: written 6-24-20





I’ve Said Too Much
Posted:Oct 2, 2021 9:51 am
Last Updated:Oct 27, 2021 8:59 am

I went out with the girls last night. Had a glass of wine with my friends that I used to work with. Gilf and I usually meet up once a week, a habit started last year when everything was in lockdown. Back then the conversations were fresh and fun. Both of us were relishing our newfound freedoms and licking our wounds at the same time. We started to record our conversations thinking we’d start a podcast on sexuality as “women of a certain age”. I thought I lost a lot of them when my phone was stolen, but found some in emails recently.

We still laugh when we are together. She shares about her week; work and her out of town visits with her lover. I share about my life and my lovers. It’s just a nice exchange with a friend that I can confide in.

Except that she had told one of our coworkers about my situation some months back. I know because I’m getting ready to go back to the job part-time as a vendor. I met up with the coworker at the beginning of the summer to discuss scheduling and while there she said something about not being judgmental about things at all. My eyes got wide and I asked, “That’s nice. Judgmental about what?”

“Well, Gilf mentioned something...”

“Really???What has Gilf told you?”

“Not much at all” she back pedaled. “Just that your situation has changed. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to anybody.”


It surprised me that Gilf would do that. She has always been so trustworthy in the past. I think we were both a bit unsteady last year: with everything changing in our lives, it might have made us both a bit vulnerable. I think she referenced it in the context of her re-emerging relationships, as much as mine when relating it to our coworker.

I left it at that that day last summer. Since we were gearing up for Fall classes, I met with the co-worker again yesterday afternoon and went to Gilf’s office afterwards. The coworker seemed stressed and tired [the job will do that to a person], so when we passed her in the hallway, I asked her if she wanted to join us for a glass of wine. She said “yes please! If it’s okay with you guys”.

We headed to our local dive bar to meet. We talked, well THEY talked about work, as I sipped my wine and listened. Somehow the conversation strayed off into Relationship-Land, with the co-worker sharing a few intimacies about her marriage, and Gilf talking about her latest trip with her boytoy. With the coworker there it was a little harder for me to share about my latest excursions, so I just sat back and watched those two chatting.

But there is something in me that wants to talk about my choices; my journey to this lifestyle. It’s an abhorrent choice to some, and something inside me wants to challenge some of those notions. I don’t know why…maybe it’s about justification for my own actions. Maybe it’s to illuminate the sub cultural trend that’s out there. [Even an article cited that over 40% of marriages are experiencing infidelity*] Maybe I just wanted to take the glass slipper of fairy tale endings that we women have been enculturated with and dash it to the ground!

I started talking a bit about my story: discovering my hub’s infidelity, making the choice not to leave, recognizing my own culpability as to his straying…and how this 180 degree turn actually improved our relationship.
She-Who-Says-She-Doesn’t-Judge sat there with her mouth hanging open. She said, “I never have thought about my part in it”.

Yeah, well, I did.

I have never thought of myself as a strong person. In fact, choosing to stay in the marriage while Gilf “braved” leaving hers kind of made me feel weak. She’s always been the “I am Woman, watch me roar” type. There’s lots of reasons for leaving, but there’s lots of reasons for staying too. I look back on the reasoning and the circumstance now and I feel more empowered than I used to.

I said as much last night. I also said that I’ve learned that I can love more than one, just like the hubs said to me at one point regarding having me and the GF: “For the last two years, I’ve loved two women!!” he said. I also believe one can love others for different reasons as life goes on; and that there isn’t just a “one and only” for everyone.

Gilf challenged that one. Tried to tell me that there is a way to have a one and only that fulfills all your needs: physical, spiritual and emotional. The hubs and I had this conversation ages ago. In fact, I think it came up in the pre-marital classes we took after the fact: Do you believe that one person can be your “be all/end all”?? Why or Why Not? At the time, I thought “Of course!” [Yeah, I’ve got my friends Cinderella and Snow here to confirm all that!] As life went on and my Prince Charming began to get a bit of rust on his crown, I changed my view. It became more about percentages and ratios: like the 80/20 rule. Actually, maybe life, and our needs, became more faceted; where one person fulfilled one aspect, and another fulfills another.

Or, maybe I’ve just become more jaded in my old age. Either way, I don’t know that my small part of the world isn’t ready for my expansive views.
I think I said too much.

*From online magazine article "Why Do People Look For Sex Outside of Marriage" by Rascal Solomon Sept. 14, 2021

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