It is to Laugh...

Someone recently insinuated to me that I'm selfish.  In fact the words used were, "it's all about you."  And when it was said I laughed.   Then I thought about it.  Then I was filled with self doubt for a little while.  Then I questioned everything.  And then, then... I sat back and laughed uproariously until there were tears streaming down my face.

Selfish.  I may be be a lot of things, but selfish isn't one of them.  Although it is true that I am actually trying to think more about myself, what I want and how to get it.  Is that selfish?   I guess it could be looked at that way although the comment wasn't prompted by these things.  At any rate, I did laugh it off and I will continue to laugh it off.  Because it's not true.  And the person who said it can go fuck himself.

Over the past couple of years, I've realized that I have put myself and what I want on the back burner in order to do whatever needs to be done for other people.  Whether it be the man, the parents, or friends.  I guess that's not necessarily a bad thing but when you lose yourself in the process it does become a problem.  And now that my eyes are open to it, I want to change it.  And by changing it, I have ended up alienating some people.  Why?  Because they want to continue to have the Lalia they know, the one that will accommodate them and their needs and not the Lalia who realized she's a badass chick who needs to embrace the badass and enjoy her freakin life!  I haven't enjoyed my life for so many years.  Which is not to say I haven't have times of enjoyment, I have.  But have I truly enjoyed my life?  No.  And I'm not getting any younger so if not now, when?  So if you don't like it, fuck you.  Be as supportive as I've been of you or get the fuck out of my life.

It frustrates me that I cannot find a job.  I try not to think about it in terms of... "if I get a job, everything will be better."  I don't know that to be true but I do know that getting a job will give me a better feeling of independence and self sufficience.  And at this point, that is something I desperately need.  I hate that I can't make things happen faster.  I've been looking for a job for over a year.  I know this isn't unusual these days and people who have worked steadily have trouble finding work.   I haven't been in the work force for about 12 years so that makes it even more difficult.  But I will find a job.  It's just moving too damn slow and patience is not a quality I possess.

All I can do is continue to try.  Send out resumes, make contacts, and enjoy life being a badass.  And that's what I intend to do!

Resentment

Resentment.  That's the word that continues to dominate my thoughts.  And I try, I try so hard not to feel it, think it, live it.  But it gets harder and harder not to.  Because it's there.  It's always there.  I can't ignore it anymore.

I'm trying to establish a life for myself.  I keep trying and I keep failing.  Part of it is my own fault for being unable to secure a job after 11 years out of the workplace.  I waited too long.  I have no one to blame for that but me.  I tell myself that it will happen, that I need to be patient.  Not only with finding a job but with my heart's desire too.  And then it feels like it will never happen.  Circumstances get in my way constantly.

Just today I was taking a shower and a very strong desire to run away from home overtook me.  And I actually started to contemplate it.  To plan for it.  I started to tie up a few loose ends so that I can go, just go and not have them hanging over my head... an oil change, a haircut, a candy order that I needed to fill.  Get them done and then go... go somewhere, anywhere but here.  It'll hurt him, the man, but thinking of that stopping me adds to the resentment.  Do I always have to do what is best for everyone else, but me?   When do I take care of me?  What do I do for myself that gives me joy or happiness?  The answer to that is that I occasionally get a new tattoo.  That brings me joy, happiness and it's all for me.  Other than that, my existence seems to be to fulfill other people's needs.  And that leads to more resentment.

So I dreamed of getting away, running away.  Not forever, but long enough to clear my head and decide what I really want and where I want to be.  Enough time to stop feeling so much resentment towards so many.

The man... always trying not to harm him, not hurt or upset him.  So much like my mother in that regard it pisses me off.  Repeating history all the while telling her to stop doing that but not listening to my own words.  Existing to make his dinner because I feel like I have no other purpose.

My mother... whenever I make plans, plans of any kind whether they be to go away for a weekend or spend a day to myself either job hunting, writing, reading or just taking care of me, she needs something and I go.   And I resent it.  I resent that there are so many things she can't seem to do for herself.  I resent that I am the only one she can call who will always go and help.  I resent that I have little to no help when it comes to her or my father.

My father... probably the neediest of a all.  He is not well and continues to go downhill.  He refuses to do anything for himself.  Just flat out refuses.  He no longer wants to walk (he has a prosthetic leg and can walk with the aid of a walker) so insists on using the wheelchair.  But he also refuses to push himself once he's in it.  He wants whoever is there to push him while he sits back and does nothing.  This week he was admitted to the hospital, again, for congestive heart failure.  This has been going on since before Thanksgiving, but he never would say what was bothering him.  He had a stomach ache, that's all he would say.  He'd been to the doctor a few times, and that was all he would tell them too so they prescribe antacids and things like that.  No one caught that he had a ton of water sitting in his lungs for months.   Yesterday the doctor took a needle and drained his lung of a liter and a half of liquid.  And today they sent him home.  He's not well.  He's unable to walk and he seems kind of spacey.  Maybe he's had another stroke, I don't know.  But my 4 ft 11 mother cannot take care of a 6 ft 2 father who cannot walk or do anything for himself anymore.

My siblings... I can hear in my siblings voices that I should go there and stay with them to help out, even though they don't come out and say it.  Because if they do, they will be on the business end of a big fat "fuck you, you do it!"  One lives in FL, one lives in AL and one lives here.  I resent that two moved a way and the third is planning his move with his family within two years, which will leave me here holding the bag completely with our parents.  Not that I get much help from him now, but I get some and some is better than none.

I resent that everyone can live their lives but me.  I resent myself for feeling this way.  I resent myself for seemingly doing the right things for everyone but myself.  I resent myself for feeling selfish because of these feelings.   I resent myself for letting my life take a back seat to everyone and watching life pass me by.  I resent that there is no end in sight to any of this.

This. Is. Crazy.

Dear Lalia 12 years ago,

I know you just left a job you loved, and not by choice but by circumstance of the branch being closed down.  It is what it is.  But girl, you have mad skills!  You are in demand so don't take too much time off.  Get back on that horse and find the next job of your dreams.

Love, you

Dear Me,

But, but, but....  You know as well as I do that I probably never would have left my job voluntarily.  So now that it's been taken from me, it's my chance to do something completely different, completely out of the box.  I love to cook, what if I try starting my own catering business.  I can work out of my house and it'll be great!  That's what I'm going to do.

Thanks, love you.... Lalia

It was great.  For a short time.  Until the economy took a nosedive.  Until I realized I couldn't cater jobs by myself.  Until I didn't have enough room in my house to store large trays of food or to cook large trays of food.  Until it wasn't great anymore.  So where does that leave me?   It's 12 years later and the economy is still in the shitter.  Money is tight and I need to work.  So I decide to go back to what I know, office work.  Well that's what I thought I'd be doing anyway.  There are jobs to be had, but the pay scale is so awful it's hard to wrap my hairdo around what is going on.

I had a job interview this week.  It sounded really good, interesting, different and even fun.  And the best part, they use Mac computers.  I'm a Mac girl through and through.  I love all things Apple.  I cried when Steve Jobs died.  I want to change my name to iLalia.  And Mac jobs are few and far between.  They pretty much don't exist unless you are in some kind of graphic design field.  This job is not exactly graphic design but along those lines.  It was pretty exciting to be called for an interview on this one.  So I went and all was well.  The job was nothing like anything I had done before but they seemed interested in me.  They seemed thrilled with all my Mac experience.   So I am liking how this is going.  Until they told me the salary.  $10 and hour.  Seriously.  $20K a year.  Do you know anyone who could live on that?  Me either.

OK yes, I've been out of work for a long time and I realize I have to start over.  But that is less than I was making 12 years ago.  Cost of living has changed.  Gas prices have changed.  Everything has changed.  I never thought I'd be making less than I was making back then.  Maybe the same, but most likely I expected a bit more because of cost of living changes.  So not the case.  

So what does one do, other than brood and cry and lament the fact that by trying to establish my own business I have in essence ruined my life.  Maybe that's not true, but it feels true.  There are so many things I want to do.  So many things out of my reach because I cannot find a job that will pay me enough to make those changes happen.  Do I change course and try a whole different line of work again?  Go with what you know seems logical.  But how can you go with what you know when everyone is struggling so much that companies can't pay better salaries?

When I'm in an interview and am asked the question, "What are you looking for?" My standard answer, with pauses at the appropriate times so it looks like I'm just making this up on the fly (ha!), is "Well... I'd like to be in a place where I like the people I'm working with.   Where I don't dread going everyday and where I'm doing work I can be proud of."  In both interviews I've had, I've used this line (it actually was on the fly in the first interview and went over so well I decided to use it again in the next one).  Both interviewers loved it, so feel free to use it if you find yourself in a similar position and are asked that question.  The thing is, it's not bullshit.   I do want to be around people I like, doing work I can be proud of, in a place I won't dread going to.  I'm 46 years old, on a fast track to 47.  I don't want to be one of those people on Facebook who posts some whiney ass graphic every Monday morning that declares how much Monday's suck.  I just want to be able to make ends meet.  It's not really a lot to ask.  But at the moment it feels completely unattainable.

PS... sorry all my posts are so angsty lately.

Tag Tag Taggity Tag

Well thank you Ms. Redhead!  My friend Janine over at Reflections from a Red Head has tagged me this cute bloggers game.  Questions, answers, tags... all kinds of fun stuff and a nice little distraction from all the angst of late.

Here are the rules:

1.  The first rule of the tag is never discuss the tag... wait, no, that's not right.

1.  Post the rules
2.  Answer the questions the tagger set for the post
3.  Create 11 new questions to ask the people you've tagged (or use the existing ones)
4.  Tag people with a link to your post (it says tag 11 but I don't know 11!)
5.  Let them know they've been tagged.

Here's my Q & A

What is the thing that makes you want to get out of bed each day?  Who says I get out of bed each day?

What do you tell yourself to get through painful, difficult, or challenging times? It had been: "It has to get better."  I DO NOT and I repeat I DO NOT EVER say "it can't get much worse" because it always can.   But lately I'm trying to go more along these lines...

What can you look back on and remind yourself you were successful at, or were strong enough to come through?    My father's illness, eight months of hell, doctors, surgeries and recuperation. 

Look around you at this moment and choose one thing to smile about or be thankful for. What is it? My beautiful kitties Murphy, Jett and Bowie.  

If you could do anything at this moment to make yourself happy, what would it be? No comment. =)

Do you have a special place, real or imagined, where you go to in your mind or reality to regroup, seek peace, or just be? A nearby park that I haven't been to lately because it's about 95 fucking degrees outside every day and I can't cope with the heat.

Has there been a particular book that you have read that inspired or motivated you to seek your potential? "Fear of Flying" by Erica Jong.  There is so much in that book that made me sit back and think that there is so much more to life.

What childhood fable, fairytale, or movie stretched your imagination and sticks with you today? Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.  The Gene Wilder version.  It showed that no matter what your station in life, you can achieve your hearts desire.  And there's chocolate!

What is your favorite form of art and artist (anyone and anything you consider art qualifies)? Music.  Music speaks to me.  It's always there for me.  It helps me cope.  It cheers me up.  It commiserates with me when I'm down.  It never hurts me.  

Do you have a personal anthem, a song, that reminds you of who you are and want to be, that represents the ideal of you? No, I really don't think I do.  I'll have to think on that one.

What did you experience while answering these questions? Some introspection.  A little sadness.  Some pride.

And now the taggies.... (remember, no pressure.  you don't have to play if you don't want)

Joy at Catharsis, Mary at The Adventures of Cilgin Kiz, Thom at To Gyre and Gambol, Beckey at My Really Real Reality, and Judy at The Underwear Chronicles.

Scary Exciting

I'm standing on the edge of some very big decisions.  Huge, life changing decisions.  Decisions that I have spent years thinking about.  Decisions that will change everything as I know it.  Every. Single. Thing.  It's terrifying and exciting. 

I've been complacent.  Content to live a non life.  A life of sameness.  Where nothing new ever happens.  Where no trips are taken.  Where going out has become a thing of the past.  Where I feel like I'm drowning.  Where I feel more like 76 than 46.  And the breaking point has built and built over the years. 

I've heard myself say this and when I hear myself say it, I think it sounds so fucking stupid, but it's so very true.  I ran a very popular website and message board for 13 years.  It took a lot of time.  More time than I ever really knew until I let it go in January.  Once that part of my life was closed, the amount of time I had was unreal.  And the amount of time I had to think about how I wanted different things really started to weigh on me.  And weigh on me.  And weigh on me.  More and more my thoughts turned to things I want to do, to accomplish, to change.

I've said before that it's been pointed out to me that perhaps I am having a midlife crisis.  And I've said before that I don't think that is what is happening.  And I don't.  I think I have just finally woken up.  I have finally seen that a life of nothingness is not fulfilling. The decisions that I'm making are painful and difficult.  I don't know what's going to happen.  I don't know if once the decisions are made if I will be happier.  That's the thing about really big important decisions... you have no way of knowing if they are the right ones until you actually make them and then either way you have to live with them.  So yeah, pretty scary.

So what do you do?  Do you risk everything for a chance at something better (and also risk something far worse?) or do you continue on the path of safety?  Safety sucks.  Safety is boring.  I think I'm really done with safety.  I want more... so much more.

And that brings up another question... am I being selfish?  Maybe, probably.  But so fucking what.  For so long I have lived my life for everyone else.  Everyone but me.  And I finally realize there is something wrong with that picture.  I'm 46 years old and I'm not getting any younger.  It's time to live for Lalia.

Just feeling it today...

Laying Low

I've been quiet lately.   Very quiet, which is kind of strange for me really.  I'm sure many have noticed.  I'd notice if I wasn't me.  It's not conscious or purposeful, it just is.  Maybe my mind is so overloaded with things right now that I don't know what to say so instead say nothing?  That could be. 

So much in my life has changed over the past 4 or 5 years and things keep on changing.  Some things are coming full circle, others are growing and evolving, and still others are coming to an end.  It's kind of scary and exciting all rolled into one.  There are days when I am so happy and so excited about what lies ahead that I can't even contain myself.  I burst with joy.  Then there are days when I feel sad about what I'm leaving behind.  Some of my decisions might be wrong, not what someone else would do, or end up being a disappointment to family or friends.  But the thing is, I'm 46 years old and I cannot live my life based on how others will react to what I am doing.  It's not who I am.  I can't live my life for someone else.  I can only live for me.  If that sounds selfish, so be it, but that isn't the intent.  The intent is to make myself happy.  If I can't do that, who will?  No one. 

So often I've felt judged by people, judged on how I write, judged on how I look, judged on a decision I make.  Judged by people I know, love or don't know at all.  And I don't like that feeling.  No one does.  It makes you second guess yourself and if I've learned nothing else in my 4+ decades on this earth, it's to trust my own instincts. 

I've joked to many that I think I'm going through a midlife crisis, but I don't really think that at all.  It's funny to say it, but no.  I don't believe that's it.  I think that so much has happened that I have woken up to the fact that I don't have all the time in the world anymore.  That differences that never used to matter, now seem to.  That even though I never ever imagined I'd be here, that it feels so good and natural and maybe even how it should be.  That the things I want, they matter and no one but me can make them happen.  It might be a bumpy ride, but anything worthwhile is going to be. 

Lasting Love

I've been pondering a lot lately, the idea of lasting, even everlasting, love.  I always thought that once you loved someone, truly and wholly, that love never fades.  So I wonder, if you felt love for someone and then you don't, does that mean you never truly loved them in the first place?

I can easily, with no doubts in my mind or heart, say that I love the two friends I've reconnected with this year.  I have always loved them, and will always love them.  When you are apart for so many years, but never stop thinking of that person, and then you are back again in each others lives and you have the same feelings you did, yes, that is a true and lasting love.  And it warms the cockles.  I feel happy when I think of them (and others too, but right now I'm focused on this reconnection phenomenon).  I'm not talking about romantic love although I'm not sure there should be different distinctions when you talk about love.

But right now I am finding that I do not feel love for someone I thought I did.  Does it mean there never was love?  Or it was mistaken for something else?   Or is there only so much lies, deception and betrayal someone can take before they lose that love.  I thought it was true.  I thought it was whole.  I felt a connection that I couldn't really explain.  It seemed so fated for us to meet and become friends.  It seemed so right, even though everyone I knew told me it was so very wrong.  The warnings I received from so many people feel on deaf ears because I knew in my heart that we were meant to be friends, friends for life.  I ignored smaller deceptions because in the big scheme of things they didn't seem important.  But when the big pain hit, it changed things.  Things would never be the same.  Some pains are just too deep.  And while I have received an apology, twice, it doesn't change the fact that it happened and that it didn't have to happen.  It was avoidable.

I have forgiven. I have to.  I can't hold on to that type of anger. But I can't forget how it felt to have my heart ripped out of my chest.  Maybe the pain is still too fresh and that will fade too.  I've said before that I have no regrets, and I don't.  I like to think I meant something, even though it's over now.  I have to believe something positive came out of it for both of us.  But it doesn't answer the question... does love last forever?  And if it does, where is the love I once felt now?

How Did We Get Here?

I've come to the end of my several weeks of angst.  This particular several weeks of angst, I should clarify.  I'm sure I'll have more in the future.   But this particular dilemma, trauma, whatever you want to call it, is now over.  It's hard to look at the time I spent on someone as a waste.  I do not think of it as a waste.  I think that people come into our lives at certain times to fill a need, or you fill a need for them.  And I think we absolutely did that for each other.  I'm not sure I can say the friendship is over, because I'm not sure it ever will be completely over.  But I do see it with much more clarity now, meaning I have accepted that I'll never really know what happened and have decided to move the fuck on.

I've been reflecting on a lot of things lately, writing in my Bite Me book.  What can I say, I get introspective from time to time (to time).  What I have been thinking about is how certain people come into your life and how others come back into your life after long periods of absence.  My pain filled tirades of late have given way to something completely different and unexpected.  A few days ago, I felt the closure I needed from that situation, the most closure I'll get anyway and I am as over it as I will ever be.  And that same night the man and I went out with R, an old beau of mine, to see an old friend of ours band.  And as that night went on, I realized I was out with two guys I have known over 25 years, watching another friend I've known even longer.  And it put so much in perspective.

At one point, R said to me, "isn't it cool that all these years later we can still hang out together?"  And the answer is, it's amazing.  R and I have been in touch, here and there for about 10 years or so, but before that we hadn't been in touch for over 10 years.  And now it's quite possible that we will remain in touch again.  We had a great time and are looking forward to hanging out some more.  It was the first time we have gone out together in probably about 23 or so years.  We did run into each other about 9 months ago but it wasn't a planned get together.  This was planned and it was nice, fun, oh fuck who am I kidding... it totally fucking rocked!

I got to wondering what brings people back into your life after a long absence?  And I think the answer is that everyone is looking for something familiar.  R and I did not have a falling out at all, we just drifted.  It happens.  And so introspection begets introspection and wonder begets wonder.  When I reconnected with TM, who incidentally is the friend who's band we went to see.  TM and I talked about everything and how much we had thought about each other or told others stories about things we had done together.  So I knew that TM had been thinking about me over the years the way I had been thinking about him.  With R, who knows.  I'm not sure it matters, but I'll guess yes, he has thought of me over the years.  Fondly I might add.  If not, why even bother starting a friendship again?  I have certainly thought about him, and have written about him here several times.  He is someone I have always cared about.  Not taking away anything from the friends I have made since then, the friends you make when you are at the pinnacle of your life are always the best ones aren't they?  What I mean is, in those formative years, the people who are around you at those times are the ones you tend to gravitate back to.  Because they are familiar.  Because they were with you when.  Because they know you inside and out and they get it, they get who you are.  Because you know, without a shred of doubt they care about you and always will.  It's like what Richard Dreyfuss as adult Gordie said in the movie Stand by Me... "I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?"  For me, I've never had any friends like the ones I had when I was in my early 20's.

I have some amazing friends in my life now.  Of course I do, L, and L, and R, and A, and my PBAU peeps and the gardeners and my SLUTS (don't ask).  And I love them, they've been there for me when I needed them and I hope I have done the same in return.   And now, even if another 20 years goes by and I never speak to R, TM, or M I know without any uncertainty that I matter to them.  I know it about others too. And knowing that means everything.  And now I have it, for all eternity in print.  And when I feel like I am unworthy of someone, or have a situation like what happened recently happen again (which I hope it never does!), I can come here and see how much I really do have and how blessed I am.

You Rool

It takes a long time to be the person you want to be.  At least I found that to be true in my case.  At 45, on the fast track to 46 and thus, closer to 50 than to 40 (OMG), I have gotten to a point in my life where I very much like me.  When that question comes up "would you want to be friends with you?" my answer is fuck yes!  I would definitely want to be friends with me, if I weren't me.

I'm not perfect, nor is my life.  I get cranky and irritable.  I have a quick temper.  I have very little patience for stupidity.  I could stand to lose some weight (ok, more than some).  I'm almost always close to broke.  I cry a lot and very easily (Italian trait, my mom's the same way and so was my Grandma).  I curse like a sailor.  But on the other hand, I would never turn my back on a friend.  I will always take your call or text, or answer your email.  I will be the most supportive person for you in any of your endeavors.  While I may not always agree with you, I will never judge you for what you believe or feel.  I will listen when you need it, help or give advice when wanted.  I will always give of myself.  It's the best I can do and hopefully it's enough.  Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.  I will always be honest with you.  Besides those things, you'll always hear great music when you're with me.  You'll never be bored when eating with me.  I love to laugh.  I'm bawdy, in the best possible way.  And loyal to the core.

"The most I can do for my friend is simply 

to be his friend. I have no wealth to bestow 

on him. If he knows that I am happy in loving 

him, he will want no other reward. Is not 

friendship divine in this?"

Henry David Thoreau

And still, given all that, sometimes it does end up not being enough.  It's a hard realization to come to when it isn't.  I think I've changed a lot over the past four years.  Hell I've changed a lot over the past two years.  For the better, maybe for the worse in some eyes.  I think I'm a lot more open now, about a lot of things, but especially sexuality.  I suspect some find that off putting.  But the way I see it, when you discover something great, you just want to shout it from the rooftops.  Well, wait... that didn't come out quite right.  I'm not saying I never knew great sex before.  I'm saying by letting go of hang ups that are driven into your brain when you grow up Catholic or repressed or whatever it is, a new world opens up.  It took me until about the age of 41 or 42 to really appreciate myself as a sexual being and let go of those hang ups.  And another two years to articulate them.  And I have no intentions of going backwards.  Maybe that is too open for some in "some things are better left unsaid" kind of way.  But to that I say, respect my differences from you as I respect your differences from me.  After all isn't that what makes the world go round.

But it's not just that.  Some bad experiences have taught me a lot.  Sometimes no matter how much you give of yourself, it will never be enough for some people or they just want more.  And they want more on their terms.  How can that be?  Perhaps there are just some people who believe you should react or act how they would in any given situation.  And that is a pretty unrealistic expectation.  But I've learned I can't be anyone else but me in any given situation.  When a dilemma comes up I react how I'm going to react, I don't think "how would XX react to this" and then act accordingly.  That's just stupid.  I am, if nothing else, always true to me, lumps and all.

Where on the pile of good discoveries or bad discoveries does this one go?  I wear my heart on my sleeve.  When I care about you, you know it.  When I love you, you know it.  Is that good or bad?  Maybe it's both.  On the one hand, people need to know they are loved and cared about.  On the other, the people who don't have the best of intentions can take advantage of that love.  And that's when it becomes a bad thing that causes a deep hurt.  I've been hurt because of it.  In the past and recently.  And yet, I wouldn't change it.  It's part of what makes me, me.  You have to love yourself, no matter what, or how do you expect anyone else to love you.

I've run the gamut of emotions over the past two weeks and my conclusion to it all is, I have no regrets.  I gave my heart to someone I thought gave me theirs back.  I opened myself up and in return, I mostly got a lot back.  I was going to say I wouldn't change a thing but I would change the pain it caused me.  I don't know where we go from here.  Maybe nowhere, maybe somewhere.  I do know that I will never regret loving someone. Ever.  No matter how much it ends up hurting in the end.

Wonder

Over the past couple of weeks I haven't had much to say. It's a first I assure you.  I know I'm not done telling you my goofy stories.  I know there are things going on my life I'd like to write about.  So why can't I just sit down and do it?  I don't know.  Have I completely lost my mojo?  My ability to express myself?  My humor?  My bawdiness?  Nah.  I'm just in a rut because nothing really good has happened lately.  The man is still out of work. Six months now.  My business is slow, very slow.  Things kind of blow right now and I'm tired.  Really really tired. A lot.

But I have a fantasy world that I escape to.  Where money isn't a concern, it's just there when needed.   In fact, in my fantasy world I never think of money at all.  I can spend it if needed or not.  I can shop or not.  I can go out to eat or cook for myself.  It's a happy place, my fantasy world, where I'm thin and happy.  When I'm there I think about sex.  A lot of sex, which I guess makes it a lot like my real world in that way.  But my fantasy world takes me to a place where all I have to think about is happiness and pleasure and none of the day to day drudgery that I seem to be facing lately.  It sounds like a pretty great place to go.  And he's there. The one I dream about.  The one who dreams about me. And we're living, loving and fucking.  It's an amazing dream that gives me moments of happiness hope when so often lately I feel hopeless.

I don't know where the fantasy world is but it's not Akron, Ohio.   In my dream of dreams, I don't dream of living here.  It's not that I dislike it, it's that it's not a place I feel I belong.  At times I think I'm destined for greatness.  And whether or not that sounds egotistical, is not a concern to me.  Greatness doesn't come from Akron, unless you're Chrissie Hynde or Lebron James.  Do I have a destiny really?  Or do I have delusions of grandeur.  At 45 years old, is this my mid-life crisis?  A crisis where I'm just sick of my life and want to leave it all behind and start over?  Can't I just be like a guy and buy a fucking motorcycle and be done with it? Why the introspection? Why the feelings of utter failure? Where do I go from here?

I have no doubt that I am loved by the people in my life. And yet, there's always something missing.  Something that is just out of my reach.  Something I want to achieve.  Somewhere I want to be.  And it aches deep inside that I cannot get to it.  I don't know where to go to find it.  I don't know how to make it happen.  And I feel helpless and weak.   I feel failure.  I feel like I'll never know what it is and wonder.  Wonder what it could be that I'm missing.  Will I always wonder?

The Birth of Lalia

I'm finding myself in a strange position.  It's a path I've been on for several years.  A path of self discovery.  A path it took me too long to start on.  Now at half past 45 years old, I'm finding out more and more things about myself and it's interesting, kind of exciting, sort of fun and a little scary.

I've been writing with the vague idea that I'm kind of good at it, for about 14 years.  Until I started a food blog in 2007, I mainly wrote about the soap opera All My Children, which I also have a website for.  Three blogs.  I must be nuts!  The AMC stuff was mostly a snarky recap of the weeks shows.  It was fun, but time consuming and I ended up scaling way back on doing that until I stopped completely and turned my website into a blog.  Now I'll snark it up every once in awhile but I've mostly been focusing my writing here.  And I love it.  I'm proud of it.  It's all me and mostly no holds barred.  A girl has to keep some secrets all to herself.

But it's me with a different name.  I'm me but not me.  I had to become someone else in order to be myself.  I kind of hate that.  It's hard enough just being me but  I did this because I didn't want anyone in my family mainly, to be hurt by the things I write about, or embarrassed by what I say.  It's not about caring about what others think.  Trust me, if you saw me in person you would know I don't give a shit about what people think.  You can't look like this and have that concern.  I'm not embarrassed by anything I have said here.  But I know several who would be mortified.

I continue to grow, evolve and discover things about myself.  Sometimes I do that through writing, sometimes it just happens.  For instance, I discovered about four years ago that I'm an extremely sexual being.  Is it weird to say I didn't know that before?  I guess that's not entirely true, but my desires waxed and waned.  Now it's constant.  Constant is better.  I don't tire of exploring this side of myself at all.  How did I discover it?  It's kind of crazy, but I decided to go off the birth control pill.  The minute those hormones were out of my system, my own went crazy.  And I have been enjoying the ride ever since.

It's more than that though, way more.  I'm finding out that I want things I never knew I wanted.  That even though I wasn't looking for something, it found me and I have no control over how my feelings react.  That even though I thought I was happy and content, that I now feel like I'm missing something.  There's a part of me unfinished.  But I guess that's true of everyone.  We're all a work in progress.  Maybe one day I can be all me, out in the open and let the chips fall where they may.   For now I'll just keep on keeping on and hope I keep making new discoveries about this crazy chick.