Home Stretch

Here we are two days in. Into December, that is- the home stretch of 2008. Suddenly we are reminded of those New Years resolutions set way back in January. What were they? Simplify life. Have a plan by fall. Ummm, I think that is all I could muster up at the time (http://wandrwoman.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-super-new-year.html) and even that was pretty undoable as it turns out. Well, if by 'simpler life' I meant work less and have less, I guess I have accomplished that much. And if by 'have a plan by fall' I meant come up with an outline of a variety of possibilities, then, okay, I've got that covered too. Can't totally beat myself up, now can I?

Besides entering the month of holiday hub bub, which I could simply do without, we're also entering the month of too much spending, family stress, overbooked social calendars, head colds, and an overload on Christmas music, Christmas related foods and Christmas decorations. I know I know, I sound like Eb Scrooge. I'm not really a Scrooge (well, maybe a tiny bit), but I just think so much of the season is lost on us as human beings during this month. I witnessed one interviewee tell a news reporter that things are so tight this year she is going to have to reduce the gift to her sister from $200 to $100. Okay, 'Sister McCain,' get a grip. I realize everybody has different spending habits, different incomes and different expectations, but wow. No offense, Friends and Family, but I'm not sure even if I had the money, I'd spend $200 on each of you. Sorry, not a Scrooge, just reasonable.

I so enjoyed the holidays when I lived abroad. For one thing, I never heard the phrase "Happy Holidays" until about three days before Christmas. Although there were holiday decorations sparkling throughout the major cities' squares, people put their Christmas trees up a few days before Christmas, not four weeks prior. Our trees are practically dead by the time Christmas rolls around. "Johnny, don't bump the tree or the needles will drop!" Hell, the needles will drop if you just walk past it too quickly.

Although the Christmas frenzy and commercialism give me a bit of angst, there are a few holiday traditions I do actually enjoy and embrace. Last Sunday some friends invited me to join them for the "Festival of Trees" at the Fairmont Hotel and the Gingerbread House Exhibit at the Sheraton. These are free exhibits open to the public and truly amazing and inspirational.

I also enjoy homemade Christmas cookies...a lot. Not a lot of cookies, I just enjoy them immensely. And most of all, I love the classic holiday movies "White Christmas," "Gift of the Magi," "It's a Wonderful Life, "Home for the Holidays," and, of course, "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."

So even though this Grinchy Scrooge is flying away for the holidays to avoid the whole routine, she does have a special place in her heart for the Space Needle all lit up-a beautiful scene!

On the Road Again

I spent the last three days driving a woman's car from Seattle to Denver. She's relocating to Vale, CO but didn't want to drive there, so she hired me to transport her car. Being the somewhat adventurous woman that I am, I figured it'd be a bit of a gas. I'd see some parts of the country I hadn't seen before and it'd be an interesting experience. I didn't plan how many miles I'd drive each day exactly, or where I'd stay each night. I barely plan my life, why would I plan a three day car trip. I knew I needed to be at the Denver airport at 11.00 a.m. on Friday. What more did I need to plan?

Somewhere between Pendelton, OR and Ogdan, UT I began to realize there was a reason I hadn't been to this neck of the woods til now. After half a day driving through the desolate sage brush country of Eastern Washington, I landed in Pendelton ready for a comfortable bed, a hot meal and some exploration. It was nearing on 7.00 when I rode into town and the entire place was buttoned up tight as a drum by then. I found a cheap, yet comfortable motel, "America's Best Value Inn," and wandered out to find that hot meal. After a satisfying Mexican meal I asked the waitress if there was a grocery or drug store nearby I could walk to. She explained that her town only had a Safeway and a Walmart and they were both very far. I could not walk there. I decided to take a meander around myself. I needed the exercise after all day driving and the Mexican food needed a chance to settle. It wasn't all that far before I ran into an Albertson's.

The next day I headed out in good weather toward La Grande, pronouncing it in my head with a Mexican accent, trilling the 'r' a bit and emphasising the 'e'. I hit some serious fog going over "Dead Man's Pass". The truckers and I were creeping along gripping the steering wheel. Well, I was gripping mine, I can't speak for the experienced truckers. I caught a glimpse of a sign that read "View Point" and had a tinge of annoyance. Sure, I finally come across something worth viewing and I can't even see the hood of my car. The creeping went on for what seemed like hours, but it was probably only about 45 minutes or so. When we get out of the fog and back into daylight, I drive into La Grande for refueling and a latte. I'm actually in search of a Starbucks which I find a bit humorous considering the size of these towns. Unlike good 'ol Seattle with a Starbucks, Tully's or Seattle's Best on every corner, the rest of the country pretty much serves coffee from a pot that's been on the burner far too long.

While entering the town, I switch the radio station to an audible one and hear the announcer talking about La Grande and he's pronouncing it like, well...a hill billy. La Grand- with a real emphasize on the AND. I laugh a little at my assumption of how the town would be called. And I laugh a little more when I find a Starbucks. Yes, inside the Safeway store. Yea! Pumpkin Spice Latte and hit the road.

Approximately five hundred miles of brown sage brush and rolling lifeless hills of McCain Country later, I land in Ogdan, UT. For some reason I had the idea this would be an actual town. It was a suburb at best with a couple of four lane roads lined with fast food joints and chain restaurants. My slumber choices were Motel 6 or The Royal Inn. Believe it or not the Motel 6 looked the least seedy. I was starving by now and wanted a hot sit down meal before crashing for the night. Clearly there was to be no nightlife or exploration in this town. My sit down dining choices consisted of Chili's or Applebee's. I flipped a mental coin and chose Applebee's. I'd never actually eaten at either. It was about how I'd expected. Dark green carpet, chairs with wheels on them, those hanging stained glass lamps over every table and a lot of poor food choices. I ordered off the "Weight Watcher's" menu and had a grilled chicken, roasted potatoes and broccoli. It was hot and filled me up. Except for the satisfying part, mission accomplished.

I then headed on to my Motel 6 experience. The last time I stayed at a Motel 6 I think I was about 18 when I snuck off with my boyfriend. Not much has changed except the price. Instead of $13.99 the room rate was $43.99 plus tax. I paid the extra $2.99 for internet, but then it didn't work, so got a refund. Upon taking stock of the room, I realized what I got at the "Value Inn" for an extra $20.00- shampoo, conditioner, body lotion, coffee, microwave, refrigerator, king sized bed, hair dryer, and internet connection. It was my feeling that Motel 6 prided themselves on a clean sparse environment for which to sleep, shower and leave promptly in the a.m. No problem since that was my plan anyway. I actually slept quite well. But then after 9 hours in the car anyone should sleep well.

Next day consisted of 8-9 hours of ...you guessed it, more sage brush, more brown fields of nothing as far as the eye could see. By now I'm hoping my 'employer' doesn't have an Obama sticker on the back bumper or I'm going to get shot for sure. I'm starting to get a bit rummy by this point. Other than my one proper meal per day at dinner time, I've been sustaining on a diet of car snacks: cheese and crackers, trail mix, a couple of apples and some supposedly healthy fruit snack moms guiltlessly feed their children that are really nothing more than candy. I've listened to more country music and Christian stations than I ever knew existed. I think we might have one of each in Seattle. I heard young country, fresh country, old country, best country. It was getting to the point where I actually knew the words to some of the songs by this point and was singing along. I was also making up stories about my fellow drivers. Each day you'd get into a clump and drive with the same people all day long. I'd pass Ms. Florida, then stop at a rest stop, get back on the freeway and Ms. Florida would soon pass me. It would go on like this all day. Where is Ms. Florida headed? She has a mattress in the backseat. Is she moving back to Florida? Oh, there goes Mr. and Mrs. Utah for the third time today. They are going east. For Thanksgiving maybe? See the grand kids? Then, of course, there are the truckers hauling who knows what in those trailers. More stories to invent. Oh, here's my favorite country song, yet again.

I arrived in Golden, outside of Denver Thursday night and stayed at my cousin's house before meeting my car's owner at the airport in the a.m. It was a good drive. The roads were clear, the weather optimal and I got here safely. Would I do it again? You betcha.

Forget Paris

And Prague, Amsterdam, Lisbon, Athens. I don't actually need to forget Paris, or any of my other favorite travel destinations, but I need to find another way to remember them.

I seem to have lost track of time. I'll be telling a story of my six month sabbatical when I traipsed off to Europe after my divorce in 2002. The six months that turned into three plus years. Someone will ask me "when did you return to Seattle?" Ummm, errr, eh hem...two and a half years ago. Two and a half years ago? Already? How did that happen? It seems like only yesterday (or maybe a year ago) I landed back in Seattle, set up a "temporary" apartment where minimal wall hangings have been hung, and told friends and family I'd be out of this city in six months. Bags would be packed and I'd be off to explore new territories, delving into another adventure. Or at the very least, setting up camp in a new city.

I'm reminded daily of my past European days and how long ago they actually were. The pajama bottoms I bought in Prague in a very cold 2002 winter are beginning to fray around the waistband. These flannels got me through some horrifically cold nights abroad. My well loved bikini from the Greek Island of Skiathos purchased the summer of 2003 has faded from its vibrant royal to a dull sea soaked drab, blotchy, bluish tone. The funky stylish shoes I bought in Amsterdam for New Years Eve 2004 have walked equal distance from the Netherlands to Seattle. I'm still wearing them, but they really should retire. To be honest, I'll probably squeak one more season out of them, though. The red Haviannas (Lisbon, Spring 2004) are still some of the most comfortable flip flops in my collection - and I do have quite the collection. However, they are beginning to show some serious signs of wear and tear. The lining of the winter coat bought in Turkey November 2005 has long since torn and I've lost my keys or other precious objects through the holes in the pockets more times than I can count. The zipper finally broke altogether last season and I was forced to bid it a farewell.

And my most coveted item, the jean jacket given to me in Prague by my favorite travel buddy the spring of 2003, is held together by mere threads. The pockets boast flag pins of the places I lived during that wonderful and memorable period of my life. I can't wash the jacket or it will disintegrate completely. However, if I wear it any longer, my Seattle friends will pick it off my body like a vulture picking at a weak crow. I'm sure they can hardly stand to see me donning that garment at this stage. I try not to wear it, but sometimes it's the only thing that seems to suit my mood. The fabric is so soft at this point, the comfort is warming and the memories it brings are soothing.

I guess it's time to bid ado to many of these old European garments and look ahead to the future. It's okay to keep the stories of my life abroad, tell a tale or two now and then when appropriate. But clinging to the scraps of threadbare fabric can't be healthy for a woman trying to move into the next phase of her wonderful life and stop re-living the last episode via her clothes.

Plenty Off Ish

As much as there has been a certain amount of synergy happening in my life, it hasn't been in the area of romance, that's for sure.

I had my first date with a guy from Plenty of Fish (a.k.a. Plenty Off Ish) last night. This guy contacted me first. Then he suggested we meet. This was about a month ago. Due to a variety of circumstances we haven't been able to actually hook up since our first interaction on the internet.

Last night at nearly Five Oh Oh, I get a text message...yeah a text message...asking if I'd like to join him for dinner. I didn't actually see the message until a little after five and I didn't reply right away. I had to hem and haw and stew about it for a few moments. 1. a text message? 2. at five o'clock in the evening? 3. a last minute invitation for dinner? 4. how soon can I be ready? I was sort of in the middle of something 5. I was planning to go to yoga. Do I want to forfeit my yoga? 6. OK, we've been trying to meet, let's just go with this and be spontaneous!

So I call him back, not text. He doesn't answer. I leave a voice message. He calls me back and asks me where would be good for dinner. He asks me to dinner and then doesn't have anything in mind? I get really tired of always having to do the work when it comes to dating.

We were discussing a good meeting spot when I almost said "wherever is convenient for you" and stopped myself short. No, no, no. There I go being all accommodating. I'm the one without a car. He asked me. Let him come to me. And he did come to my neighborhood. I suggested a variety of restaurants, he picked one and we met there. Perfect.

The man was pleasant enough. Isn't that just how you'd want a date to describe you, "pleasant enough?" At the end of the meal (which he paid for), he asked if I wanted to go for a coffee, so we did. He nodded to his car parked across the street obviously making a point to work it into the conversation somehow. I glanced over and said it was nice. However, honestly, I had no idea what it was, but it did look nice. I was looking at it from the side and had no clue of the make or model. I'm not into cars anymore. I used to be years ago. Now I don't even own a car, so I'm really not into them. If they have wheels and an engine, I think they're fantastic. So I fessed up and asked him what it was. He laughed at me and told me it was a Mercedes. He also said it was a very rare model. So I committed the ultimate faux pas by not knowing what the car was and failing to show just how impressed I was. I forgot about men and their cars. Oh well. I think by that point, we knew we were not a match anyway. Yup, that's dating. I'll keep at it.

The Day After

There's nothing left to say. It's all been said. It's all been filmed, photographed, recorded and U-Tubed.

All I can add at this point is a big 'ol "Whoooo Hoooo!"

Serendipity, Synchronicity, Serenity Now!

Lately my life has taken on a state of synchronization. I began my life coaching seminar with Landmark Education a few weeks ago. The first session was all about "getting in the game." The Sunday following that session, I attended church at the invitation of an old friend I recently reconnected with. The topic of the sermon was also all about getting in the game. Huh. That's curious, I thought.

The next week the Landmark session focused more on 'creating possibilities' for ourselves. I went to church with my friend again the following Sunday and what do you suppose was the topic of the day's sermon? Absolutely. Creating dreams, setting goals and going for them in life.

By now I'm wondering if the preachers are somehow affiliated with the Landmark Education organization?

I've also been re-reading The Secret, which focuses on creating the life you want. Again, a reiteration of the Landmark Education mission.

AND I was already in the process of applying for grad school at Seattle Pacific University (a Christian university) when my friend invited me to her church, a church that seems to genuinely resonate with me. No, I'm not a member yet...I'm just being open and checking it out. Trying it on...seeing if this is for me or not.

As if that isn't enough serendipity to make me aware of what might be going on here, it turns out that the friend I've been going to church with, has the same business idea as I've been discussing with several people the last few weeks. A discussion of our dreams over coffee Sunday evening revealed we are a match! We are exploring a partnership. Yea for us. Now for the serenity of feeling like I know where I'm headed...or, the chaos of starting up something new, yet again.

The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

Halloween is such a great holiday. A day to dress ourselves up in our alter-egos. No one else can really convince you of a costume you should wear. It has to resonate with you somehow. Someone will say "hey, you should be a (fill-in here)" and even if it's a great idea for someone, it may not be a great idea for you. The costume has to speak to you.

The Halloween pre-func is some of the best part of the whole night. I went to my friend's house where we had dinner, drank wine and passed out candy to trick or treaters, while we helped each other into our getups before heading out to the parties. I opted for the Sugar Plum Fairy and my pal was a jilted murdered bride back from the grave. Her makeup consisted of the ghoulish sort while mine was glitter and sparkles. We were definitely the odd couple.

The number one costume this season was Sarah Palin and we ran across a few. The best one was the host of our first party. His interpretation was quite humorous given his size 14 shoes. Another fellow was John McCain with a Sarah blow up doll strapped on in classic BJ form. Disgusting? Sure. Creative and funny? Absolutely.

Our second stop was a bit quieter. It was nearly 1.00 by then so maybe it was slowing down. We didn't stay long before heading out to party #3 where there was a live band, dancing in the living room and a lively crowd.

All the usual suspects were out, pirate, astronaut, Elvis, skeleton, Santa Claus, Kermit and Miss Piggy, cowgirls and goblins. One thing I realized, Halloween is not a good man meeting holiday. Everyone is so into character you really have no idea who you're talking to. But it was a fun night, we partied til the cows came home. Or, until we came home anyway. Didn't actually see any cows come to think of it.

The Eleventh Hour Costume Crunch

Here it is, once again, Halloween. Five-oh-oh, and I still don't have my custome ready. So typical. When I was a little girl (okay, I'm still a little girl at heart. Aren't' we all?) my mother used to make me a homemade costume every year. I generally went for the frilly girly costumes, i.e. princess, ballerina, Little Red Ridding Hood, fairy Godmother, the usual costumes that require tiara, tutu and colors like pink or red. Not a lot has changed since I was five. Except my mother isn't around to make my costumes for me anymore. How great would that be?

I was invited to go to a party with a friend and, luckily, this friend has an amazing costume closet full of great costumes and accessories to inspire and get the creative juices flowing. I came home with three possible ideas, spent some time at Champions and now I've got to get busy and put something together.

I've got an "I Dream of Jeannie" costume that is really cute, but exposes far too much skin. If I wore this getup, I'd need a full nude colored body stocking to go underneath. Not only because I'm not exactly comfortable with my own skin showing, but it's a little too chilly for that here in the Pacific Northwest. Also, a dude wore the costume last year and I hardly think I could follow his act. But I'm going to slip into it again and see how I feel. It's pretty cute. Actually, it's sexy, but I can't really pull off sexy, so it looks more on the cute side.

My next option is a sexy/elegant witch outfit. It includes a long slinky black dress that requires some serious body shaping undergarment, which I happen to own and have never actually had the cause to wear. However, if I wear this costume, I won't be able to eat or drink all night as I'm attempting to keep from busting the seams. That doesn't sound very festive...or sexy as my face is taking on a look of excruciating pain from sucking in my gut all night.

My final option is a purple fairy-like character with those great fairy wings, wand and purple everything, from wig to pleather pants. Oh, I forgot to pick up some fairy dust.

Okay, off I go to see what I can make from all of these bits. Maybe a witchy fairy with Jeannie's pants. Hmm... that could be interesting...and a bit scary.

Happy Halloween!

Present in the Moment

I seem to be living in a perpetual state of optimism lately. Maybe it's this incredible Autumn I've been going on about. Fabulous weather and I'm unemployed so I can fully enjoy daily walks in the parks and gardens around the city. It doesn't get any better. Unless money grew on these trees I'm walking past. That would make it better I suppose. I seem to be completely forgetting that I am, in fact, unemployed. Or "underemployed" rather. I am picking up various temp jobs here and there and doing quite a bit of pet sitting. Those things are keeping my rent paid at least. But I actually need to come up with a more lucrative plan for my life. Every day I'm researching ideas, working at something or another, and enjoying the moment so much, I can't even really stress about the economy or my own depleting bank account. Somehow I think it'll all work out. How? I don't know. It's a mystery. But I'm sure it will.

Last week I filled in for the receptionist at my sister-in-law's office which was actually quite pleasant. After a couple of days, the staff was joking about hiring me permanently. If only being a receptionist at a law office was my life's ambition, my life would be so much simpler. I appreciated the opportunity, regardless, and will work for them again any time they ask.

Two weeks ago a friend invited me to "Women's Day" at her church. Hmmm...that sounded appealing. A day of women gathering, singing some jazzy uplifting songs and listening to some spiritual sermons about women's issues in today's world, and go out to brunch afterwards. Yeah, why not? I attended and it was all I had expected and more. I left inspired and energized.

Being raised Catholic, I can't say I ever left mass feeling "inspired." Once an adult I basically ceased practicing Catholicism altogether. I'd drop in occasionally over the years and leave resigned that church just wasn't for me, although I always felt I was a spiritual person. I'd visited other types of churches over the years to check them out, but none ever resonated with me. So I just continued to practice my own spirituality in the privacy of my home in my own way. Okay, I realize that makes me sound like I'm practicing witchcraft or voodoo.

Last week I attended my friend's church again. I wanted to experience a 'regular' church day. Was the special Women's Day from the prior week just a one off experience, or was this status quo? Was regular church a drag? Full of pushy religious folks cramming their guilt ridden sinner talk down your throat? No, actually it was not. Again, there were the jazzy uplifting songs lead by some pretty talented and passionate vocalists (if nothing else, the entertainment was exceptional), a timely sermon regarding current events, politics and global issues delivered with a sense of humor, followed up with brunch. At brunch we women continued to discuss the issues brought up during the service and give our input and thoughts continuing the dialog. Again, I returned home feeling enlightened, as well as experiencing a feeling of synchronicity in my life. This I will touch on in future posts. But I sense some things are beginning to pull together for me. Slowly slowly.

I don't even care about "Final Quarter" anymore. I went out with a friend last Friday to listen to a band at Conner Byrnes in Ballard. It was only minutes before we were surrounded by a group of men. While we had a nice time chatting and flirting with them, at 1.50 a.m. I ran to catch the last bus home and my friend also went home alone. The next day she phoned me and we talked about how we really could have gone home with any one of those guys if we had wanted. They were clearly interested, but as it turned out, it wasn't what either of us was after- "final quarter" or not. For us, just having an engaging conversation with some interesting men was enough.

Whatever the cause of my current optimism, I'm going along with it. Between my Landmark Education Seminar, some books I'm reading, these glorious Autumn days, daily exercise and, yes, possibly church, I'm feeling pretty content...for the moment.

Final Quarter 2008

It's been FOUR months. Oh you know what I'm talking about. Umm-hmm- four months since....well...woopie. Yeah, I'm starting to get irritable, developing a nervous tick and my vibrator battery is wearing out. No prospects in the pipeline either.



Last month my brother from California was on a motorcycle tour through the Pacific Northwest and blew into town. We met for lunch and he had a Kiwi from New Zealand in tow. Nice touch. They had intended to have a visit over lunch and jet out to meet up with the rest of their group in Longview. Lunch turned into a mini city tour, which then led to a couple of pitchers of beer. Finally, they needed to either head out to meet their group or give in, continue drinking and stay the night at mine. Once they learned of the bar's pending Karaoke night soon to start, there was no question. My brother claimed he wasn't much into Karaoke until he was properly lubricated. At which time (approximately four beers) you couldn't pry the mic from his paws. So I offered up my sofa and sleeping bag for the two of them if they wanted to crash.



It was a fun night of singing...eh hem...er, wailing into the mic at top decibel and making proper fools of ourselves, dancing and- um- a bit-o-smooching. I'm not sure if the Kiwi was exactly my type or if it was just the four-months-sans-sex looming in that dialog bubble over my drunken head that made me a little, shall we say, frisky.



Back at the ranch at three a.m., I tucked my brother and his friend into their sacks and I proceeded to hit the hay in my own comfy down filled bed. Suddenly in the middle of my passed out state I felt someone giving me pecks on the lips as the Kiwi slithered into my room-- doon doon do- chaka chuck coo (hear Yello's "Oh Yeah" from Secret of My Success here). Yikes- a sexual opportunity I couldn't exactly buy into! My brother was in the next room. Adjoining walls. THIN adjoining walls in a very old apartment. Naw...I just couldn't. Oh, we slept together...but nothing much happened. It was too awkward. And possibly unfortunate. As I look back on the situation later, sober. I wonder, "Was that it? Was that my last chance for sex (safe, nice man sex) for 2008?" It's a valid question (concern). We're now well into fourth quarter.

People are obsessed with the state of the economy and I just don't understand. Economy? How can I possibly worry about the economy when my sexual activity portfolio is looking so grim? We're certain to snap out of this poor economic state. History has proven there will be a turn around. I'm confident my economic portfolio will bounce back. However, my body isn't going to just bounce back. Each day my boobs move south another smidgen, I develop another wrinkle and I realize another saggy this or droopy that. It ain't good. I know the economy will take some time to recover. I just hope my sex life sees improvement while I still enjoy getting naked.

I know I'm not alone here. No one has much sympathy for my drought. In talking with my friends, there is an inordinate number of single, very sexual, over 40 year old women in this town not getting laid on a regular basis. No wonder this city has a reputation of having the highest suicide rate.