So….
I used to be an avid (and highly addicted) “blog” writer. I had many readers. Most were friends, some were people I hardly new.
The audience didn’t matter honestly. The free therapy it provided however, now that’s a different story…
I recently spoke to an old friend online the other night, who asked, practically begged, me to start “blogging” again. He lives out of state. We haven’t seen each other since high school. And that my friends, is a long time. But wait, I’m aging myself…
I digress…
There was a time (back when MySpace was the happening social network) that I wouldn’t go even a week without blogging. And now, I haven’t written anything informative (or even remotely entertaining) in months. I miss my therapy, and some people miss living vicariously through me. For whatever strange reason.
And so, I will pick up my proverbial pen and paper, and begin again…
Completely at random, as always…
Hercules is stable. Doing as well as possible, given his condition. For updates on him, please stay tuned to my website… http://www.fitzlanedanes.com.
Dawson goes in for surgery for his hernia this Tuesday. I am completely freaked out about it. My baby, going under. Scares the shit out of me.
As you already knew via my status updates and photos, my first baby turned 15 this month. I honestly can’t believe it. Not only does it make me feel old, but it makes me quite nostalgic as well. “I remember the day”… and so on. For mentioning… I see babies at the bank. It makes me want one. Then I quickly recover. I’m too old to procreate now anyway.
I am tired. I work too much. 6 days a week, two days each week spent working two jobs. There, I’m done whining. Ok, maybe not… Seriously though.. Who lives like this?? Gah.
I do. I live like this.
And once in a while, I’ll pull down onto my private road (literally, as I own the road), look at my gorgeous house, huge yard, and industrial size garage and say to myself… I live this way. And this is why.
Then again, there are days that I’d gladly trade my 60 hours a week and beautiful house for 30 hours a week and a dumpy rental flat.
Oh, and I’m lonely. Shocker, right? How can one person be so busy, yet still be lonely? Well, I’m living proof that it’s possible.
Enough of that.
Ok, maybe not… I need to go off on a tangent for just one minute, ok?
I’ve been single now for 7 months. Most people would say- oh wow, big deal.. But for me, in my life’s experience, that is a long time.
As “independent” and “strong” as my friends may call me, I have always relied heavily upon that other person in life. I’ve been alone in small spurts over the years, but never for very long.
The long and short of it is, I enjoy being partnered.
I’m not a happy single person.
And I’ve seen them. They exist. They go out, have hobbies, do stuff, work hard… with no attachments. And they‘re not only accepting of that, but perfectly happy with it. And I wonder.. Why can’t I be like that? How do I become like that?
I used to be an avid (and highly addicted) “blog” writer. I had many readers. Most were friends, some were people I hardly new.
The audience didn’t matter honestly. The free therapy it provided however, now that’s a different story…
I recently spoke to an old friend online the other night, who asked, practically begged, me to start “blogging” again. He lives out of state. We haven’t seen each other since high school. And that my friends, is a long time. But wait, I’m aging myself…
I digress…
There was a time (back when MySpace was the happening social network) that I wouldn’t go even a week without blogging. And now, I haven’t written anything informative (or even remotely entertaining) in months. I miss my therapy, and some people miss living vicariously through me. For whatever strange reason.
And so, I will pick up my proverbial pen and paper, and begin again…
Completely at random, as always…
Hercules is stable. Doing as well as possible, given his condition. For updates on him, please stay tuned to my website… http://www.fitzlanedanes.com.
Dawson goes in for surgery for his hernia this Tuesday. I am completely freaked out about it. My baby, going under. Scares the shit out of me.
As you already knew via my status updates and photos, my first baby turned 15 this month. I honestly can’t believe it. Not only does it make me feel old, but it makes me quite nostalgic as well. “I remember the day”… and so on. For mentioning… I see babies at the bank. It makes me want one. Then I quickly recover. I’m too old to procreate now anyway.
I am tired. I work too much. 6 days a week, two days each week spent working two jobs. There, I’m done whining. Ok, maybe not… Seriously though.. Who lives like this?? Gah.
I do. I live like this.
And once in a while, I’ll pull down onto my private road (literally, as I own the road), look at my gorgeous house, huge yard, and industrial size garage and say to myself… I live this way. And this is why.
Then again, there are days that I’d gladly trade my 60 hours a week and beautiful house for 30 hours a week and a dumpy rental flat.
Oh, and I’m lonely. Shocker, right? How can one person be so busy, yet still be lonely? Well, I’m living proof that it’s possible.
Enough of that.
Ok, maybe not… I need to go off on a tangent for just one minute, ok?
I’ve been single now for 7 months. Most people would say- oh wow, big deal.. But for me, in my life’s experience, that is a long time.
As “independent” and “strong” as my friends may call me, I have always relied heavily upon that other person in life. I’ve been alone in small spurts over the years, but never for very long.
The long and short of it is, I enjoy being partnered.
I’m not a happy single person.
And I’ve seen them. They exist. They go out, have hobbies, do stuff, work hard… with no attachments. And they‘re not only accepting of that, but perfectly happy with it. And I wonder.. Why can’t I be like that? How do I become like that?
Ah, it’s a rhetorical question. I’ll never be like that.
I don’t think I ask too much.
Fix the leaky faucet.
Hold my hand in the car.
Talk to me (somewhere between dinner, homework, housework, and jobs).
Watch a movie. Or the Celtics.
Sit by the fire with me after the kids go to bed.
Fall asleep on the couch with me.
Touch my arm while walking past me in the kitchen….
Ok, that’s enough serious crap for one night.
Back to the rock-n-roll, laundry, and Coors Light.