Money, Power, Disrespect

As you are all well aware, I adore my mother and often find myself engage in spirited debates about current events with her. Our most recent squabble had to do with the Bill Cosby mess that will not leave the headlines. I'm sure you're aware of at least the basic details; that he's accused of drugging and raping women over the decades, that his wife is firmly standing by him and accusing the women of being liars out to ruin her husband's reputation, that many people are still defending him, despite overwhelming evidence of guilt. The whole thing has been seen as tarnishing a legendary legacy, but it's a legacy that really should have never existed if the allegations are true. And I'm inclined to believe that they are. Where there is smoke, there is fire. In this case it's more like, where there's so much smoke that you can't breathe, there's probably an inferno. Whether Cosby drugged and raped five women or fifteen women, he is a serial rapist who got away with it because...well, why did he get away with it, exactly? How did no one press charges? That's the mind boggling thing. And that lies at the heart of my debate with the Mother Ship. She agrees he's guilty as sin, but feels that some of the women who have come forward as alleged victims were not actually victims and are just jumping on the bandwagon, thus making a bad situation look even worse. She's curious as to how no one went after him via the legal system, especially since some had exchanged stories eons ago and had to have known he would keep doing it. The way she views it, the women who were not attacked and are just trying to gain publicity are no better than Cosby.
While I see my mother's point, and I also question if everyone coming forward was a victim or if they have other motivations for speaking up, I don't see it as such a black and white issue. Sexual assault is one of the worst things you can do to a person and, much like how someone grieves after a death, I don't think you can judge someone's psyche or gauge whether they're telling the truth or not based on how they act in the immediate aftermath. And things only get murkier when the alleged assault took place decades ago. I can believe that a number of them did not pursue charges for various reasons; the shame of the assault, not really knowing whether or not it happened, the fact that it was a beloved TV dad they'd be accusing. Money and celebrity can buy you just about anything and we all know it buys you out of a whole hell of a lot of legal issues. I can understand not wanting to take on such a machine, even if you were violated. So yes, it's entirely possible that some of these women are not being truthful, but that's for them and their consciences to deal with. I'm not going to have sympathy for the devil just because people may be jumping on the bandwagon for effect's sake. He still did what he did and, I believe, to multiple women. Also, I don't agree that all of that bandwagon hopping is making the story or the allegations worse. One rape is bad enough, but more than one is so incredibly awful and shows such an outrageous level of arrogance and disrespect. Even if only five women had come forward, it would've been an awful story. But that kind of arrogance, combined with having never been caught or even questioned about it, leads me to believe there very well could be dozens of victims. We'll never know for sure how many there are. As with any other story, there are two sides and either side could be embellishing or minimizing the facts.
Having heard some of the deposition Cosby gave regarding one of the rapes, I could not comprehend how a man with four daughters of his own could have such blatant disrespect for women in general. I have two girls, decades apart in age, and a niece on the cusp of becoming an adult and I cannot fathom ever viewing women as objects with which to do what you please. Every woman is someone's daughter, sister, niece, granddaughter or mother, and when you put things in that perspective, it's pretty disgusting to think about taking advantage of them. How do you rape women in your spare time and then even have the balls to look your wife or daughters in the eye? What if they were the victims of someone like you? A normal man would want to kill the SOB who did that to a woman he cared about. But Bill Cosby is obviously not a normal, or even halfway decent man. Nor is the understanding he and his wife seem to have had over the years about his behavior. I've seen many articles stating she's a "long-suffering" wife, or that she knew he had extracurricular activities involving sex with other women and she either permitted him to cheat, or turned a blind eye (which is basically the same thing). I don't agree with that. True, you can never 100000000% know any person, even if you've been married to them for 50 years, but you damn well know if that person is up to some shady business. I'm not saying she knew he was a rapist, but what are the odds he never brought up his penchant for wanting to sleep with women who were asleep at some point? I suppose it's possible her viewed her differently and that's why he wifed her. Again, we'll never know for sure, but I don't view her as another, albeit different type of victim of Bill Cosby. She had to have heard rumblings about it over the years. And furthermore, if a number of women have very similar stories about your husband having drugged and then raped them, and then he admits to having drugged and had sex with them, it don't take much to put two and two together.
The worst part of this recently released deposition is Cosby trying to defend the behavior by saying the women didn't tell him not to drug and rape them again, and that he picked up on non-verbal visual cues to know they wanted him to do so in the first place. That's just...there are no words for that ish. No means no and all the "non-visual cues" in the world are not consent. Some people like to take drugs and have sex and that's fine, so long as both parties are consenting. But he seems to view it like that, as if these women gave off a vibe that said they wanted to be knocked out and taken advantage of. Rape isn't about sex, it's about power. Cosby had plenty of that back in his heyday, and yet it still wasn't enough. And sadly, all the allegations and victims coming forward will not be enough to convince some people that he's a rapist. And none of it will be enough to bring him to justice for what he did. Talk about a perfect crime.

Old, But I'm Not That Old, Young, But I'm Not That Bold

It's amazing the places your mind drifts off to when you call an end to your engagement. I was a mess during my own engagement and had no business attempting to get hitched as it was, so you can imagine where my head was at when it ended. In theory, it should be no different than any other relationship break-up. But it's not really like that. You wonder what you did wrong, then you blame the other person, then you think you'll never find anyone again, then you reason why you should go back and try again with the same person. And then you get wise. Y has been going through most of these motions the last week, having very recently ended her engagement with H. The point of our trip and time together is to try to accelerate her healing, though I've already cautioned her not to move so quickly through the stages of grief that she ends up not dealing with it at all. I'd worried she was glossing over the ending as a way of avoiding the inevitable breakdown over letting it go. But last night she finally hit bottom. And all I could do was listen and comfort and tell her, "Gurl, you ain't need no man" (well, except for me obviously). And that sucks. You never want anyone you love to be in pain, and I know she has to deal with it in her own time and on her own terms. But I wish I could do more. Hopefully, this is the beginning of her working everything out though.
One of the conversations Y and I have had over the course of this trip was about being old...er, and single. Y was married in her mid-20's, and I was engaged around the same time, yet here we are a decade later both single and, one of us, mingling. I don't mind that so much, but she had a freak out moment about being, "35 and single". Mind you, she just turned 34 last month so she's not even close to 35 yet. But I guess she's assuming that'll be the case next year when she does get there. My reply to the idea of being 35 and single was, "Who cares?", which surprised her. For years, I had this big ass clock in my brain that said I had to be hitched by this time, or have kids by that time. It was annoying and it affected my romantic relationships somewhat. That clock seemed to shatter sometime in the last decade, and I'm glad it did. I don't care about age anymore or being "old" in the eyes of anyone (except my girls, I will forever loathe being called old by Miss N and the teenager). Things happen when they are meant to happen, I truly believe that. There's a reason Y became engaged, and there's a reason why it ended. The reason may not be apparent right now as she peruses the wreckage, but upon further investigation she'll realize why it had to end, and what comes next.
Y asked me if I thought this was how either of our lives would turn out. I thought that sounded a bit melodramatic, especially considering we're not doing all that terribly. We both have girls we adore, we have great friends and family, we love our work. I have to tell ya, my life is pretty damn good 90% of the time. Would I love a relationship? Yeah. But that doesn't define how happy I am. I look at it as being a nice piece of the puzzle to have, but if it's not meant to be, that's fine too. But Y wants to find her lobster and she's sad that she has yet to do so. Maybe part of that is her being a chick and me being a dude, I don't know. But I'm fairly content with where I've ended up at 34. I could've done much worse than being a single dad who gets to do what he loves for a living. And though she feels like she's made a mess of her personal life, Y could've done worse than where she is too. People act like 40 is a death sentence and we should all have our ish figured out by then, including the house and car and 2.5 kids. But that's not meant to be for everyone, and for others it takes longer than the 40 years. Everything in due time.

Phoning It In

I recently had to exchange my beloved Galaxy S5 for another, thus far not-so-beloved Galaxy S5.

Me: I love Galaxy. It should have stayed loyal to me yo.
Her: That's what you get for not treating your phone very well.
Me: 'Scuse you, I was good to Galaxy. I treated it better than I've ever treated any of my womensz. #Bazinga
Her: LMAO. You sir, are a catch.

I later relayed this convo to Crazy Aunt before my departure.

Me: I said I treated it better than I treat my women lol
Crazy Aunt: Well yeah, mijo. Of course. Because you're committed to the phone.
Me: LOL. You're right. Verizon got me on lock for another year, at least.
Crazy Aunt: I bet you could do marriage really well if it were a two year at a time commitment!
Me: Hell yeah. Well, as long as I could upgrade every two years.
Crazy Aunt: LOL. You're terrible. But hey, I've been married three times.
Me: I rest my case lol.

And then Y almost broke my new, not-so-beloved phone after a few mid-day margaritas.

Y: "Oh my god! Dude, let's get tattoos!!"
Me: "Nah, I don't wanna not be able to do anything because we have to protect the ink. We'll get them when we get home."
Y: "No, no! Come on! I wanted everyone to know you're rock hard! Wait...to know that you're my rock. Right?"
Me: "...I'm not sure if you're trying to pimp me out or just convince me to get the tattoo, but either way you have succeeded."

Long Before I'd Ever Met The Queen

When I wore a younger man's clothes, I went through a span of about a year where like four of my exes got married, had kids or did some variation of both. But I didn't have that, "Oh, man I should get my life on track, look at what they're doing" moment. I was very meh about it all. Three of the four were born to be mothers so I was happy for them, but that was about it. A year later, I became a parent myself and became one of those people who recommends having a kid because it's awesome when you get a little one like Miss N. And now, almost a decade after that first group of exes taking the parental plunge, it looks like it's time for round 2. G is now the proud mama of a son and the Youngin is due, also with a boy, later this year. There's about ten years of difference in age between these ladies, but they both seem much more prepared for parenthood than I am, and I have a 7-year-old. Things have improved considerably between the Youngin and her doctor babydaddy. He's taking some time away from work to make sure he spends time with the Youngin and the baby, and she's graduating a year early before starting her own photography business. And I'm happy it's going well, she deserves an awesome life. The same is true for G, one of my better exes and one of those people who you just wanna see have the happiest of endings. We don't really speak anymore, but it's not like I would ignore her call if it ever came down the line. I almost wish we were on better terms so I could see how an eternal commitment phobe is going to handle being a mom. I wish her the best, and I wish the father would get on board and be a part of the kid's life. Whether he does or not, G's little one has a wonderful mother who adores him.
Unlike the first round of ex pregnancies, this one has brought on the, "Awww, I want one too" feeling. I've always gone back and forth about more kids, but I kinda can't stop thinking about the idea lately. I don't love that there'd be such a huge age difference between Miss N and her sibling, but there can be upsides to that (built in babysitter, yo). Kids are tough and I used to think I wasn't cut out for parenthood because of my restless nature, but I do miss the days when I had an actual little one. This is a bad analogy, and will make me sound like a bad parent, but I liken it to how people feel when their puppy grows up and becomes a dog. Yeah, you still adore it and you're committed to it and all, but you always remember when it was a puppy and all the firsts that came along with that. Puppies and babies are cute, and that's how we're all lured into having them. We get so tied up in the cuteness that we sign on the dotted line without reading the fine print about how they grow and learn and, in the case of children, find us less and less cool and interesting. By the time all that rolls around, it's too late to bail out. So even though I know a second kid would eventually leave me the way Miss N is fixin' to, I still am in that sucker stage where I want one. Of course, I'd prefer to be with someone who wants the same thing. And therein lies the delay.
Agent W and I are both single at the same time for the first time in pretty much ever. We've always joked that we have a sort of yin and yang effect; if she's having a good day, I'm having a bad one, if she's in a relationship, I'm not in one. But it would seem our cycles have synced (haha). Whilst she's seeking Mr. Right via dating every halfway interesting guy that comes her way, I chose to bench myself for about a month so I could figure out what I wanted and how to get it. Spoiler alert: it did not last. The womensz have always been my downfall, so it's not shocking that my resolved didn't last long. But that's not to say the brief moment on the bench didn't provide some clarity. One of the things I realized is that I don't think I've ever been in a relationship where I didn't feel like one of many options to the other person. I mean, I've been in a few good relationships and I've been in love a few times, but never felt like that other person didn't have one eye on something else. No one has ever come in and been like, "I'm not letting you go" and then proven it to be a true statement. G was eternally in and out of things, as was my first love. There were maybe one or two people besides that who kinda, sorta fought for a minute, but obviously it didn't last. Admittedly, I've not been much of a fighter in most of my relationships, particularly during the dark ages when I could not have cared less about whether a chick chose to stay or go. But I feel like I have done a lot of fighting in some of them and it still hasn't made a difference. I relayed all of this to Agent W and she said she felt the same way, that most of the losers she's been dating seem to disappear after a few dates. We concluded that dating is just ridiculous anymore. It was hard enough back in the old days (you know, back before either of us were alive), but now people want instant gratification. And I'm guilty of that mindset too, I don't like wasting time on small talk when on a date. I want to be in something amazing, but the work it takes to find someone interesting, potentially fall in love and then get to the happy relationship stage seems daunting. Prior to Y's broken engagement, E and I were the only singletons in the group (though he's since met someone), and we were surprisingly okay with that. Yeah, we'd both rather be in relationships but neither of us have a problem being single. Is that part of my problem, maybe? I don't mind having time to myself and being able to do whatever I want, and maybe I've gotten too used to that? I don't think so. But I guess it's a possibility. Whatever the reason, I hope the right chick is on the horizon. And that she has all kindsa fight in her. That's something I will not lack in my next relationship.

I Search For Something To Compare You To, Thought Long And Hard For A Similie True, Now I'm Suddenly Aware, In The Quest You're Beyond Compare

A few nights ago I read about a minor league baseball team that is having a throwback night based on the 90's Nickelodeon game show, "Guts". For those not familiar (and shame on you, no matter your generation), "Guts" was a show in which contestants competed in extreme sports type challenges, the last one being climbing a massive, glowing rock wall. I always wanted to climb that wall...

Me: It was epic. I used to think I could climb that damn mountain better than any contestant
Then in junior high, my scrawny ass got to climb a rock wall for the first time. I couldn't make it halfway up a small damn mountain.
Me: And why did I even climb it? Bc Y wanted to flirt with the dude running the ride.
Me: Who turned out to be a homosexual.
Me: #TimeWellSpent
Friend: LMFAO. Tell her she owes you one.

Y and I be spending a lot of time together now that we're both single career gals and all. I relayed this convo to her and it prompted a walk down memory lane. When you have the same best friend for literally your entire life, going on 34 years now, you go through all kinds of crazy ish. And it all becomes a blur. When we were youngins, third or fourth grade I think, we were playing baseball in our backyard. The backyard at my childhood home was perfect for sports of all kinds, but especially baseball because it had an actual diamond. We had this soft sided bat that was everyone's favorite to use because you could hit the ball a long ass way. Turns out, you could also hit a human a hell of a long way with that bat. Depending on whose version of events you believe, I was either standing too close behind Y, or she exaggerated her swing and the follow through caught me right in the eye. I fell backwards, narrowly missing the metal rail of some stairs, and woke up the next day with a black eye. Oh yeah, and it was school picture day. Somewhere, my mom has that damn picture framed, black eye front and center. Y countered this story of abuse with her "emotional turmoil" (direct quote there) over my not being able to make it to prom, a prom I'd promised to take her to since our junior high days. She claims I did this because it was payback for that whole mountain climbing incident in those same junior high days, but I don't know what she be talking about. My rebuttal was when she (*cough* intentionally *cough*) broke my foot in college while we were moving. She, of course, denies it was intentional and instead chooses the victim shaming route, claiming I put myself in a position to have my foot broken. Back and forth our banter went, arguing over who did what to whom and what the motive was. And we had so much material to use against one another, things both of us had forgotten about until now. And it all left me with this overwhelming sense of gratitude. Even with the occasional abuse, I'm an unbelievably blessed to have been able to spend the last 34 years with this beautiful lady. She has been endlessly supportive of me, even when I've made terrible decisions, or when we both know I'm probably going to make a terrible decision. I've been fortunate to have many examples of unconditional love in my life, but hers is truly that ride or die type. This woman would kill for me (or, some days, kill me). She's the best friend one could ever hope to have and, for reasons I will never understand, I won the lottery to have her as my BFF. I'm a lucky dude, not everyone gets a friend like that. I said it before and I'll say it again, I absolutely adore her and I look forward to the next 34 years of debauchery, inappropriateness and, Fonz willing, murder.

And We'll Never Be El Chapos

Me: *Rolls off flavor of the week and whispers all Spanishy* Let me be your El Chapo
Me: Would you kill...if I asked you to kill..
Me: Would you drug traffic...if I asked you to...traffic...
Me: Would you rob...a 7-11...
Me: Would you save...my...soul...*dramatically moves hand across face* to...niiight.
Her: LOL. I wouldn't be surprised if you did it to your own face.
Me: I could be your El Chapo baby...
Me: I can blow your enemies away...
Me: If you leave me, I'll hunt you down gurl...
Me: I...will...take...your breath away *dramatically moves hand across throat*
Her: LMFAO

==========

G: Hey, I already finished my crap. What have ya'll done today??
Y: I just woke up, so nothing yet.
Me: I rewrote the lyrics to Enrique Iglesias' "Hero" to be about El Chapo.
G: LMAO. You know, Giuseppe, this is why I ask questions. And your answers never, ever disappoint.
Me: LOL. I live an interesting life, G.

==========

G: I just read your El Chapo song. Shouldn't it be, "Would you rob a Seben-Eleben"? You know, to account for Enrique's accent.
Me: LOL. I love when you take my offensiveness and make it even more offensive. Well done.
G: lol I live an interesting life, Giuseppe. 
Me: And how

And The Hangover Doesn't Pass

I've been thinking lately about how we lose touch with some people so easily and don't always attempt to get back in contact until it's too late. Last week someone close to me lost a friend they hadn't spoken to in awhile in a freak accident and she's been beating herself up a bit about not trying to get back into each other's lives. Both this friend and myself are pretty terrible about keeping in touch with people in general, so it's never surprising when one of us loses touch with someone. Usually, I'm pretty good about keeping in contact with those closest to me, but it was a conscious decision to fall out of contact with a family member that finally got me on the road to bettering myself.
I didn't "meet" my surrogate grandmother until I was about 10 years old. She was our grandma's best friend and they'd raised their own kids together, and met each other's grandkids, but somehow lost touch over the prior ten years. After grandma died, we got back into contact with all kinds of people from her past, but the kids didn't remember very many of them, surrogate grandma included. She became a huge force in our lives though. We'd spend our summers there and visit often throughout the year. I adored this woman but she was a bit scattered; she smoked like a train and she often had this grandiose plans of things we'd all pile in the car to go do, even though us kids knew it would never happen. Still, I learned a lot from her and I loved being around her. She was endlessly supportive of my love of film, never missing a single film festival or art show that I was involved in throughout my high school and college days. She would sit there and listen to me blather on for hours about how much I loved directing or storyboarding or editing, and she did it with a genuine interest. She listened and she was interested because she loved me and I was telling her about my passion. I've never forgotten about how intently she listened because it's rarely happened to me since. Most people listen so they can figure out when its their turn to speak, or they get bored and tune out altogether. But not her. After I graduated college, things changed dramatically for her. All of her kids and their kids moved out of state and she was alone in the house with her partner. She was on disability, so she didn't work and just stayed home with the dogs all day and watched television. I would talk to her at least once a month and, for awhile, I was helping her out with some financial support. She and her partner had been together for eons, and I have fond memories of him being nothing but great to us as kids, but it was common knowledge their relationship with each other was never the greatest. I always got the impression they stayed together because it was easier to do, financially and physically, than to move on with their own lives. And really, they lived separate lives a lot of the time. Sometimes he was there when we went to visit, sometimes he wasn't, and that was just how it was. As time wore on, they began to live even more separate lives and were rarely under the same roof, though still technically living together. It was weird though...despite things having been that way for as long as I could remember, she seemed to have a major problem with him being out and about with other women. Perhaps their arrangement wasn't supposed to include other people, I don't know. But I do recall an incident in the early 2000's where my brother said she suspected he had a girlfriend and she was quite upset about it. And in hindsight, maybe this was the beginning of the end for her.
The year was 2006 and I was probably in the worst of my depression and debauchery. I was two years out of college and just a total mess, though you'd never have known it from the outside. Hell, a lot of those on the inside didn't even know it because I was that good at keeping a pretty face on. At the time I was still talking to my surrogate grandmother every month without fail, until later in the year when an incident prompted me to intentionally lose contact. I called her around lunch time, after having been on a massive coke-fueled bender the night before, and I could tell she was under the influence of something herself. Her speech was very slurred and I kept having to repeat things I'd just said. I asked several times if she was okay and she said she was just tired, which I knew to be a lie but didn't call her on it. The whole convo probably lasted twenty minutes before I said I had to go and we hung up. This wasn't the first time I'd heard her like that, it'd been happening pretty much every call for the last six months or so. I also suspected she was using the money I was sending her to buy liquor or cigarettes, and I wasn't a fan of that. This latest call sort of confirmed all of that for me and I decided not to send money anymore and to scale back contact a bit. The hypocrisy, of course, being that I was spending my money on my own habit while admonishing her for spending my money on her habit. We were one and the same but I was in a position to change things (for both of us, really). We didn't talk much for the next year and that was mostly on me. I mean, she didn't try to call me either but I sort of feel like it was my responsibility to keep up the contact in this case. The next year saw me try and fail miserably at holding together a relationship whilst kicking my bad habits and more of my loved ones becoming aware of my issues. And then out of the blue I got a call saying she'd been found unconscious in her home and was rushed to the hospital with a suspected overdose of something. It turned out to be alcohol poisoning and she never woke up. I struggled with the decision of whether or not to go see her before she was taken off the machines before ultimately deciding not to. I didn't want to see her that way and I didn't want to remember her that way. I did go home after she passed because there were some things she'd wanted me to have when she died, and that process ended up being very healing for me. I felt tremendous guilt, mistakenly believing that if I'd just kept in touch with her things would have been different. But I knew there was not much I really could've done, she was going to drink herself to death whether I kept in touch or not. Losing her prompted me to finally get my ish together because I didn't want to end up that way.
Sometimes losing touch with someone is the best thing we can do for ourselves, or for them. And sometimes it's completely unnecessary and both parties suffer. But you can only beat yourself up about it for so long. People change and grow apart, and when they don't, they're bound to get left behind by those that do seek change. I do still regret having lost touch in the way I did, but I think it was a necessary thing. I think about her often, especially when I accomplish something in my career because I remember how supportive she was of it. And I try to take the things I learned from her, good and bad, with me as I keep on livin'. Whenever I get close to going off the rails, I remember her and how her story ended and how it felt for those of us left behind to lose her. I couldn't put anyone I love, especially not my own child, through any of that. Even this many years on, she is greatly missed.

And I Remember Your Eyes Were So Bright When I First Met You, So In Love That Night

I hate change. I'm sure I've started a past blog with those words because change and I are mortal enemies. But I am able to commit to change when it's absolutely necessary. I've made a lot of changes in my life this year. I was stuck in many ruts as 2015 arrived, and I promised myself I would not get stuck in anymore. It sounds stupid and cheesy, but this has been the the year of learning to love myself. That's been...difficult for me, not just in the Dark Ages, but throughout my life. The older I get, and the older Miss N gets, the more I realize how important it is to learn to live with what you are. And I'm not as terrible as I used to believe I was. I'm highly critical of myself, always have been and probably always will be. And that's ok. I'm learning not to be so hard on myself. I'm learning that while parts of my past have been difficult, and may be difficult for future partners to accept, other parts were pretty darn good. I'm a decent dude, I think. Sure, I'm moody and I can be fickle and I can be a bastard sometimes. But I'm smart, and caring and extremely loyal to the people I love. And I'm ok with the good and bad parts of my personality. I don't love me yet, but I finally like and accept me as is and that's a big accomplishment.
I don't believe in New Year's resolutions because they set people up to fail. Yeah, it's easy to say we're gonna change our lives when we're high on Christmas cheer (literally and/or figuratively), but then we come down off that month-long high and the reality of everyday, not so jovial life sets in. Then it becomes, "I'll start that tomorrow...or Monday...or next month", until you fall off the wagon, or just never even board it. I didn't make meaningless resolutions for 2015, I made conscious decisions to improve myself and my life. The first decision was to recommit myself to my faith. I fell off the path a bit for awhile and it had a negative effect on my life. I went back to using a substance or two that I should be staying clear of and, regardless of the reasons for this, I knew and should know better (but if I'm being brutally honest here, I'd still be an occasional user of two of my bigger vices if I didn't have a kid and if the come down from the highs weren't such a bitch). I'm proud to say that I've gotten to a point where I meditate almost everyday, and study a few times a week. And it's helped tremendously. It's made me calmer. It may have taken me a long time to find what works for me, but better late than never, right? And it's helped with decision number two, which was to make sure my health stays on point. Aside from a nasty recurrence of that awful ear infection that kicked my dainty ass last year, I've been successful. I don't eat much junk food anymore and I try to run just about everyday. Sometimes running actually helps to clear my mind (don't get it twisted though, I still hate cardio with a damn passion).
Some change can be good. But some change is a bitch. And sometimes your head and your heart don't get the same memo about changes. I don't have the greatest of memories, but one very vivid memory I have is of the night I met G. She was gorgeous and fiery and every bit the smartass. I fell hard and I fell fast. And that was my downfall. I could never un-love her. I could never mentally shake my damn self and let go of the possibility of our ending up together. In my view, she was damn near perfect. Yeah, some of her family and I had our battles, and she could be maddeningly indecisive and occasionally high maintenance, but I adored her, flaws and all. And she loved and accepted all of me, which was wonderful to feel. The relationship was amazing, one of the few I've ever been in where I felt, "Yeah, I could spend the rest of my life here and be just fine". But she could never hardcore commit to that. She loved me and she wanted it to work, but something in her just wouldn't allow it to. It'd get too deep or too serious and she'd pull away. At first, this meant we'd just slow our roll but stay together, however it later meant that we'd break up for awhile, then reunite and do it all over again. Eventually, it became a case of being broken up and falling back into one another when we got tired of the dating scene. I know my friends thought I was always setting myself up to get hurt because we all knew it was temporary and no real reconciliation was on the way, but I knew full well what was going on. I knew that we'd fall into each other, I'd start falling for her again, and before she could do the same, she'd be out and we'd be living separate lives. Yes, it hurt, but I still couldn't pull away.

Officially, G and I have not been a couple for close to nine years, but there has been much hooking up with each other over those years. For that reason, we've both felt that the other is there should we need emotional support of some kind, though we've rarely used each other for that. Last year, some stuff went down between us that ended up being cataclysmic and ending whatever was lingering between us. We didn't speak for months, and that was my choice. But she did reach out earlier this year and, having just gone through something else that had provided no resolution and a somewhat abrupt ending, I felt guilty for having just cut her off last year. So we talked and it was...uncomfortable, given the circumstances of her pregnancy. But we hashed out some things and agreed that whatever happens down the line, happens, if anything does. We've rarely spoken since, but I heard through the grapevine that she gave birth to a son late last month and I felt...I don't know the word for it, really. I guess there could be many words for it. I haven't been in love with her for eons, but it's always difficult when someone you used to be head over heels for moves on with their life, be it with a new partner or with having a child. I struggled with it for a few days before Agent W suggested I write one of them there letters I'll never send to G. I did that in an effort to get over someone else and it worked wonders. I felt much better after writing that same letter to G. I finally let everything go, I think. My trouble in letting it all go was that that relationship was probably the only one I've ever been at my best in. And it totally had everything I could ever want in a relationship; we were best friends, we were accepting of each other's beliefs and pasts, we could talk about absolutely everything, from random ish that didn't matter, to deep conversations about history and philosophy. It was not perfect, but it was a damn good relationship between two imperfect souls. But that ship has since sailed. Hopefully, there will be another great relationship in my future. And even if there isn't, that one taught me so much about myself that I don't regret a single second of it and I genuinely wish her and the new little love of her life the best. They both deserve that and so much more.

Comin' Outta My Shirt, And Then My Skirt Came Down

Me: I was just gonna text you actually
Me: I came across a new kind of Keebler cookies today and I...I felt things
Me: One was PB filling covered in fudge and peanuts
Me: And the other was coconut filling covered in fudge and salted caramel
Me: I wanted them sooooooo bad #JesusTakeTheWheel
Me: I felt like a woman of the 90's on Slim Fast
W: LMAO. That coconut thing sounds sinful.
Me: Oh my god, there were pictures of the cookies on the package too...I was feeling so good, I had to touch myself.
Me: Not sure if it was the elves or the cookies that did it
W: LOL #Supafreak
Me: #NoShame
W: #NoBlame

Flames To Dust, Lovers To Friends

It's been a minute since my last post due to life getting in the way of writing. I have a ton of stuff to write about and it's all just swirling around what's left of my brain whilst I'm busy with everything else. And this post is being written with a bit of a heavy heart because people I adore are going through some life-altering ish.

My best friend is awesome. She's caring and intelligent and funny and just a genuinely nice and good person. I am better for having been blessed with her presence in my life the last 34 years. Our time together has produced so much, both good and bad. We've been in relationships, out of relationships, up, down and everywhere in between. Neither of us are quite sure how to navigate this dating business, but she is by far better at it than I am. She's always had a habit of falling for the brothers of the women I've dated, but she broke the cycle years ago when she started dating the man who would eventually become the father of her child. Things would've been all sunshine and rainbows for them if not for his family who want him to settle down and have a family with a Puerto Rican chick, even if that's not what he wants. Usually a pushover for his family's hijinks, he decided to do what he wanted and pursue Y, and they were both all kindsa happy for awhile. Then she got pregnant and things got complicated because his family became even more open about how much they detested his choice to be with her, for no other reason than the fact she isn't Puerto Rican. They even suggested he bail and not take responsibility for the kid, though it never crossed his mind to do so. It was unconventional and difficult, but he adored Y and wanted to be with her and raise their kid together. She wanted that too, and she committed to that, but eventually his family's hostility towards her became too much and the final straw was when they began trying to coerce the kid into believing untrue ish about her mother. Upon leaving the relationship, Y met H, who is totally not her type. She grew up around crazy Latin fools, so that tends to be the kind of guy she goes for. H is as white as a white boy can be, hailing from Sweden and totally unaware of just how much whiter that makes him. He's a wonderful dude, but I was surprised when they hit it off and began dating. H made it clear he someday wanted a wife and kids, and in that order, and Y made it clear that she'd been through a bad marriage and wasn't looking to get hitched again anytime soon, but was open to the possibility someday. Funny thing about "someday" - it creeps up on you. All of this was a few years back, when we were all hovering around 30 and thinking we were still young and ish. Now, she's on the brink of 34 and he turned 36 a few months back and he wanted that whole marriage thing. They got engaged last year, but I know she thought twice before saying, "Yes".  She put off setting a date for quite sometime and had a meltdown this year when he started putting wedding plans into action. He slowed his roll, but he also demanded she set a date, something she just hasn't been able to do. Why? Because she's realized that he's not going to change his stance marriage and kids and, oh by the way, she's not in love with him. She got comfortable with him and that's why she just kinda stayed on for the ride. And now, the ride is coming to an end. Last weekend when we flew home, she showed up sans her fiancé and downplayed why he wasn't there. But I knew why. You don't spend 34 years with someone and not know the thought behind their every move. They'd decided to take some time and figure out what comes next,  the choices being either a wedding or a final split. She chose a split. And it's the right call, I think. If you're not in love, you're not in love. It's still sad though, for so many reasons. He adores her and Miss L and he's a genuinely wonderful guy. And then there's having to start all over again with someone new, which is always annoying but even more so in your 30's. I love them both and I want the best for them. Sadly, ending up together isn't the best thing.

On the heels of Y's breakup comes word that my cousin may be ending his 13-yeae marriage next week. I've chronicled their issues here; last year they decided to try for a baby and found out that they can't have children, and it's sent the marriage into a nosedive. My cousin has been desperately clinging to the controls, trying to level things out, but he's gotten little help or support from his wife. She's had a fee moments where it seemed like she's seen the light and wants to start fixing things, but it's always a short-lived commitment. She seems content to travel by herself and do whatever she wants, without any mention of what she wants from him, if anything. And he's finally had enough. He's tired of not having a partner and wondering if she's going to come back from each trip with divorce papers. Nothing has shocked her back to reality yet, so he finally went with an ultimatum - have a conversation and make a decision by next week, or he'll make it for them in the form of a legal separation. I'm very sad to say that I don't think they're gonna make it. I know it must be difficult to find out the plans you had of children with the love if your life won't happen, st least not the way you wanted it to. But you can only mourn for so long. Eventually, you have to pick yourself up and decide what comes next. But it's like she's stuck in the mourning phase and flat out refuses to pull herself out. Because I guess it's better to lose out on kids and lose your best friend, than to pick yourself up and continue down a slightly altered path with the person you adore. I hope they work it out, but I can't blame him for deciding to let the whole thing go down in flames now.

My family be dropping like flies, yo. My brother's divorce recently became final, ending a rocky almost 20-year relationship. And now Y and the cousin are recently single and possibly about to be single. *sigh* Relationships are hard.