Single-but-attached 47-year old seeking personal satisfaction through blogging. A lifelong southerner, I have recently moved to urban Ohio and am transitioning from living in the Bible Belt to the place I think of as the crack showing above its waistband (“crack” being the operative word– there’s lots of it here).
In past incarnations, I’ve been a singing telegram girl, a cocktail waitress, a freelance greeting card/slogan writer, an optician, a payroll clerk, a counselor/advocate at a university, and a Human Resources coördinator.
I have fibromyalgia, which has sort of changed the course of my life. I have a separate blog about that. If you’re interested, you can view it here.
Hobbies are: painting, photography, writing, bicycling, art, movies, music and reading.
Favorite people in the universe: Tom (my angel), my two precious children, and my amazing friends and family.
I love feedback– please feel free to leave comments, or contact me at the address listed on my sidebar. Happy trails to you!
Update (October 5th, 2010): Wow, how things have changed. Since writing this, I’ve lived in Tennessee, Texas and now Arkansas. My fibromyalgia has been in remission for more than a year (woo hoo!). Tom and I split up, and one of those precious children of mine recently had a baby. I acquired Theo the Wonderdog ®, my little Chihuahua/ Jack Russell mix. I turned fifty and lived to tell about it.
I’m still writing, still painting, still bicycling (though I have a flat right now). I walk an awful lot, hike when I can, and not too long ago I floated down a river in a canoe and long to do it again- as many times as I can. I’m learning guitar and I’ve been writing some really terrible songs lately.
I don’t spend quite as much time on this blog as I used to, but I will always come back to it. Life is good, life is ever-changing, life keeps me busy. xoxox
Update (November 3rd, 2011): It’s been the most incredible year. For one thing, I SUPPORTED MYSELF BY WRITING. I met incredible people, traveled, camped, fished and fell in love with a most wonderful man. First we were friends, then roommates, then Significant Others and, as of eighteen days ago, husband and wife. He won’t let Theo the Wonderdog® call him “Dad,” but otherwise, we’ve all blended splendidly. The future’s so bright, I have to wear sunscreen, a visor AND shades.
Update (September 24, 2013):
Holy hoppin’ hormones, I’ve had another birthday. It occurred to me, looking at my About page, that I’m way overdue for an update. I started this blog at the tender age of, um…46. So much has changed.
Avatars are ageless. Theda Bara was in her early thirties when the above photo was taken. No crow’s feet, no gray hair, and those Frisbees on her boobs sit proudly upright. I feel a little guilty now, using such a hottie photo at this stage of the game, so, using a special age progression technique (GIMP), I’ve changed it to more accurately reflect the present:
I really look nothing like this, but it’s the best I can do.
Since that last update, I’ve been settling into a life of happy domestic bumbling. In a few weeks, Amadeus and I will celebrate our second anniversary. In many ways, it feels as though we’ve always been together (so much so that I had to actually look up the year we married as I wrote this). I’ve learned so much from this guy I’m with. About love, collaboration, partnership, and whose responsibility it is to put away the #$%^ laundry.
Our lives aren’t fancy–we squeak by–but we squeak together. Amadeus recently retired from teaching and traded half of his income for freedom. We’re still adjusting, but overall, it’s been a great experience. We hike and fish from riverbanks, take photos, soak up art and music and words. We also sit on the sofa like potatoes in comas; he works on a webpage he’s started, I work on my writing. It’s not the most exciting adventure, but I swear to you, we could be changing a tire and I’d find some sort of joy in it. I pinch myself often. Ouch.
Amadeus plays in bands, I do occasional presentations and readings of my work. We write songs, together and separately, and sometimes perform them in public. I read a disclaimer before we sing, so as not to damage my husband’s career as a professional musician. I’ve self-published a couple of not-so-great books, produced an audio book, and learned scads in the process. Not long ago, one of my stories was chosen for an NPR radio show, and I got to read it to the entire world. Never, ever would I have believed that my life would look like this. Never did I imagine that my fifties would be the most exciting, soul-filling chapter of my life. It’s making me all weepy to write it.
My dream is still to make an actual income from doing these things. It’s a fuzzy picture, but it’s coming into focus. Amadeus and I are at a stage in life where we’re willing to pack up and relocate, so if you know of anyone who’s looking for a couple of loons for hire, please let us know.
This story keeps rolling around in my head, this little story about nothing. One night, there was a meteor shower, and a friend invited us out to his house in the country to watch it. Amadeus, my son and I drove up his dirt road, where he met us, beer in hand. Despite the remote location, there were huge lights on poles and we kept moving our chairs, trying to strategically block the glare behind a stand of trees. Finally, we each found a satisfactory patch of sky, and the four of us watched the show, softly oohing and aahhing as stars shot across the heavens. In between meteors, we sat in silent anticipation, soaking up the delicious feeling that comes from knowing something beautiful is about to happen. A peacefulness permeated the cool air, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. The world was safe and sweet. I was among such good people. A small thing, but a huge gift. It wasn’t the stars–well it was the stars–but it was also the fact that I could now see them so clearly.
I’m always wary of all of the Web Buddhas and self-proclaimed sages who offer advice online. But in honor of my birthday, I want to throw a log onto the wisdom pile. If you’re reading these words and your life has been sludge, just know that things change. Life turns on a shiny dime. Be tenacious. I believe in you. It may take a while before you see the shooting stars, but I promise, they’re there.
P.S. Theo the Wonderdog® says to tell you “hi.”