Versatile Bloggr Adward

I have been nominated by Eideard www.eideard.wordpress.com  and Cindy www.notjustagranny.wordpress.com  for the Versatile Blogger Award. Thanks to both of you for this recognition.

Cindy offered it to me a while ago..so I guess with the second one I need to respond..

 

thank you both

The rules of  the Versatile Blogger Award are:

Add the Versatile Award photo on a blog post.  Thank the award-giver and link back to them in your post.–ok not sure how to do the link back

Share 7 things about myself.

1- i love pink

2- I love to travel

3- I have a pink van

4- I love my dog missy

5-I am searching for my soul mate

6-I love chocolate

7-At 50 I am only just beginning to figure out life…..

Pass the award along to 15 favourite bloggers. Contact the chosen bloggers to let them know about the award.

 

ok don’t know if I have 15 but the following are my favorites

1- Eidard

2-notjustagranny.wordpress.com

3-

	Appleblossom’s

4- JetHead’s Blog

 

 

 

love notes to my beloved……

Beloved, it is not that I desire

your tender lips gently kissing my neck, my breasts, my thighs,

nor is it that I desire your arms embracing my body

as we are dance in holy worship…

… No, it is not merely a desire…

 It is as essential as the breath I take.

My soul must be consumed by your passions

 if I AM to have life….   if I AM to have joy….   if I AM to have love….

 then my body, my soul, my heart and my mind

must be consumed and devoured

by your body, your soul, your heart and your mind.

Love Notes to my beloved……

My beloved,

thoughts of you fill my mind and my body.

Your presence is an intoxicating elixir in which I am bound to submit and to surrender… Your hand gently caressing my skin and exploring the nuances of my body stirs memories of long ago when an embrace was a sweet eternity….

your kisses are the souls gateway beyond space and time …..

Thoughts of you simply engulf my body in the sweet fires of loves passion….

I have no other destiny but to submit,

and to surrender and to allow

your scent, your touch, your caress, and your power

to consume me in waves of ecstasy……

now and forever into eternity…

..as thoughts of you fill my mind and my body…..

Broken hearts………

No one, not one being has the capacity to break your heart.

We get ouches along the way but no one really can break your heart.

It is a choice that we make.  We can choose to believe that someone “hurt” us, that this other person  is the cause of our bad feelings.

That is a choice no doubt about it and some people might say it could even be justified.

Or you can make the choice to know that the heart can not dictate who it loves or does not love.  And if someone chose somebody else over you they were merely following the dictates of their heart in that given space-time.

The heart can only be broken if you have lost the capacity to love another being…..as long as you have the ability to love, as a verb, then your heart was never broken….maybe a little bruised but with time bruises do fade…..

The “Extra”

Here we are, all at work, making a living in an unstable business, dictated by the whims of the powers that be.

At one time hopeful of dreams to be fulfilled, … now weather-worn and dreams amiss we take each day  one at a time.

We make our crosses and counter crosses, indulging in a world of make-believe and pretend  bringing an aura of substance and reality into this celluloid dimension, so that the viewer can escape his everyday reality into a world of suspension of disbelief.

Who are we ?  We are the unknowns.

You will never see our names in the credits nor will you see us in fancy finery at award banquets or dinners.

 Yet… we are the silent partners of the silver screen.  We are the missing pieces that enable you to emerge yourself in the fantasy of cinema.

 ”They” call us “extras”, but we are no more extra than the actors or director.

We are an essential piece of the puzzle that makes it complete.

In many ways we are quite like yourself.  A small cog in a large mechanism.

 Often we are overlooked and unrecognized, but you cannot dismiss us any more than the screw which hold the engine mounts in place.

 Why do we continue?  Because very deep in our heart and soul a small piece of the dream lives on.

The hope still exists that the transition  will be made from “background actor” to center stage.

And all the years will not have been for naught, but rather the work and toil of the talented craftsmen  dutifully paying his dues in the fulfillment of a dream.

Related articles

• Never Give Up On Your Dream (patriciastuartministers.wordpress.com)

“Do not be unequally yoked”

Do not be unequally yoked…what does this mean?  The universe requires divine partnership….divine partnership with the self, with the sacred other and with the divine.

Thus to be unequally yoked indicates a pairing or coupling which is not divinely ordained—that is to say that it is not your soul mate…big deal, so what, you say.

Well it is a big deal.  When two people come together that are soul mates, in that union they create a bigger light than if they were alone or separated.

This light is the reflection of the divine light shining through and as their relationship.

Too often we stay with the wrong person for many reasons…..it’s convenient…..we have kids…….I don’t want to be alone…..I’m getting my green card..yatta…yatta..yatta.

What happens in this kind of situation is that you don’t get the double light effect of the divine pairing.  What you get is two people who are only half lights—they are not even one light together.

So you have two people who should not be together and that means that there are another two people who are also with the wrong people.  So there are now 4 people who are not experiencing or reflecting divine bliss.

The numbers rise expontentially…..the 4 become 8 become 16 etc…. Negativity and unhappiness increase on the planet.

But every time two soul mates recognize each other and come together in union, that means that those who are single are two people closer to finding their soul mates.

And as soul mates come together more love and light descends and arises out of the planet into the universe and into eternity.    It is far better to shine brightly as a single light than to be in a coupling where your light is dimmed.

Related articles

• Soul Mate Mirrors (blissreturned.wordpress.com)
• Soul Mates (zablogar.wordpress.com)

…boriqua woman….

Is it possible to remember a distant memory?

I remember your lips, so soft, so red

pressed against my skin.

Tell me, what did my skin feel like?

Was it soft, was it sweet?

I can feel your warm breath upon my neck.

Do you remember what it felt like

to have your face nestled in my neck?

Do I arouse you?  I want to.

I want to arouse not only your body

but your heart and soul as well.

And I can imagine your lips

traveling down my neck and

placing gentle kisses

upon my soft, firm breasts.

Can you imagine that?

I can and more…

I can imagine your tongue

caressing my hard nipples and

my breath stops

and I have to stop because suddenly

I feel the pain of a desire that

seems will never be satisfied . . .

. . . but I remember your strong arms

embracing me, and feeling oh so small and tiny.

Tell me did I feel small and fragile to you?

Do not be fooled by my small stature

for I am a surprisingly strong woman.

And I imagine myself

wrapped in your arms

feeling safe and secure on my beautiful island

being lulled to sleep by the singing of the coqui,

the symbol of my people.

And as I listen to the nocturnal melodies

my mind drifts off to a different time, a different world centuries ago.

And I begin to wonder what my great-grandmother

could have felt as she gazed upon the face of the conquistador

of long ago, who would conquer not only her land

but her heart and body as well.

And I wonder what my great-grandfather may have felt

as he gazed upon the Boricua woman,

whose beauty and savage sensuality would cause him to take her country for his own.

Tell me have you any idea

of what that Spaniard from long ago

may have felt as he immersed himself in my tropical world.

And I begin to wonder

if there will be a new story to tell,

of a modern-day conquest,

of a Spaniard who crosses the ocean

to steal the heart of a Boricua woman.

…but how can you steal what is so willfully given?

And now I think that I shall go to sleep

for in my dreams, at least, I can be with you.

And in my dreams I can conquer the memory

that continues to fade with each waking day.

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,900 times in 2011. If it were a cable car, it would take about 48 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Happy Holy Days…….

 

May these

Holy Days of Celebration & Remembrance

find your heart filled with love,

your mind filled with peace,

your days filled with joy,

and your future filled with prosperity……..

La Sirene e il marinao

 

Nel mito delle sirene e il mare

si dice

Che il canto delle sirene

si è portato piu di un marinaio

ai fondi del mare.

 

La sua voce, la dolcezza che

cattura l=anima del marinaio,

le sue labbra di  ciliegia, il  suo petto rotondi e sodo,

la sua pelle vellutata che riflette i raggi di sole

ipnotizza la vista del marinaio.

 

Perso nel suo cammino

per il miraggio di passione

che gli si confronta con la sirena.

 

…ah maledetta sirena…..

Questa volta sarà  lei

 

la captivita del marinaio…

 

Sono i suoi occhi

che riflettono i raggi di sole

sono le sue  labbra e il suo sorriso

che riflette la luce delle stelle

 

…e come una falena

che vola dentro il fuoco…..

 

La maladetta sirena

nuota verso al barca del marinaio

 

e un patto con il diavolo  fa                          

per cambiare la sua coda

per un paio di gambe femminili

 

per

 

scalare sulla barca

e sottomettersi al marinaio

che ha pescato e catturato

la sua anima e il  suo cuore.

The Window Washer

 

 

April 13, 2004

 I was sitting getting my nails done because I had an audition later that afternoon when he walked into the salon, an unassuming gentleman and in whose eyes you could see humility and humbleness.  He was of small stature not more than 5′ 4″ tall, blond, and  his face reflected back many long hard years. He along with his partner of Latino decent were there to wash the mirrors.

 I was simply fascinated by the work he was doing. It was as if he was dancing, the mirror being his partner.  In his right hand he held a squeegee, the tool of his trade and in his left some old newspaper.

  And thus the dance began, with the squeegee in his right hand he made s’s, slowly, softly and as graceful as a figure skater upon the ice making figure eight’s. 

And with the left hand he caught the water drippings from the squeegee.  Not a smudge was to be seen on that silvery lake. He seemed  oblivious to those around him. 

 I turned to watch his partner who was not quite as comfortable or had yet perfected the task at hand.

They worked swiftly and efficiently.  They could not have been there more than 10 minutes when their work was done.  It is strange how in the small quick moments of life we are often profoundly affected.

He approached the manager who was doing my nails at the time which allowed me to look deeply into his eyes.  What I saw was a soul who had worked too hard for far too long for too little pay.

 ”Eight dollars” he said,  I was stunned.  Eight dollars for the completed task.  The manager handed him a ten-dollar bill.  When he went to give her change she told him to keep it.  Ten dollars split into two gave each man five dollars apiece. 

He negotiated the next appointment, “three weeks”, he said.  “No, four weeks”,  the manager said.  “We will come back in three to four weeks”, he said.

And out the door they sauntered off.  Buckets swinging side to side.  Their image slowing getting smaller as they walked to their next destination.

 And I was in awe of how blessed I am.  That the least I ever make is $70.00 dollars an hour for being a clown (my day job), and doing something fun that I enjoy.

 Their humble image seared into my brain to serve as a reminder lest I should dare to complain.

Fire Dancer…..

…  I think of you

day & night…..

 

   ..thoughts of you filter through my brain                                                  

as I drift off to sleep

& thus the tempest rises forth.

 

..and I toss and I turn

because your lingering memory will not fade.

 

I think of your long mane,

Royal & Majestic

 

I think of your soft hands

moving upon my body.

 

I think of your body covered

in the symbology of spirit.

 

I think of your ass, nice and round,

and the way it sits in black leather.

 

I think of how your hips

sway as you dance with fire

and how your feet glide

in total syncopation

Like a snake slithering

through flames.

 

..and I think of how

filled up I feel when

you are inside of me…

 

…and I want to be

that fire, that flame

that so willingly

submits & surrenders

 

to your dance

    your art,

    your GOD

demi-god

I AM here

to give homage

to the

Demi-God.

 

I AM here

to drink the nectar

of your soul,

to quench my thirst and hunger,

to fill my cells, my very being

with your essence.

 

I AM here

to gaze upon your face, your body

to look into your eyes and see

Blessed Father, the Most High

smiling back at me

 

As the prodigal daughter

returns to reunite

with the prodigal son.

 

And in that union

bring forth

Heaven on Earth.       

 

I love you with my soul,

throughout time,

throughout eternity….

I love you with the depth of my heart,

inside you will find your soul and your dreams,

I love you with every fiber of my body—

I submit and surrender to your body and your love….

……I am merely the reflection of your essence,

 your love, your soul….

…the eternal dance……

I do not want the passions of youth…for they are but briefs moments in time…

I do not want the excitement of someone new for that too fades…..

what I do want is what they have….

you see that elderly couple dancing over there…

the ones that have been married for 50 years…

do you see the way he holds her still?……

do you see the twinkle in his eyes? ….

do you see the radiance in her smile full of love?….

that my friend, is what I desire…

……a love that lasts through eternity…….

a love note…….

 

 

Was there a Buddha

Before Buddha?

 

Was there a Jesus      

Before the Christ?

 

Where is this Master

that you seek?

 

Great Avatars are these

who walked in no one’s shadow.

 

Masters of light

Walking the planet

as mortals.

 

There was no master

before Buddha.

 

There was no master

before Christ.

 

Where is this Master

that you seek?

 

You walk upon the earth

disguised as a mere mortal.

 

Take off the mask

& CLAIM your birthright…

 

…Demi-God,

Master of Light & Fire

Son of the Most High….

Fifty and Fabulous…….

Last week I celebrated my 50 th Birthday by having a Pirate Costume Party.

In my last post I wrote that by my 50th Birthday I wanted to be fabulous.  Fabulous meaning that I would lose the excess weight and buddha belly and that I would be one hot momma !!!!!!

That’s what I did for my 40th Birthday and I looked hot.

Actually I have been a hottie all of my life but I just did not know it at the time.

It has taken getting older and seeing pictures of myself as I looked a long time ago to realize that what I was feeling on the inside did not match what people were seeing on the outside.

So I lived my life and made my choices as the ugly girl, the unwanted girl because that is what I felt like on the inside.  I did not get by on looks, after all I did not realize I had any.  I developed my brains and my personality.

As I have gotten older and matured I realized I was attractive, somewhere in my 30′s and I would get bored if men told me I was beautiful because I felt like the only stopped at the window dressing and did not go beyond what they were seeing to really “see” me.

The funny thing is that I really did not see myself either.

And 50 is such a big fat number.  I have now jumped into another age group category when filling out forms (sacry…so scary…).

I am struggling with the perceptions I had of women who were 50 when I was young as compared to how I feel about myself.

I am still single and would love to be with my soul mate (Jesus, Lord where in hell is he btw?) so I can not fall into the “well I’m 50 now and old”.

I am fighting that, in my mind at least….

Yes, I am 50. 

Yes, I color my hair to hide the gray (so not ready for that yet). 

Although I do look good in really white hair, you know that silver white but what I have is not that, at least not yet.

And yes, I am about 15-20 lbs over weight….but guess what?

Fifty and Fabulous is not about my physical state and what my outsides look like.

Fifty and Fabulous is an internal state of mind.

So my outside still does not match the inside of me but what I do know is that even though I am 50, even though I have gray that I hide, even though I am a little (cough–cough) over-weight I am FABULOUS.

I am still a hottie because being a hottie is more a state of mind than a physical state.

Now, don’t get me wrong I am still plan to on work outside.  The goal is to ultimately have the balance between mind-body-spirt.

So, to all the ladies out there 50+…keep on being fabulous…

And to all the young ladies minus 50 know that you are already fabulous just as you are and please don’t wait until you are 50 to embrace that.

Zombieland….

I want to be Fifty and fabulous on my Birthday this Dec but I feel like a zombie, the walking dead.  I have modified my diet and I have lost 3-4 lbs but I am not yet motivated to work out.

I have discovered Zumba classes and have been to three but my work this past couple of weeks has prevented me from going to class.  I have even thought that I would like to get certified as a Zumba instructor–but who wants to take a class from an unfit lady?

As some of you already know I have stopped taking the little blue pills so I now have to deal with the anxieties of my mind and life organically without the use of drugs.

Lately I just want to stay in bed and not get up.  I think that if I only do that for one day maybe I can get out of my rut, but I have yet to have a day where I can do that and not get behind in my work.

It’s like I am living in this vicious cycle right now.  I had that same age-old argument with my mother in which she tells me I need to get a corporate job.  When this occurs I feel like I am the whack-a-mole game at Chuck-e Cheese and my mother is the whacker.  Today I told her she had to stop this behavior.  That these arguments drive me into a depression in which I can not accomplish anything.  My mother claims that I don’t hear her and if I would only just listen one time she would feel okay.

Of course she has not changed her story for the past 20 years in which she claims I would be happier if I gave up the arts for the security of a corporate job.  I really don’t think she is aware of the economic crisis facing the US and that the idea of her almost 50-year-old daughter competing in the corporate world with a liberal arts degree is really fantasy on her part.

You see she thinks I would be happy if I would just make the choices that she would make for herself.  But we are not the same person.  Where my mother needs financial security and routine in order to feel safe I am the opposite.  Routine stifles me.  I need adventure and change.  She does not like to drive because she is afraid of where she will wind up.  I, on the other hand thrive on finding new places and things to see.

peacefulness and serenity are the markers of my happiness.  Quietness and stillness are what I crave in my home, which is the opposite of my childhood which was replete with noise and at times violence.

But the bottom line is that I feel like a zombie and being whacked over the head with that invisible hammer that my mother uses on me does not help.

I want to write inspiring posts that move and motivate others to somehow help to make their lives better.

I don’t just want to write about what is going wrong in my life.

I know my mother is concerned about my future but I really wish she would just stop and accept my life as it is.

I am one of 99% in this country without health insurance so I am trying to deal with my health issues organically through diet and vitamins.  I am not quite 50 but my body has been acting as if I am older.  I am amazed that I am even writing this post but it has been on my mind for a while to post an update on my journey towards self discovery and fulfillment.

I don’t buy into you are getting older and everything starts to fall apart but at this moment that feels like a battle that my mind is losing and my body is winning…..I need to dig deep into my soul and call upon my higher self to pull me out of this one………

The Big, Aha………clarity at last….

 

The inception of this blog marked my desire to reunite with my soul mate.

I have done ritual.  I have done therapy, prayer and vision boards…and yet he has not appeared.

There has been a block, an obstacle an impediment to this reunification.   And in earnest desire I have asked the god/goddess/the universe/my higher self to please reveal this barrier that I may heal.

And yet all that came up in therapy was anger towards my dad.  Really, again…I mean haven’t I done enough work on my father issues. I have spent more money on therapy only to come up with the same issue.  It is quite tiring to ask different questions and yet keep coming up with the same answer.

And yet there it was…the elephant in the room…I still have so much anger at my father.  I thought I had forgiven him when he came out to see my sister after her cancer diagnosis..but no I am still angry.

Why, why was I still so angry?  I am tired of being angry at my father.  In our culture anger is something negative, makes you less than, stunts you emotionally. 

But what I have come to learn is that anger serves an important function.  Anger is a marker and what it marks is that there is still something that has yet to be discovered by the conscious mind, that is the key to the healing process.

This past week my father and my half-brother, along with his new wife and six month old son took a road trip out to visit various people.  My sister and I were one of the stops.

My father stayed behind with me while my brother went on to Ventura.

My brother called Monday afternoon to let my father know that the car had broken down and he would be delayed in picking him up.

I was working out of my mother’s home that day, but working none the less.

My father asked me if I would drive him to Ventura. I said no.  It was not necessary.  It was either the battery or the starter.  I got online found a Pep boys within a mile of where the car.

The other thing to note is that my brother was in the town where he grew up, surrounded by aunts, uncles, cousins and friends that he grew up with.

There was no need for my father to be driven up..it’s not like he could work on the car and there was no dire emergency.

When I said no he asked me if he should ask my sister.  Absolutely not I said.  This is the same sister who has cancer, is undergoing cancer treatments twice a week, and has three kids.

The drive back for both my sister and I would be about three hours.

I was astounded that he could even ask us to so disrupt our lives and inconvenience us, WHEN THERE WAS NO REAL EMERGENCY, my brother is a 32-year-old man, who was in the airforce for eight years, with a wife and a child.  He should be quite capable of handling a dead battery on his own without my father holding his hand.

At one point my father even said, that he would already have been in Ventura if not for me.  I could not believe what I was hearing.

And this anger, this anger that I have been feeling for the past few months, that I was trying to ignore, repress, hoped would go away…rose to the surface like a once dormant volcano now alive and in full force.

The next day when my father asked me how many times did he need to apologize for the things he did when married to my mother, the volcano erupted.  It is not about the past.  I have had enough therapy to deal with the past. 

It is about the present.  It is about what happened the day before.  It is about the fact that he had been willing to disrupt my life and my sister for his son, the golden child.

You see my father  financially abandoned us at the ages of 14 and 16, when the divorce occured…..and emotionally abandoned us when his son was born, less than a year later.  Two years later he moved to Ventura and eventually moved out of state.

So, you see it was not so much about the past, but the fact that nothing had changed in the present.

My father was chosing his son over his daughters yet again.

My father would choose his mistresses over his wife and daughters.

There is a common theme that runs throughout all of my relationships and that is that my boyfriends, lovers and even my ex-husband have all put a job, relative or other woman before me.  I was the second choice, not the first, certainly not the priority.

I have a girlfriend that many times has said to me, ” Do not make someone a priority in your life when you are only an option in theirs”…..God how I have hated her for saying that.

And it was in the midst of that volcanic eruption when I called my father out on his behavior that the “aha” occurred and I finally connected my father’s behaviors and treatment with the men that I had chosen.

The answer that I had been seeking was finally revealed.

Classic psychology…. I picked men who treated me like my father because I wanted to win and be the chosen one.  But it never works that way..you never win that game.

But that “aha” moment was the win.  I chose ME. … I chose ME…I chose ME.

It is my hope that in realizing this I can let go of this subconscious desire to be the chosen one of two and that I can finally meet the man who will pick me just because I am ME………

                                                  

Judgement Day

 

Ok, all joking aside…today was supposed to be the end of the world “Judgement Day” but guess what? 

Every day is judgement day.

Every day, every moment, every thought,every word we utter creates our judgment day in the here and now. 

And how do you know what your judgment is? 

Just look around you and what do you see? 

What do your finances look like? 

What do your relationships look like? 

You see we make judgements every moment of the day by thought, word or feelings and those judgments are reflected in the reality we have created. 

 Are you creating joy or love or are you creating hate or sadness?

So, tell me what have you created today?

InFidelity….

We interrupt the normally scheduled programing to bring you the latest news on yet another man in the public who has cheated on wife.

Just as Tyger Woods was probably relieved when Jessie James got outed for cheating on Sandra, I am sure Jessie James is relieved that Schwartznegger is now in the media spotlight for his indiscretions.

I remember when President Clinton was exposed thinking that it was nobody’s business, that it was between himself and his wife and should remain a private matter.  I have since have had a change of thought. 

In my religious studies class we were looking at the work of MLK, Jr., specifically one of his sermons on “Loving your enemy”, at the time that Bin Laden was killed and I thought his words were rather appropriate for the present day.

And then the professor mentions to the class that MLK, Jr. had numerous affairs.  I was aghast and personally affronted.  As a woman I lost some respect for the man.  There he is preaching love your enemy, truth, justice and equality for all and yet he was cheating on his wife?  And he was a pastor!!!

He did not just cheat on his wife but also his children and every person that believed in him and has taken his words to heart.  He cheated on me, just as Clinton cheated on me, just as Tyger cheated on every one of his fans who believed in him, just as Jessie James cheated on his fans and Mr. Schwartznegger cheated on his fans.

They cheated on their families.  They cheated on their children.  Just like my father cheated on my sister and me every time he cheated on my mother.

When are we as a society going to stop condoning this behavior that not only rips apart families but also tears apart our society.  It is not gay marriage that destroys the sanctity of marriage but gross infidelities on the part of heterosexuals.

It is the lack of the sanctity of marriage that destroys marriage.  I do not think we need divorce reform.  I believe what is needed is marriage reform.

Marriage has become a socially accepted form of prostitution when in reality marriage should be a sacred partnership that is undertaken by two people on the path to spiritual completeness and wholeness.

So, for those of you that have cheated on your spouse, either male or female, you cheated not only on them but on your children and on me as well.

You took a public vow of fidelity and you failed to keep those vows made before your family and friends.

Please let us make marriage sacred again.

What do you all think out their in the cyber world?  Is infidelity a private matter or does it somehow affect all of us in the spiritual realm?

….Graduation approaches…..

I turned in my completed, approved, reviewed, and improved thesis…yeah…I picked up my graduation robe, hood and cap….more yeahs….I have two finals to get through next week and then the week after that I get to graduate.

It has been four years but I finally will have my Masters in Religious Studies…..Hopefully I will get to publish lots of interesting books and scripts….in the mean time I bought a pink van for my party biz.  It is a 1978 dodge ram and I feel like Barbie riding around in it,..well a rather ethnic, older, brunette Barbie.

And I have a crush on a much younger guy (what else is new).  Younger guys are my Achilles heel..well fantasies are fun..at least I know certain parts of me still work…maybe a little out of practice but still work.

An aspect of being in balance is completing school so that I can focus on other aspects of my life.

Truly, more than anything else I want to meet my soulmate, my life partner.  I want a guy to walk along the beach with me and Missy at sunset.  I want that special someone to cuddle at night with and just sit on the chaise, eating white cheddar cheese popcorn and drinking Smirnoff Mango Ice as we watch DVD‘s.

It sounds so simple doesn’t it?  I guess it really is actually.

So, if any of you out there know of any single, blue-eyed, single men who loves to travel, the beach and dogs…hmnn send him my way……

love to you all, and now for some dark chocolate…….

Balance….

 

                                

As my readers know balance is not exactly a part of the vocabulary of my life.

The men that have been in my life have not been in balance with who I really am.

Mentally, I am way out of balance.

Physically, I am out of balance as well.

I eat dark chocolate to balance to my broken,mended, taped up, stapled up heart.

I take little blue pills to balance the nuero-circuits in my brain.

And I take another pill which is supposed to balance out my thyroid.

All of these external attempts at balance which really only address symptoms and not causes.

My goal for the summer is to be in balance, holistically and spiritually.

It is only when we are in balance body-mind-spirit, that we can truly express our divine self on the planet.

It is then when we can fulfill our divine purpose.

There is much to be done to get human self in alignment with my higher spiritual self.  It is a path upon which I have embarked upon many times and it is a path upon which I have stumbled many times.

So, here I go again attempting to embrace a higher life, which at the end of it will hopefully serve some greater purpose besides myself………

…little blue pills…again

Back in October I decided to stop taking my little blue pills.

I had gotten a notice that the rent on my workshop space was going up by $300.00 and I needed to make cuts in my budget.

Well, I didn’t need those little blue pills, at least that is what I thought.  They cost $30.00 a month, since I don’t have health insurance.

Besides I did not want to rely on them for the rest of my life, after all, they were supposed to be a temporary fix..and I felt better.

So, where am I six months later?

I have been on the ledge of a dark precipace..staring into the darkness…clinging to my sanity..telling myself not to go there…but I slipped and into the rabbit hole I fell…..

…and darkness…despair….fear..anxiety…..embraced me..like a warm blanket in the cold…..

I failed…….so back to the blue pills we go…

there is a part of me that is fighting to be alive…that so desperately wants to experience joy..love…a life well lived…..but she has to be bigger than the darkness and sadness……and I don’t know how to do that without those little blue pills, that I have come to hate because it means that there is something so wrong with me……that death is often times more appealing to me than life…..

Happy Heart Day !!!!!!

Feb 14th seems to be a day that has come to be filled with dread (mostly it seems by men), anticipation and expectations (mostly woman), and a sense of being excluded (mostly single women).

Valentine’s Day although has been construed as a creation of the marketing media of ages past is really a oppurtunity that we all seem to by forgetting.

It is not a day to dread, or have unearthly expectations nor is it a day to feel forgotten and excluded if you are not partnered up.

What it can be, maybe should be, is a day to remind us that if we have been forgetful throughout the year to express love and caring Feb. 14th serves as a reminder that we as a society have a day in which we can make up for some of the forgetfulness that we may have committed throughout the year.

Men complain that Valentine’s Day takes away the opportunity for them to be spontaneous.  Hmnn really? What I say to all of those men out there is, “how many opportunities have you taken throughout the year to express love and affection in a romantic, galant way?”

Yeah, I thought so. So, instead of complaining about Feb. 14th, why not say, “Gee aren’t I lucky that I get a social reminder to express my love!”

I have taken quite a few seminars on how women should understand how men feel about Val’s Day and we should lower our expectations.  Hmnn , what I say to that is, men why don’t you get it that if a woman has to remind you that her birthday, anniversary or another special date is coming up..you don’t get as many points and we don’t appreciate it as much if we had to remind you.

But the creator goddess is so wonderful that she created a holiday, albeit with enough commercialism that unless you lived in a cave somewhere you would not forget it was Val’s  Day.

How wonderful, a special day in which to show you care without the women having to remind you.

You see the funny thing about Val’s Day is that we should not save our displays of love and affection for just one day.  Whether you are in a relationship or not Val’s Day should be every day of your life.

The one consistent message which the great sages and avatars have always brought to humanity is to love one another.

Love should be expressed every day in many ways to all those we come into daily contact with.

Not only should we be expressing love to those around us, we should be expressing love for our very self.

So rather than hating on Valentine’s Day due to its commercialism and seemingly forced affections take it to be a reminder that the greatest message given to humanity has been “to love one another as yourself”.

So, go out and buy yourself one of those chocolate hearts and a happy heart day!!! 

girlie girl……

 ”I love being a girlie girl, but I spend so much time having to be a man, that I sometimes forget to be a girlie girl around you, so please be my hero man so I can be a girlie girl for you……”

The conundrum of the modern woman is that in order to be a success in the career world we have to become men.  We become independent, we do things for ourselves and we develop a tough shell.  But who wants to caress a tough shell.  Men have a need for the softness of the feminine.  That is not to say that all that is feminine is pink and girlie.  For me it is.  It is when I am dressed up-made-up-perfumed up–looking like a doll- that I am the most in touch with my feminine side-my soft side.

Every woman has her own version of what defines feminine.  It does not matter what it looks like on the outside because that is a varied as there are women on the planet.

But what it looks like on the inside is pretty much the same.

It is when we are at our most vulnerable. It is when we have the potential t o feel like we are in the most danger–that we are not safe. 

And what makes most any woman feel that way is when we relinquish control and trust that our other will keep us safe, that our partner-date-husband-boyfriend- will protect us from the deadly tiger at the door.

Now don’t get me wrong I am perfectly capable of dealing with the tiger at the door, but when I am in that mode I am most definitely not in my feminine mode.  I am not relaxing–my mind is going full speed ahead, because I am not going to wait untill the tiger is at the door to have my plan.  My plan will be in action.  And that may look like the laundry has to be done first—my work needs to get done–the bills need to get–I have to fix dinner–because you see these are my modern-day tigers.

And when I am in fighting tiger mode–It is not pretty.  It is do not get in my way and do not become an obstacle because if you are not fixing the problem then you are the problem and I don’t care if I am fat-haven’t taken a shower-and don’t even think about sex—-thank you very much.

Tiger mode means that I can’t trust anyone or have any one else to take care of me.

But that isn’t really who I am. 

Inside I am that little girl who loves to wear pink-fancy jewlery-smell yummy and enticing and wants to have a knight in shining armor to battle some of the dragons and tigers at the door.

I want to feel safe.  I want to know that you can slay the dragons and tigers in the event I just don’t want to or I am too tired.

Every now and then all I want to think about is how pretty I can be for you and how much I just want to adore you.

So please be my hero-man so I can just be a girlie girl every now and then.

2010 in review

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.

Crunchy numbers

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 3,600 times in 2010. That’s about 9 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 37 new posts, not bad for the first year! There were 64 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 33mb. That’s about 1 pictures per week.

The busiest day of the year was May 12th with 95 views. The most popular post that day was …. ¡OH NO !, he DIDN’T (snap …snap…).

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, mail.yahoo.com, WordPress Dashboard, mail.live.com, and datingandmatinginamerica.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for Pandora’s box, little blue pills, Pandora’s box, sad silhouette, and baby coffin.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

…. ¡OH NO !, he DIDN’T (snap …snap…) May 2010
14 comments

2

…little blue pills…… May 2010
12 comments

3

All About Ivonne January 2010
7 comments

4

Ivonne’s Pix May 2010
1 comment

5

What does a soul mate feel like? February 2010
3 comments

Merry Christmas !!!!!!

 

This post goes out to all of my readers.  May you have a happy and joyous and blessed holiday.

Thank you for reading me and giving me a voice.  Thank you for all of the words of encouragement you have given me.

Little updates, my sister had her first round of chemo four weeks ago with no side effects other than fatigue.  She has her second round this week.  We are hoping all continues to go well.

I have a completed draft of my thesis but it has not been approved yet.  I am still working on revisions–hence whyI have not been writing posts.

This year has certainly had its challenges.  I look forward to a 2011 that is filled with happiness, joy, love and prosperity.

May you and yours be blessed in the coming year.

lots of luv,

Ivonne and Missy

“C” is for Cancer……

 

…and Cancer is a c**t.   About three weeks ago my younger sister got diagnosed with breast cancer, stage 1.  After her surgery she got upped to stage 3 because they found cancer in her lymph nodes.  My brother-in-law almost passed out in front of his kids and my mother went into the hallway and started to cry and yell, “Why couldn’t it be me(meaning herself)”.  I was on the phone with my father giving him the update and telling him he needed to get on a plane and come see my sister.

My sister was always the good kid-never got into trouble-never talked back was always shy and quiet.  I on the other hand was the black sheep, always getting into trouble.

I have contemplated suicide–I did not understand why she got the cancer, she has three teen age kids.  She has high school graduations and college graduations and weddings to attend to.  I don’t have any of that.  I thought it should be me, because I have less to live for.

My sister has always been the kind of person never to complain about physical pain.  She is much stronger than me in that regard.  So, to see my sister in pain and thinking she is going to die and making me promise to look after her kids was very hard to experience.

Cancer is a funny thing because it does not just change or effect the person with the cancer but others as well.  A dear friend of mine lost the last two years of her mother’s life because they were not speaking.  All of that changed when her mother got diagnosed. 

The past seemed to have gone away.  And I did not really understand that……until the day I picked my father up at the airport.  The past didn’t really matter…what he did or did not do.  What mattered was that he got on a plane and had come out to see my sister.  I picked him up and drove him to my sister’s house.

He started crying and asked my sister for forgiveness.  She started crying and I left the room because that was there moment.

Throughout our childhood my mother and her family always made my dad out to be the bad guy.  It is hard growing up surrounded by people who think badly of your father.

As you all know my father has not been a saint by no means or stretch of the imagination.  However, the stories have always been one-sided.

This time around I got to hear his side of the story.  Of course, I double checked everything he said with my mother who confirmed that he was indeed speaking the truth.  I can not disclose what he said because it is my parents story to tell but needless to say it does change my prior perceptions.

On the drive back my father asked me for forgiveness.  I said to him, “I’ll tell you the same thing I told my mother.  I am not upset about the past or what happened in childhood.  I get upset about the things that happen in present day”.

I had already forgiven him on the day I had picked him up at the airport…..

Unruly kids and Yappy dogs…….

 

My two biggest pet peeves are unruly kids in public and yappy dogs on 25 ft. retractable leashes.

This morning after having gotten a tetanus shot because I had gotten bitten by a neighbor’s dog this past weekend I decided to stop at an outlet store and do a little shopping.

There were two little girls ages about 3 and 4 playing with toys on the floor at the end of an aisle blocking the aisle.  So in order to get to the aisle you had to manuever around the two little girls.

And then the banshee like screaming starts.  Five minutes later still screaming…..10 more minutes, still screaming………15 minutes, still screaming and no parental intervention.

At the 20 minute mark I could not take it any more.  I walked out of the aisle and asked this woman to please attend to her child.

Before I continue let me describe this women, early 20′s Latina woman , with dyed blond hair, blue eyes, which I am guessing since the hair was fake most likely so were the eyes, on the chubby side wearing leggings and a tight t-shirt.  Now that you have the picture in your mind, I shall continue.

She immediately got ghetto on me….I am talking hand on the hips, head swirling ghetto.  She started calling me a bitch and a few other expletives.  And told me that she knew what was wrong with her child. I believe my response was, “well in that case why don’t you control her. My mother had rules for public behavior when I was a child”.

She then said, “There’s the front door.  Why don’t you leave the store. And I am not you”.  My response was, “Obviously and I walked away”.  I believe I muttered something like Jesus Christ under my breath at which point ghetto mom walked back to the aisle I was in, hand on hips and stared at me, as if that was going to make me leave the store.

I thought this woman was going to hit me and I almost wish she had because then I would have called the cops, she would have gotten arrested and child social services would have picked up her kids.

She eventually walked away…….she eventually said to her child, “stop whining”.

Why did it take a 20 minute tantrum and a total stranger asking this woman to deal with her child before she did anything?

My mother had rules and every time before we set foot out the front door she would remind us of the behavior that was expected of us in public places.  Why do people think that it is ok for their child/brat to disturb the peace of others in public places?

My dog is not allowed in stores (exception Petco).  My dog is not allowed in restaurants or to fly beside me on a plane.  And yet my 60 lb dog is better behaved than most people’s kids.

I can guarantee you that my dog will not be disruptive inside a store, a restaurant or on an airplane.

Can you say the same of your kids?  Granted not all dogs are well-behaved or trained either.  That’s my next big pet peeve.  Small yappy dogs, totally out of control on a 25 ft retractable leash charging and barking at my 60 lb dog.  Are they nuts? Do they have some kind of death wish?

People control your dogs.  I can not just pick up my 60 lb dog and hold it in my arms in the event of a problem.  No, I had to train my dog.  Please do the same with yours because the next time one of your yappy, rat dogs comes charging at my dog I will not tell her to sit and stay, quite the contrary I will tell her to go for it.  Hmnn, maybe then you might train your unruly dogs.

So if you see some woman out in public telling a parent to control their child, it will probably be me.

If we all took a stand on such disruptive behavior maybe some of these parents might just get a clue…………

Ode to Diamond

 

 

Diamond is my black cat.  He passes away today around 5:30 pm pacific standard time, in my arms.

He was also known as “fat cat” because he loved to eat.  I finally put him on a diet about a year ago because he looked like he was going to explode like a balloon he had gotten so huge.

So, when I noticed a couple of days ago that he wasn’t eating I thought something was wrong.

Well flash back  to last Wed I noticed none of the cats were eating their dry food.  I checked the container of food it was contaminated by something that looked like small animal feces.  I checked the plastic container for holes, none to be found…still a mystery.

Replaced the food with brand new food and then noticed a couple of days ago that Diamond was not eating it.

Cats being what they are this is not unusal…it just means that you have to find a new brand of food.  I went out and brought other food, which he ate just a little bit.  Then I stared noticing that he wasn’t really eating his canned food, just licking the sauce.

So around 2:00 pm today I made an appointment for the vet for 11:00 am tomorrow.  They did have an opening today at 4:00 pm but I opted for the morning.  i am glad I did that because if my appointment was at 4:00 pm with the unusual waiting and what not, and then they take them away for x-rays I am imagining that my cat would have passed away amongst strangers which is what happened with my Dog Topaz and to this day it haunts me.

Diamond at least took his last breath in my arms…….I hope he is in heaven with Amber and Topaz.  He has not seen Topaz for five years and he has not seen Amber for three years.  I hope that they are having a happy re-union………….as for me…well I have a dead cat lying on a pet bed in the living room……

Pandora’s Box …Part Five

 

Yesterday my mother told me that she hated her life and did not want to be alive. She said she didn’t have the guts to do it so she asked her husband to shoot her in the head while she slept.  (She must be off of her meds.)

I told her he couldn’t do that because he would go to jail.  She said, “that’s what he said”.

My mother continued to tell me that she told my aunt to tell us (my sister and I) that if she was suddenly to tell us that she was happier.

I told her I already thought that.  I don’t know how I am going to feel when my mother passes away but I do know that I will think,” Well, I hope she is finally happy and at peace”.

I grew up under my mother’s black cloud.  As a little girl all I ever heard was how my mother felt like an 80-year-old woman and how she did not want to be alive.

What do you do with that?  I have often wondered what my life would be like if I had a happy, joyful mother.  Three weeks ago I told my sister that I thought our mother should be committed to a hospital, that she needs to be severely medicated and in therapy.  A friend told me that she can’t be committed unless she becomes a harm to herself or others.

She is a harm to me right now.  I am fighting for my emotional sanity.  I am fighting to complete my thesis.  I am fighting to rebuild my life.  I am fighting not to sink into a depression that will take me to the edge of suicide.  And I don’t know how I can be around my mother and do all of that.

I feel like I am 16 years old again, laying in bed, under the covers pretending to be asleep until it was safe to get up, until the yelling and screaming subsided.

I found a place to move my business out of my mother’s garage and she thinks it’s an awful place. It isn’t. It is a great place but she has never had a word of encouragement to say to me, ever.

I can not do this anymore.  I can no longer be that 16-year-old teenager who is tiptoeing around her mother’s emotional outbursts.

After she said that she had told her husband to shoot her she started ranting and raving about the internet and people exposing their lives for everyone to see.  She was talking about facebook and the fact that my sister allows her kids to be on facebook.  OMG, if she knew about this blog I would never hear the end of it.

She thinks she knows me, but how can she know me when I can not reveal to her how I really feel or think about anything?

She has always treated me differently than my sister.  My sister got off really easy.  I always seemed to be the scape goat.  I think part of the problem is that I look just like my mother.  I am a mini-me of my mom. She says things like, ” I don’t want you to make the same mistakes that I did”, to which my reply is usually, “They are ‘MY’ mistakes and not yours”.

My mother has always lived her life in fear of everything.  I made a conscious decision as a teenager never to live life like that.

No one makes good choices based on fear.

I think my mother should get into therapy for herself so that she can face her demons and try to be happy. But I don’t think that is possible.

My mother has made choices based on what she thought is morally right and correct.  The thing is there is only one way to do things, my mother’s way.  Any other way is just wrong.  She says she does not have a problem.  The problem is with the people that she is around.  If she could be alone she would not have problems.

So, in order for therapy to be effective my mother would have to admit that she has been wrong on the occasion.  And she can not do that.  I think she would rather be right and miserable than wrong and happy.

I have to get off this emotional rollercoaster before I feel compelled to shoot myself in the head…………

Pandora’s Box, Part 4….the ungrateful child……

 

The ungrateful child, that would be me.  At least that is what I am questioning lately. ¿Am I just an ungrateful child–oblivious to what my parents have done for me?

There have been some horrific things that have occurred but I am not living in the past.

I have told my sister, it is not about the past, it is about the things that still occur in the present.

Should I forget about the mistress I spent the day with because my father gave me money to help me produce a play or a short film?

Should I forget about the things my mother has done (soon to be a future post) because she paid for my lasik eye surgery?

Do I forget the emotional hurts just because my parents have tried to make up for it through material things?

I am grateful that my mother helps (undermines) me with my business, but it hurts to have heard her say that the reason she finally agreed to go on the trip to Hawaii that I paid for was because it was the “least evil”.

Do we let material things make up for the sense of loss, hurt and abandonment that we have experienced?

I don’t have the answer but I feel like I am somehow an ungrateful child because I can not, at least in this moment get beyond the hurt.

Funny thing is that I told my mom I got the Hawaii vacation to show her that I am grateful for what she has done to help me and her response was, “material things do not make up for emotional hurts”………

…Missy’s Malaise aka Three Dog Night…..

 

Actually it was just one white dog with diarrhea, which is the equivalent of a three dog night.

So around 8:00 pm my neighbor notices that my dog has diarrhea.  Great, that’s just what I want to hear.  I am hoping it is a temporary situation.  Walk the dog at 2:00 am, still diarrhea.  Did I mention she is a white dog?

We go to bed, me on mine, she on hers.  I usually sleep better with the dog next to me but given her current physical malaise I did not coax her into my bed.

It’s a little bit before 5:00 am  and I awake to this rancid odor. She must have pooped in the living room, I thought. 

Dear God, it’s 5:00 am I just do not want to deal with this.  I roll over thinking I deal with it in the morning. Oh, by the way, she is now sleeping on the pillow next to me. I get up and decide to go to the bathroom.  I unknowingly find it, step in it.

Not in the living room, in the hallway.  My socks are covered in it.  I turn on the lights there it is. A yellow-brownish river flowing through the hallway.  Like it or not I now have to deal with it.

I can’t blame her it’s not her fault.  It might even be my fault. I ran out of dog food and instead of going to Target I decide to go to the corner 7/11.  In all likely hood I only have my lazy butt to blame. 

The thing is the day before I had left my purse/wallet/money/atm/license at my mom’s place in Granada Hills(about 70 miles from me), so the least amount of driving the better.

My badd, my badd, my badd…my dog, my dog, my dog…..

 I start to clean up the mess. I call out to her, Hey Missy let’s go for a walk.  She is not budging off of my bed.  I have to grab her by the collar and drag her poop laden butt off of the bed.  Then there’s the pillow she was sleeping on, a part of my comforter, a blanket…thank good I had a towel on my pillow from washing my hair.

 I walk the dog at 5:00 am and this lethal brown liquid just shoots out of her.  Did I mention she has white fur?  I get a wash cloth and shampoo and start cleaning her off at 5:00 am.  Truly the dedicated actions that only a mother would do.  My dog is confused, she does not understand and she hates water.

 Back inside to deal with the bed.  Needless to say there is a lot of laundry to be done tomorrow.  My dog’s bed get put into the living room.  The bedroom doors are closed.  My dog is standing in front of the bedroom door, expectations in her eyes.  She looks at me, she looks at the door as if to say what gives?

 She has never been banned from the bedroom before, not in all her five years and it’s her Birthday month.  She is very spoiled, however, I had to draw the line at the possibility of more diarreah on my bed.  Disgusting isn’t it?

 Morning comes, she still has diarrhea.  I cook her white rice, in the hopes it will cure her of this disingenuous malaise.  Problem is, my dog is fussy.  She only eats my mothers, spicy Puerto Rican Rice, she does not even eat chinese rice or Puerto Rican rice made by other people.  She only eat’s abuela’s rice.  It has been three hours since the rice was put in her bowl and it’s till there.  I have done 2 loads of laundry with 2 more to go.

 The dog is calmly sleeping on one of her dog bed’s in the living room. She has three–I said she was spoiled, right?

 I should probably wake her up and take her for a walk before the cycle starts again.

I am anxiously looking for a solid poop.  Those are the little things that bring joy into the day of a mom.  Things like solid poop and eating your food.  I don’t think you realize the anxiety a woman goes through when a dog/cat/baby does not eat, untill you have one.

Ok, I am not being sexist.  Maybe men feel the same way but that is not the impression I have gotten over the years.  I can’t exactly picture my ex-husband cleaning a dog’s butt with a wash cloth.

(Mental note do not use said wash cloth to remove make-up ever again.)

….did I mention the cat who refuses to use the litter box?……

Pandora’s Box: “Ode to Manny”….part three

This morning while taking a shower I started thinking and asking myself why is it that after all these years with all the things that have happened to me, why is it that now I asked my doctor to put me on antidepressants?

And then it hit me…Manny is gone.  After battling four different kinds of cancer and winning those battles, it was the fifth cancer that was too much for him.  I thought he would win that battle just like the others and we continued to make plans to go to Spain and I encouraged him to write and work on his book, his memoirs.

Manny passed away on Dec 27, 2008, while I was having my Christmas party.  I kind of like to think that he didn’t want to miss it and was their in spirit.

We met while working on the T.V. show “L.A. Law”.  We became great friends.

Manny was from Cuba, the pre-Castro Cuba, with servants and big mansions and parties.  We had talked about going to Cuba as well.

We shared Salsa music, fried plantains, mofongo, guavas and crazy latina mothers.

He directed the play I wrote, “Juan Y Rosa, La Virgen and Flan”.

He is the one who pointed out to me that I accomplish more when I am not in a relationship…and he was right.  We all have that one person that we can bare our soul to, that one person that can tell us like it is and we listen.

Manny, was that person for me.  He was the one person I could tell everything to and he never judged me, nor I him.

He was my soul mate, my best friend, my therapist, my personal cheerleader,…my beloved friend.

Manny hated the hypocrisy of funerals.  He hated t see people crying and boo-hooing yet they weren’t there when the person was alive and he wanted none of that.

So, there was no funeral, no memorial.  He was cremated and I did not get to mourn him properly.

And that is why I take those little blue pills, because my go-to guy is gone.

And this morning my tears joined the water flowing down my body as I realized that and I cried out to my friend, “Manny, I miss you and I hope you are watching over me…..”

Pandora’s Box ….part two

 

My mother tells me that I need to write a letter to my dad telling him how I feel to get it off of my chest.

My sister tells me that I need to write a letter to my mom telling her how I feel to get it off my chest.

My sister wrote a letter to my brother telling it all…as of yet he has not responded.

My sister wrote a letter to my dad telling it all and he denies it all.

I’m not sure if my dad is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s or merely has selective memory.

Somehow writing a letter does not seem to be enough, especially considering the response and lack of response my sister has already received from my father and brother.

Oh to clarify my sister and I are from the first marriage, my brother is from the second marriage.

Somehow it seems that when my father divorced my mother he also divorced my sister and I, at least that is the way it feels to us.

Both of us have said to our brother that even though we have the same biological father we had different dads.

We had the same dad but not the same dad.

So writing a letter that most likely will be ignored is not enough for me.

I want to out him.  I want to out him to my brother and all his friends and all of my father’s friends that think that he is a great father/person/husband.

I want them to know he was an awful husband and an absentee father.  He was their physically but not emotionally.

My stepmother, who by the way is only eight years older than me asked me shortly after her marriage if the rumors about my father cheating on my mother were true. Ah, rumors….they were not rumors and I know first hand.

What do you say about a man who brings a strange blonde woman and her eight year old son to the house while mom is away looking after her sick mother, and says to his eight and six-year-old daughters, that this strange blonde and her son is your new mom and brother?

They were not rumors.  He had the audacity to bring his mistress around his young daughters.

The rumor that he used to hit my mother, that two was not a rumor.

The night that he brought a gun into our home, shortly after the divorce, saying that he was going to kill all of us, that is not a rumor.  That is one of my sister’s nightmares. I was not home that night.  I was at school rehearsing a play.  But I can guarantee you that neither my sister or my mother are lying.

That man is not my father.

My dad is the man I would excitedly wait for after work.  He always brought me some little toy or candy that he picked up on the subway ride home.  I remember chocolate cigarette and pop-corn balls, and cracker jack boxes.

My dad is the man who used to draw superheroes on my sister’s and my arms, years before face painting came into vogue.

My dad is the man who I saw run after some thugs who had just robbed and beat my grandfather at the age of five.

My dad is the man who carried me to the hospital and  who held me as doctors put 10 stitches into my cracked head when I was six.

That is my dad, but I don’t know where he went.  And I miss that dad but he disappeared a long time ago, long before the divorce.

I can’t help it that I look just like my mom……but I miss my Daddy.

And the anger is so great because the hurt is so deep…..

Pandora’s Box…the effects of therapy….

 

 

The lid to the Pandora’s box of my psyche had been lifted and opened during my last set’s of therapy.

Hence, why I have not posted in a while because I have been processing.

Therapy can get redundant. I mean I go in this time to figure out what are the underlying-subconscious issues that are sabotaging my fertility and little did I expect for the same old-shit to come up.

Really, I just paid $800.00 (no heath insurance) to discover that I still have repressed anger at my dad, my mom, really?!!!!!

You’ve got to be kidding me. No, we are not kidding.  Anger, sadness, guilt-you name it, festers in the body, usually becomes some kind of cancer or dis-ease if not lived, experienced and purged from the body.

Turning the other cheek really does not work.  You can’t just let something go until you really feel all the hurt that belies the anger-guilt frustration etc…  If you are not feeling the love there is hurt somewhere that needs to be released.

But it was not childhood anger that I was feeling. It is recent anger from just four years ago. 

And maybe I will post my exposé/anger/grief in another post, but for now we will skip the details because they could incriminate me.

And to be fair and democratic mother is not guiltless either, but we will save that for the book.

Let’s just say I have spent the past couple of months reliving-remembering-releasing and most importantly realizing.

I realized I was tired, so damn tired.  Tired of being hurt.  Tired of being angry.  Tired of being physically tired because of all these emotions that were weighting-yes weighting me down (yet another future post).

I decided I was just done.  I have had enough. I am done giving my money away for therapy to always come up with the same answer–that I am still feeling hurt over something my mother-father-brother-ex-lover-ex-husband-ex-friend–you name it said or did to me.

I just got tired writing that.  That was the realization.

That is when I realized the meaning of “release and let go” as written about by great sages and mystics.  What Jesus really meant by “turning the other cheek”, what Buddha meant by not having “your emotions control you”.

If you hold onto the anger, the only person you really hurt is yourself.

And life goes on, and the people around you go on and yet there you are stuck in the muck and mire of your mind.

How many times, have we not read or at least I have read about forgiveness, releasing and letting go.

Funny thing is that this is not an intellectual idea.  I have always gotten it intellectually but I never felt it before.

It is hard to describe just what this feeling is. All I can say is that I was tired of being tired and hurt and in that moment a burden was lifted and I was compelled to book a trip to Hawaii instead (with my mom no less), I think to learn more about the healing practice of Ho’Opono…..to be continued

…What was I thinking? !!!

 

We have all been there, that glorious part of a break-up where all the effects of oxytocin have worn off and the fantasy bubble finally burst.

It is like the sun bursting through the clouds after a storm, warm welcoming rays of light with iridescent rainbows in the background.

The moment we realize we are finally free and no longer a slave to the imagination inside of our hearts.

I finally got there. I finally got over Jackson!!!!  And all I can say to myself is, ” What the heck was I thinking”?

As as you travel through life you will discover that people who you thought were real, really weren’t…that they were fakes and phonies and the only thing that made them into real people was your belief in them…what you thought was the good in them and it turns out the good was only in your mind?

You see I thought Jackson was this great guy in the beginning, that I had seen his heart and maybe to some people he does have a heart (to be fair) but where I was concerned it was more like heart-less.

At first I was hurt.  I wanted to believe the three, count them three psychics that had said that he would be back.

And then I got angry.

I have gotten past the anger and now I am simply at, what was I thinking?

I think that there is a disconnect between the heart and brain when you think you care for someone based on imaginary factors.

I don’t know if guys do this but women certainly do.  We plan out a whole future based on a few dates, a few possibilities.

It is the imagination and heart run amuck.  The beauty of it is that this is a temporary condition, somewhat akin to temporary transient amnesia where one temporarily loses one’s mind in which all you can remember is nothingness.

And when you come out of that black void you ask yourself, what was I thinking?  That is when you know you have been cured and your heart now displays a vacant sign.

A vacant sign that hopefully the right man will occupy!!!

Pro-Life or Pro-Choice Part Five…guilt and grief.

Hypnotherapy is not what you imagine it to be.

I knew that physically my body was ready for a baby, that if I had gotten to the point of embryo it would have implanted.

So, what had gone wrong?  I very much believe in the mind-body connection and I began to question what had I missed.

In my research, in my fertility make-over what had I missed.

My miscarriage a year and half ago brought to the surface lots of repressed anger and guilt.  and Hence the previous posts on abortion because I knew they were all connected.

One day while looking for a c.d, a hypnosis c.d. fell off the shelf and into my hands.   The voice of intuition said that’s it.  That is the next step.

I thought it would be very simple, you get put under you straight to the subconscious mind figure out what’s wrong and record new tracks in the brain…well not so much.

There is much more work involved and is not the easy fix that I thought it would be.

What rose to the surface was guilt and grief.  Guilt about the abortion.  Grief about the abortion.

You see I have always hated Mother’s Day because every mother’s day was a reminder that I was no one’s mother.

Abortion does not qualify you the status of mother.  Logical of course, but when it comes to emotions logic does not really hold a place.

My disdain for mother’s day was holding the mourning that I have never been able to publically express.

In the time of mother goddess, we women had rituals.  We had rituals for birth, death, passages from one aspect of life to another.

But in this modern world they are gone.

You see my grief, my mourning is as real as a women who gave birth to a still born child.  I mourn the loss of my two babies due to abortion and my one child due to a miscarriage.

But the world does not acknowledge my loss or my pain.  Quite the contrary there are those who would call me a murderer, like my own sister.  And there are those who would say that I deserve my pain and that I brought it upon my self.  And at one point I think I also thought the same way.

But I know better now.  So, I publically say to the world, when I was younger I was not able to give birth to my children. I knew that I could not provide a life for them.  And that was a loss that I was not allowed to mourn.

But I will mourn the loss of my three babies now, whether or not you give me permission to.

I give myself permission.  I say to you my heart has cried the tears of a mother.  But there is no tombstone or grave to mark my loss other than the emptiness inside my heart.

You see the child that I have been trying to give birth to, I realize now has been me.  The real me, all of me, the part of me that has held the loss.

And there is anger as well.  It is amazing how you go into therapy thinking you are going to work on a particular issue and other emotions and things come at you from seemingly out of left field, like intense anger at my dad…….to be continued.

Pro-Life or Pro-Choice…Part Four

 

                            This is my embryo that I miscarried………

 

Part Four

For the past 2 ½ years I have been trying to get pregnant.  A single mother by choice I turned to assisted reproductive techniques.

I had two failed insemination and then I tried in vitro.  Any woman who has gone through this will tell you that it is a difficult and arduous process, especially if you are single and without a supportive partner.

January 2009 I had a positive pregnancy test but my beta levels were low.  I was told I had to come back in a couple of days and get retested.  My levels were lowered I was told to stop taking my medication.

 At the age of 48 I had produced three eggs, one of which fertilized and became an embryo.  I saw it on the ultrasound.  That was pretty amazing.  And the embryo attached to the uterus, which is why I got an initial positive test.  But then he stopped growing and I had a miscarriage.  I felt as if I was being punished for having had the abortion and that the baby that was wanted, that I knew I could take care of was taken from me.

My doctor was willing to try again in spite of my age because I had produced an embryo that had attached to the uterus.

I spent eight months doing acupuncture, changing my diet, detoxifying my body of chemicals that are known to cause infertility.  My acupuncturist was so confident that I would get pregnant and so was I or so I thought.

Well in the middle of this process I had started dating Jackson, and started to have doubts if I was doing the right thing. (Well you all know how it turned out with Jackson)

But the doubts had already crept into my mind.  And there is a mind-body connection.  What we think, what we feel produces chemicals and hormones in our body.  That is why they tell women who are stressing over getting pregnant to relax because the stress hormones that are released in the body do not aid in conception.

My doctor had changed the protocol, my mind was not sure and the result was I had produced not one viable egg, so no chance of an embryo.  I was devastated.

Physically everything should have worked.  But what did I miss?  What had I overlooked?  There had to be something, something in the psyche that had made my body say no to a baby.

I started having thoughts like, “maybe my uterus does not think it’s ok to carry a baby because I had the abortion”…… “maybe a little baby soul does not trust me to be it’s mother”.

You can make yourself go crazy trying to figure out why.

I had to find out what was in my subconscious.  What was in my mind that was making my body say no to a baby.

I turned to hypnotherapy….to be continued……

Pro-Life or Pro-Choice……Part Three

 

There was another abortion.  I would like to say that there had only been one but no, there had been a second abortion two or three years later.

I had broken up with the first boyfriend. He had the audacity to tell me that we “almost’ had a baby together. “ Really…did you just say that to me”.  How dare he?!  He did not have the right to say that to me when it was his choice not mine.

Well, boyfriend number two was an alcoholic but I did not know it.  I hadn’t’ known any alcoholics before him.  Breakfast for him was a beer and a joint.

Then the cocaine started.  One night he was so high that he came into the bedroom and started choking me.  I got away from him…grabbed my car keys and barefoot in my flannel pajamas drove to my mother’s home at 3:00 o’clock in the morning.  That was it I was done. 

Shortly after that I found out that I was pregnant.  There was no way I could have a baby with a man who was an alcoholic and addicted to drugs.   This was not what I had envisioned for the father of my child.

This abortion was done in the doctor’s office on a local anesthetic , which meant I felt it.  I felt the baby being ripped out of my body.

It haunts me to this day…….  to be continued……

Pro-Life or Pro-Choice….Part Two

 

PART  TWO

Women were having abortions left and right that day.  One woman was on her 7^th–abortion is not a form of birth control.  It felt like I was being part of a meat market that day.  There was no physical pain because I was put under….but the emotional scars I carry with me to this day.

I remember going to a restaurant with my then boyfriend and there was a baby in a high chair…I started crying I could not control myself.  For a long time every time I saw a baby or a pregnant woman I would start to cry. 

When my first nephew was born I went t the hospital but after my sister went home with her baby I could not bring myself to visit her.  I avoided her for at least a month.  This is the same sister who called me a murderer when I had my abortion. 

My mother of course, was upset that I had not seen my sister or nephew since the birth.  I just couldn’t.  I could not face her or the baby. But the day came when I could not avoid it any longer.  I told her that I was sorry that I had not been around and she said, “I know”.  She understood why I could not come around.  I did not think it was fair.  Why did she get to have her baby when I couldn’t?  This was my reasoning at the time, however illogical it may have been.

My child would have been twenty-eight years old.  It is hard to imagine being the mother of a twenty-eight year old or a twenty-six year old right now…..to be continued

Pro Life or Pro Choice……

PART ONE

Our country seems to be divided on this issue. But, Is it possible to be both pro-life and pro-choice?  I think so.   In order to explain that paradoxical statement I will have to tell you a story…my story….few people know this story.  It is something that is not easily shared with the world.

You see most people seem to think that when a woman makes a choice to have an abortion that it is done candidly and light-hearted.  And that once the act is committed you never think about it again…but that is not true.

My very first T.V acting job was in a CBS Afterschool Special called,” I think I’m Having a Baby”.  Jennifer Jason Leigh played the lead and I was one of the classmates along with Ally Sheedy.  One of my lines was, “Abortion is just another word for murder”.  And at the age of 17 I really believed that. 

And then I was 19 and found out I was pregnant.  My boyfriend said to me that if I had the baby I would never see him again—nice huh?  We had only been dating 3 months but it was long enough for me to get pregnant.  In those days I used the diaphragm–not the most effective birth control as you can see.

I went to the doctor office on a Friday—I was 8 weeks pregnant . If I wanted an abortion it had to be on Monday or I could not have it.  I was in shock and my actions were pretty robotic. I made an appointment for Monday.

What did my mother say?  She said nothing. She was with me at the doctor’s office and she said absolutely nothing one way or the other.

I was alone…emotionally alone.  My mother had moved out and took my younger sister to live with her and her boyfriend and had left me with my aunt and my aunt’s nephew.  My Catholic grandmother lived next door, and my uncle lived next door to her and my other uncle lived in the house next door.  No one had known that I had a boyfriend, let alone that I was pregnant.

And so my mother said nothing.  Monday came my boyfriend picked me up and we went to the hospital. That was over 28 years ago and to this day I can picture the lobby, the waiting room—sitting there waiting for my name to be called as if I was waiting for the executioner and I was. 

I did not want to be there.  I did not want to have the abortion.  I just wanted to run away but instead I asked my boyfriend if he was sure about this? He, of course said yes.  I would have been so happy if he had so no, let’s go but that was not the case.  And my name was called—and off to the gallows I went……TO BE CONTINUED

..hunting for a roach…

PLEASE BE FORWARNED THE FOLLOWING MAY BE GRAPHIC !!!!!!!!

 

I call myself the “ROACH HUNTER”, No, not that kind….the creepy crawly kind….

The kind that makes grown  women scream and stop in their tracks.

I envisioned living close to the ocean…. I envisioned a little back yard..but what I did not envision creepy crawlies…

Unbeknown to me when I moved into my two bedroom apt only 8 blocks from the ocean with my own little patio/backyard is that there were roaches.

Now, I’m not unfamiliar with roaches.  I did live in the Bronx, N.Y till the age of five.

We used to visit my family in Puerto Rico as a child, and with hot and humid you not only get bugs you get BIG BUGS.

And you get BIG BUGS THAT FLY. I remember one of those flying aliens getting into my hair at the age of 12.

My PHOBIAS are very real.

In the Caribbean roaches are 3-4 ” long.  Now, that a roach.  I have a very weak bladder and get up to go to the bathroom a gazillion times a night. However, as a small child visiting my homeland, oh hell no!!!!.  To get up in the middle of the night would be to encounter Giganta-Roach.  Needless to say I would stay put in bed and would get up pretty early to go pee in the safety of daylight.

Not since those childhood days have I experienced roaches in my home.

I do remember a vacation in Jamaica in which I saw one of those Giganta-Roaches in my hotel room.  There was no way I would get a nights sleep in that room.

So I head off to the front desk and very politely say to the gentlemen on duty.  ” I’m from Puerto Rico ( I don’t want him to think I am being a judgemental American), so I’m familiar with Giganta -Roach and there is one in my room.  I don’t want to kill it but could you send someone to get it out?”  He sent one of the service guys who arrived with an empty video box (remember those?).

He caught not one but TWO.   Dear GOD, there were TWO of them in my room.  I nearly had a heart attack when he told me that.

I’m told that the roaches in India are a foot long..won’t be going there any time soon!

So, as you can see I have quite a history with bugs.

Did you know that there are “white roaches”? They are even more horrific than a dark roach, like something out of a Hollywood Apocalypse -Horror film.  I kid you not.  I really freaked when I saw my first white roach.

So, why haven’t I RAIDED  them or used a FOGGER,  you ask.

Two reasons, very simply..I am allergic to Raid, so I will get killed before the roaches with a raid-induced asthma attack.

I have 3 cats and a dog and in order to fog you must be off premises for at least 4 hours.

Have you ever had a cat in a pet carrier? That hour drive moving was a lot of fun with three cats screaming bloody murder in the back.

So I have had to resort to natural and organic ways to get rid of the buggers.

The internet search was on……

The answer was…….are you ready?……….ORANGE OIL !!!!!!!!!!

Yup, it seems that there is something about orange oil that starts to melt their exoskeleton and they start to suffocate.

So in an old fantastic bottle I have a concoction of water,vinegar and orange oil.

Guess what it works!!!!!  You spray them and they slow down or stop long enough for me to get a paper towel and crunch them.

I love that sound…the crunching sound of one dead roach..pure heaven to my ears. The small ones I just swat with my bare hands.

I have gotten really good with that trigger.  I can’t wait to go to Disneyland again and get on the Buzz Lightyear ride–I’m sure my score will be a lot higher.

Too bad my spray does not work on ants or spider… I have them too.

I no longer fear the roach..the fight is on and I intend to win the war.

You can call me “The Cockroach Hunter”.

…. ¡OH NO !, he DIDN’T (snap …snap…)

..oh yes, he did….

oh yeah, I got a text message today from Jackson, you remember him?, “Hit & Run” guy….

this conversation was much shorter and went something like this…..

Jackson: Are you by chance on Campus?

Ivonne: not yet my class is at 7…why what do you want now….(I’m still a bit p’d over the hit and run thing)

Jackson: Nada. Lo Siento (translation: nothing I’m sorry).

Oh no, you do not get to do that to me.

You don’t get to text me and then NOT tell me why you called.

So I called him and I asked him, what do you want?

And he gets all defensive on me.  I, of course point out, that the only time he ever calls is when HE wants something and that is not very friendly…

¿ Are you aware of this? , I say to him.  Jackson is still defensive says something like, point taken or some such thing.

¿What did he want you ask?…he wanted to know if I could pick up his thesis at the school library.

Ok, so here’s the thing…Campus is in Long Beach…I live in Long Beach…Jackson lives and hour away.

Either way he still has to drive to Long Beach to pick it up.

Does that even make any sense?

I’m open to input.

…little blue pills……

 

I was at my mom’s a few months ago and she was laughing and smiling, which is rather unusual for my mom.

I commented to my step-dad and he said she was on anti-depressant.

I took an interest because I had been pondering if anti-depressants really have an effect on those taking them.

Well, I finally had evidence in the form of my mother.  I was shocked at the difference in her behavior.  I had been contemplating anti-depressants because I’m tired.

I’m tired of not being happy.

I’m tired of feeling overwhelmed.

I’m tired of wishing I was dead.

I’m tired of not wanting to get up out of bed because I dreaded the day.

Because everything on my to-do list sucked as far as I was concerned.

I needed something to get me past the point of feeling like a broken record, repeating the same sad feelings over and over.

Now, you have to understand I have done therapy.  I have done self-help, self-analysis.  I have mediated, I have prayed, I have affirmed but this underlying wish to not exist never really goes away.

My life in many ways has had a lot of blessings among the pitfalls but it seems as if they stand out more.  I do not know what joy feels like.  I have moments, seconds of feeling good but they are overshadowed by aeons of sadness.

A couple of months ago I found out that my great-grand parents on my mother’s side (married to each other) had each committed suicide by hanging themselves ( at different points in time).

I wish I had known that growing up.  I always felt like there was something so wrong with me.

I remember at the age of 8 or 9, sitting in the shower stall hugging my knees rocking back and forth and wishing that I was dead.  but I don’t remember what had occurred to make me feel that way.  To this day there is a black spot on my memory, but I do remember wishing that I was dead at the age of 8 or 9.

The light bulb went off for me when my mom told me about the suicides.  all of a sudden it made so much more sense to me.

Depression, like alcoholism is hereditary.  I no longer felt like I was some alien..  Like a failure because all the therapy, all the seminars ultimately left me back at square one.

So, I take a little blue pill every morning and I wonder is it really working?  I think it is because I don’t feel so overwhelmed.  I still get angry , I still get sad but I don’t go into death mood like I used to so easily.

“I think I need a higher dosage”, I had said to my mother.  She said “Me too!”.

I thought she was talking about herself but she meant she agreed with me that I should be on a higher dosage….thanks mom….

I often wonder what it would have been like to have had a happy mother that enjoyed life…would I still need meds or would I have been a happier child?

I am tired of being the sad one.  I want to be known as the woman who is living life to the utmost.

 

..a good ole country song…

 

in this moment, in this instant, my heart cries out for a good ole country song…..

nothing quite expresses the angst you are feeling like a good ole country song..

Pastsy Cline—” Crazy..crazy for feeling so blue…”

Pasty Cline—-”I’ve got your picture…she’s got you…”

Tammy Wynette—–”…stand by your man and show the world you love him…..if you love him you’ll forgive him….”

Reba McEntire—” the world didn’t wait for my broken heart…”

Barbra Mandrell—”…if loving you is wrong, then I don’t want to be right…”

Barbra Mandrell—” sleeping single in a double bed trying to forget…”

Loretta Lynn—” I gotta lotta love left in me, so I wanna be free…”

And so I raise my Mango Ice, to the Queens of Country who in their song have exposed my bruised and trampled heart and may God bless them as tonight they exorcise the shadows and demons that have been left behind in my heart and in my bed ……..

“Hit and Runs”.

 

I learned a new idiom the other night, or rather I should say in the early morning hours.

Vampire time, where our weaknesses rise up to tempt us and seduce us.

I did something really stupid at 2:00 AM.  I sent a text message to Jackson.  Like I said it was a stupid thing to do, but there may be a good lesson in it for me.

This is the message I sent him:

Ivonne: It is in these late hours that temptation besieges me…”.

The rest of the conversation transpired as follows:

Jackson: Yikes!”.

Ivonne: ” it is also when my soul opens and I write my best….”

Jackson:”How humble! You are like Jesus”.

Ivonne:”no I don’t walk on water”.

Ivonne:”"yeah, why would you respond yikes…that was kinda rude”.

Jackson:”Guys don’t have common sense. Lo siento”.

Ivonne:” and you certainly know how to kill a mood”.

Jackson:” Was supposed to be funny but only I laughed”.

Ivonne:” apparently..why r u doing up at his hour?”.

Jackson:” Reading and you?”

Ivonne:” besides being a little horny…”.

Ivonne:” doing paperwork…”.

Jackson:” A little?”

Ivonne:” ok a lot f____ing horny”.

Jackson: ” well where are your other mid-20′s guys?”

Ivonne: lol..I don’t sleep around..no other men young or old”

Ivonne:” and I don’t waste time with 20 something’s..u were the exception”.

Jackson:’ I am honored”.

Ivonne:”but still wasted my time with u”

Ivonne:’oh god..is that all you can say”.

Jackson:” Someone is touchy tonight”.

Ivonne:” right,it’s called being horny and no outlet…duh”

Ivonne: good night..sorry if I bothered u”

Jackson:” Sorry I am useless”.

Ivonne:’ why do u say u r useless”.

Jackson:”I can’t assist you”.

Ivonne:”wasn’t expecting you to”.

Jackson:”Just teasing?”

Ivonne:” not teasing but I understand that you have a girlfriend…there was a time you would flirt back…”.

Jackson:” Plus ‘hit and runs’ are bad emotionally”

Ivonne:” not sure what hits and run r”.

Jackson: “sex and nada mas”.

Ivonne:”shouldn’t you have considered that b4 u had sex with me?”

…there was no response after that.

The next morning I sent the following text;

Ivonne: ” btw, last night was not about sex…it was about intimacy and desiring to connect on a soul level”.

Jackson did not respond to that either.

Like I said when I started it was a stupid thing to do.

I was not horny, not even close.  I was exhausted and tired from a long working weekend.  I was not horny. I was missing him, but it was easier to say that I was horny because to admit that I still cared I could not do.

It wasn’t about the sex.  It was about him….but I felt dirty..violated …when he said “hit and runs”.

This very ugly realization occurred to me, “Is that all I was?”

a hit and run..so he never cared about me..never saw me as a person? 

So, all he saw was an older women who he assumed slept around because he was younger..wow I was stunned…..that really hurt.

I’m done.  I have never felt so bad in any relationship as I do now.  Not even the ex-husband or the ex-boyfriend before Jackson made me feel this bad.

Three psychics have told me that he would come back, but now I just don’t know.  I don’t know if I would want him back.  I know I deserve so much better than this.

So, I think that was the blessing for me. I think I can finally let go and open my heart to someone who is going to love me, mind, body, heart and soul, as i want to love them.

Growing up hurts……..

dark chocolate covered pretzels

 

…dark chocolate covered pretzels are my latest addiction..it can be the total lack of romantic “activity” in my life that is pushing me to chocolate ….

well to be quite honest chocolate is always on the menu regardless of what is going on in my life….

there are yogurt covered pretzels, milk chocolate covered pretzels but the only satisfying covered pretzil for me is “dark chocolate covered pretzels”.

I buy them at Trader Joes, and if they ever discount them I will lead a public protest.  You know how you love an item at Trader Joes and then one day it’s not on the shelves and then you find out it’s been discontinued… URGHHH!!!!!!

There is something about the bittersweet dark chocolate combined with the saltiness of the pretzel that is just so yummmyyyyyy…

So, for now chocolate will have to be my substitute for “romantic activity”, she writes with a mouth full of chocolate pretzel…..

for those of you who read the previous post on dark chocolate below is the photo of the Dali painting made out of chocolate…..

A Yellow Rose Day…..

A long time ago, in the time when my now ex-husband and I were dating and it was all new and good I had what I call to this day a, a yellow rose, kind of day.

It was summer in the valley and it was hot.  Robert and I both did children’s entertainment and when it is 100 degrees plus in the valley it can get really rough.  It was one of those long, long  hot days.

When I got home there was a yellow rose taped to the front door with a note attached.

It was a note from Robert saying, that he knew my day was hard and that he was thinking of me.  That is one of my fondest memories of my relationship with Robert.  Receiving that yellow rose really made all the difference in the world to me.  All of sudden the day was not so bad.

Too this day whenever I’m having a rough day I say, “it’s a yellow rose day”.

When I moved into Long Beach I bought some plants, one being a rose plant.  I had it in pot in the sun but it wasn’t doing well.  I decided to plant it in the dirt to see if it would do any better.

Well, the plant didn’t die but no flowers bloomed on it. Quite honestly it has been two years and I thought it would have died by now.  I have a black thumb not a green thumb.

Well a couple of weeks ago, I noticed one little tiny bud finally growing on the rose plant.  The bud blossomed.

And it was a yellow rose.  In that moment I felt all the joy I did years ago when Robert left me a yellow rose, knowing that someone was thinking of me.

In that moment I felt peace because it felt like God was sending me the message that he/she was looking out for me, that I was not alone. 

In that moment, that yellow rose bud brought me a moment of peace, serenity and security.

…weeds & flowers……

 

Where I live the dirt is so fertile that weeds and wild things grow rampant.

There is this ugly, tall thing growing furiously out front.  I keep meaning to go out there and pull it up.

Well a funny thing happened, almost overnight, this tall ugly thing had the most beautiful pink flowers blossoming on it.

Wow…I was amazed.  Here I thought thing was merely an ugly weed, when in reality it was a flower waiting to bloom.

Our relationships are like that plant.  There are some that we judge to be merely weeds, but if we give them time, we will see that they are really flowers.

And some that we think are precious flowers are merely no more than stink weed.

Given time and discernment you will able to know which is a flower and which is a weed.

…..missing jackson….

 

 

 

 

Ok , so today I have found myself missing Jackson.

You remember him the young man who I took to my ex-husbands wedding and two weeks later tells me that he is having sex with someone else and then brought that person to my christmas party without asking me if it would be okay.

Why, in hell am I missing him?, you ask…

Well , I think I am really missing the fantasy of what we could have been.

I am missing the places I thought we would get to go to.

I am missing the life I thought we could have had if things had turned out differently.

It could be hormonal or maybe I am just feeling horny-sex was really great with him, but that’s not it.

I am missing the conversations we had about religion, life, the world.

I am missing the sound of his voice, the smell of his hair.

I am missing how sweet and safe  it felt to fall asleep in his arms.

How is it that we can miss someone so much, who most likely is not giving us a second thought.

So, tonight my heart ouches for the man who I still care so very much about……….

Dark Chocolate

…there is nothing better than the deep, rich taste of dark chocolate melting in your mouth.

What is it about chocolate that calls out to me in good times, in bad times and in times of stress and any time in between.

Chocolate comes to us from Mesoamerica. The Nahuatl word is xocolatl and is truly the drink and the gift of the gods.  The best cup of hot chocolate that I have ever had was in Playa del Carmen, at the Ah Cacao, chocolate cafe.  It was like drinking chocolate gold and was absolutely exquisite.

And if you happen to be in Barcelona, Spain, then you must check out the Chocolate Museum, where all the works of art and sculptures are made out of chocolate. Of course, they also have a chocolate shop where you can buy rich, rich,deep chocolate as well.  My favorite was the portrait of Dali done in shades of chocolate.

It was not until the Spanish conquest of Mexico that chocolate was introduced into Europe.

Dark chocolate has a substantial amount of antioxidants and has been much promoted recently for its health benefits.

Chocolate also contains alkaloids such as theobromine and phenethylamine, which produces psychological effects and makes you feel good.

Romantic love lore identifies chocolate as an aphrodisiac. The reputed aphrodisiac qualities of chocolate are most often associated with the simple sensual pleasure of its consumption. It could very well be those alkaloids at work.

Giving chocolate has become a familiar courtship ritual.

What would Valentine’s Day be without a heart-shaped box of chocolates or Easter without a chocolate bunny.

And there is nothing better than a box of rich, dark chocolate after a break-up.

And who hasn’t read, Roald Dahl’s book, Charlie and the Chocolate  Factory, and hasn’t fantasized about being a child on that journey?

The gods most definitely gave us a gift in Cacao.

And so I will continue to consume deep, rich, dark chocolate as I await  the arrival of my beloved.

Intimacy…….

 

 

We are all here because in some form or another we need healing in the area of our relationships.  We are seeking a connection to others but what is Intimacy?  What is it that we are seeing when we look for intimacy with others? 

 In the film, “Jerry Maguire”, Tom Cruise says ,”You complete me” and when I first heard that line I thought yes, how romantic but I have since learned otherwise. It takes two whole, healed and complete beings unto themselves to come together and then they can form an intimate relationship with each other. 

 When I worked on a Bank of America commercial the make-up artist said to me that “Intimacy” means IN-TO-ME-SEE. Intimacy is when we can expose ourselves, our heart, our soul, our fears, and  our dreams to another human being knowing that we will be received for who we really are. 

And isn’t that what we ultimately desire in our intimate relationships, to be really seen by our intimate partner?

In the film, “Avatar”, the NaVi express feelings of love by saying, “I see you”, which makes a lot more sense to me than, “You complete me”.

When we look to someone else to complete us there are gaps in us and parts of our self that remain unfulfilled.  So when the other disappears or is sick or is unable to be there we feel pain.  But that pain isn’t inflicted by the other partner. That is the pain that has always been there that never got healed inside of us.  We thought it had gone away because our relationship became the bandage, our crutch. 

 So how can we be intimate with another human when we can not even be intimate with ourselves?  That is the first step in having intimacy with another person.  We have to be intimate with ourselves first.  We have to heal our pains and hurts first.  We have to face our own soul and that is the hardest part on the journey towards healing.

 So let’s pray for courage, for wisdom, for self-knowledge, for self forgiveness so that we can be healed and bring light into all our relationships.

love & light

ivonne

Taking small steps on the journey…

 

So, I decide to take this intentional journey to attract my soul mate.  To be conscious of my relationships, my thoughts and my feelings to keep me focused on my path.

But where do I start?  What are my resources?  One of the things I realized is that my friends are my resources.  They are my resources for play, for spirit, for camaraderie, for conversation, for challenges to my intellect.  But I am such a workaholic that I don’t make time for my friends.

How could I possibly draw a soul mate relationship into my life if I don’t even make time for the friends that I do have?

But that is not the only dilemma I have regarding my friends.  You see, most of my friends are the people who I work with, who are also friends of my ex-husband. I realized this when I was at his wedding.

In order for me to move on and move forward not only did I have to make time for my friends but I had to make new friends as well.

When there is a divorce it is good to be on friendly terms, especially if you are in the same line of work and are friends with a lot of the same people.

But it is not really emotionally healthy. At least, not for me.

A friend of mine invited me to karaoke at a bar and I went in the attempt to expand my circle of friends and I even sang–of course I did apologize to all those at the bar–singing is not my thing.  Well, I love to sing in the privacy of my home and it really should be kept that way.

Realization number two- do I really want to meet someone who hangs out at bars and drinks?–not my thing either.

So, here’s the thing.  You have to have a full life in order to bring in your desired other.

My other can not be the sole source of my fun-my laughter-my downtime-or any thing else.

Life does not wait for the perfect moment or the perfect person to begin but when you consciously begin to have your life I believe the perfect person for you will show up.

So tomorrow, I am off to LACMA with two of my guy friends, my hang out buddies and we get to meet one of the guy’s new girl friend–the first one of our little group to have a significant other.

And I get to see some great art—and who knows what else or who else might transpire on a day amongst art, beauty and friends.

 Love Note:

My beloved let me paint a picture of my love for you,

And in that work you will see

the stars, the universe,

my soul laid bare,

and my heart embracing your soul….

The Cart Before the Horse

 

As much as I would like to think that I have great profound wisdom, welled up inside of me waiting to spring forth and to illuminate the world and change lives ( and maybe there is an aspect of that), the truth of the matter I’m just a person like everyone else out there struggling to find love in life.

My childhood was just as dysfunctional as anyone else’s.

I did not learn about unconditional love until I got my first dog as an adult.

So being in relationship was quite a challenge because the only model that I had, had been that of my divorced parents, and it was not a very good model.

My dad has been with wife number two for about 28 years (my step mom is only eight years older than me).

And my mother is on husband number three.

My marriage was definitely a challenge because I really did not know what partnership consisted of.

Therapy helps-self-help books help- seminars help-workshops help.

Any process that takes you to the dark abyss of your soul where you must confront yourself helps to heal and renew your being into a whole and complete soul.

You see the thing is you can not look to a soul mate to heal you or complete you.  That line, “You complete me”, sounded so romantic in the film Jerry Maguire but if we look to another to complete us we will be left with an empty feeling, this black hole in our gut.

That is the irony or paradox of searching for your soul mate.  You must find yourself first.  You must heal yourself and feel completed before you can draw in your soul mate.

The mind-set must be that of sharing.  I want to share my life with another.  I want to love another.  I want to bring  joy to another.  You heart must already be overflowing with love.

Your heart can not be an empty cup that is waiting to be filled by someone else.  You heart must over flow.  And that over flow will be a river that will sail you to your soul mate.

So, do not put the cart before the horse.

Love thyself….love life….let your joy and happiness be the illuminating path to your beloved.

….love note….

…beloved, love must always overcome the fear…the uncertainty…the unknown…the shadows, then and only then will our souls become luminaries on the path, love when trusted will transcend…..

Visioning Your Soulmate

Jackie, Lily and I have gotten together a few times to do our spiritual work in order to magnetize our soul mate’s into our lives.

The second time we got together we worked on making a list of the qualities that we were looking for in a soul mate.  We wrote everything down from physical qualities, mental, emotional and spiritual.  The idea behind this process is to literally  flesh out this person.  Some people may say making a list is superficial, but is it?

I do not believe so.  It is a process which works as a focusing lens to assist you in examing what are the essential qualties that you need in a partner.  Often times women and men as well, claim they want to be in a relationship but have no idea what that relationship would look like.  Women go out with men that they are physically attracted to but don’t really know what are the qualities that would make for a supportive , loving relationship.  And so they have sex and become affected by the power of OXYTOCIN [more on Oxytocin later, ], and find themselves feeling in love with a man they are not really compatible with but are addicted to.

A list helps you to focus on what is essennial for you.  We had fun with this as well and put all sorts of things on the list, including the types of activities that we would like to engage with our beloved.

So, after we spent time working on our lists we shared what we had come up with.  I think we need to meet a set of triplets because give or take a couple of qualities we all seemed to have described the same man.  We decided that if we did meet a trio of brothers that we have one big, gigantic wedding.

We then took our list out to our sacred space, the beach.  There is just something so lovely as being on the beach in the middle of the night, candles burning, looking at the silvery stars against the black velvet night and sending love out to our beloved’s.

We took our lists and burned them with our candles placing our order with the universe……

Single on Valentine’s Day

If you are single there seems to  be this tendency to dread this holiday. If you are male and dating there is also dread and angst concerning Feb. 14.  There are too many expectations which are tied into this day.

But what really is Valentine’s Day.

There are varying opinions as to the origin of Valentine’s Day. Some experts state that it originated from St. Valentine, a Roman who was martyred for refusing to give up Christianity. He died on February 14, 269 A.D., the same day that had been devoted to love lotteries. Legend also says that St. Valentine left a farewell note for the jailer’s daughter, who had become his friend, and signed it “From Your Valentine”.

Other aspects of the story say that Saint Valentine served as a priest at the temple during the reign of Emperor Claudius.

Under the rule of Emperor Claudius II Rome was involved in many bloody and unpopular campaigns. Claudius the Cruel was having a difficult time getting soldiers to join his military leagues. He believed that the reason was that roman men did not want to leave their loves or families. As a result, Claudius cancelled all marriages and engagements in Rome. The good Saint Valentine was a priest at Rome in the days of Claudius II. He and Saint Marius aided the Christian martyrs and secretly married couples, and for this kind deed Saint Valentine was apprehended and dragged before the Prefect of Rome, who condemned him to be beaten to death with clubs and to have his head cut off. He suffered martyrdom on the 14th day of February, about the year 270.

In 496 A.D. Pope Gelasius set aside February 14 to honour St. Valentine.

At that time it was the custom in Rome, a very ancient custom, indeed, to celebrate in the month of February the Lupercalia, feasts in honour of a heathen god. On these occasions, amidst a variety of pagan ceremonies, the names of young women were placed in a box, from which they were drawn by the men as chance directed.

The pastors of the early Christian Church in Rome endeavoured to do away with the pagan element in these feasts by substituting the names of saints for those of maidens. And as the Lupercalia began about the middle of February, the pastors appear to have chosen Saint Valentine’s Day for the celebration of this new feaSt. So it seems that the custom of young men choosing maidens for valentines, or saints as patrons for the coming year, arose in this way.

Gradually, February 14 became the date for exchanging love messages and St. Valentine became the patron saint of lovers. The date was marked by sending poems and simple gifts such as flowers. There was often a social gathering or a ball.

In the United States, Miss Esther Howland is given credit for sending the first valentine cards. Commercial valentines were introduced in the 1800′s and now the date is very commercialised.

So how does one avoid the commercialism of Valentine’s Day which for single women can often bring depression, sadness and feelings of why doesn’t anyone love me?

Love is not something we attract to ourselves but rather it should emanate from within.

So the question really should be, how do I get to express love on Valentine’s Day?

Every year I buy a Valentine for my soul mate and I put it away in a special tin.  Actually I do this for most holidays.  And I get joy out of reading the cards knowing that same day I will be able to sign them.

What would I do if my soul mate were in my life?  Well, I would probably buy new lingerie and I did.

I would buy a new outfit and I did.  All these actions according to the law of attraction are called “living as if”.

These are all great but how does this express outward love? You must love your self first and do things which empower you in order to be able to love others.

So, do something you love on Valentine’s Day. Get a massage-Volunteer at an animal shelter-volunteer at a children’s hospital-Go to Disneyland-spend time with family, do whatever makes you feel loving and loved.

As for myself, I am getting together with a group of friends and we are going to watch vampire movies.  Vampire movies, rather appropriate I think, as the myth of the vampire in modern day employs elements of sensuality and eternal and are not those elements also aspects of one’s soul mate?

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

Yemaya

In order to manifest anything in your life you need to put action to words.  You cannot just dream about it or sit around wishing or even just visualizing it.  Those are all tools which need to be fueled by actions.

So I gathered two of my girlfriends, Jackie and Lily (not their real names) to participate with me in a goddess/soul mate workshop.  They are my guinea pigs and they know it.

We are on this fun crazy journey that I am making up as I go along, kind of with a little help from everything and nothing in my life.

Day One

Most of us have obstacles or blocks that keep us from our desires.  Some are conscious and some are subconscious.  The three of us have stated that we want to draw/attract our soul mates to us so the first order of business is to see what our blindfolds are.

What is preventing me from having the love that I want?  So we had to think about this and make a list of our limiting beliefs.

My list went something like this:

-I am too old- (young man I took to my ex-husband’s wedding said this to me, apparently I wasn’t too old to have sex with, just too old to be in a “real” relationship with)

-My eggs are too old- (this from my doctor’s)

-I have no sense of humor( the ex-husband has said this to me–yet he forgets that I was married to him for 5 years).

-I am too fat- (mummy dearest likes to tell me this at least 2x a week)

-I am too smart- ( well I do have a brain and I do use it and I don’t dumb down for guys)

My god !!!!! I guess I am destined to be alone forever aren’t I?

Age is a matter of perspective and point of view and the truth is I am ageless.

Someday, I will be a great mom, not matter what the fertility docs say…but that may be another blog…..

I have a great sense of humor that my ex-husband will never see because we just don’t fit.

I’m not really fat but mom seems to remember my size 4 body and now I am a size 8—-I finally got that sexy curvy body I have always wanted. I would say that I am voluptuous.

So we looked at where these ideas came from and realized it was someone else’s voice rattling around in our heads.

When you have a dream or a desire and then hear a negative voice coming up with reasons as to why you can’t have it or why you can’t do it or why it will not turn out, you can be guarenteed that it is not your voice you are hearing .  It is often times a parent, an ex or some negative other.

The only voice you should be listeing to is the one that is emanating from your heart and soul, because that is where your true voice resides.  It is not inside your head.

And your soul mate will love you exactly as you are.

And so now it was time to go to the beach and offer up these limiting beliefs to the goddess Yemaya so that we can be healed and transformed.

So late into the evening, we packed into my Rav-4, my two girlfriends, my dog ( for security) and myself and headed off to the beach.

We took an offering to Yemaya, who is the Yoruba goddess of love and fertiltiy. She is also one of my spirit guides.  She is often depicted as a mermaid, so any offerings to her must be done at the ocean.   Offerings to Yemaya include melon, seven shiny pennies, sea lavender, and blue and white candles.

We arrive at the beach, which was quite warm for the middle of the night.  We found a lovely spot and lighted our candles.  We each had two candles, one blue and one white (Yemaya’s colors), which represented our self and our soul mate.

We took the papers on which we had written our limiting beliefs and burned them with our candles, giving them up to the universe to be transmuted and healed from our consciousness.

We then placed our offering to Yemaya at the waters edge, it it was taken by the tide it meant that she had accepted our offering and would assist us in the search for our soul mates.

It appeared as if our offering had been accepted but then 2 of the 3 pieces of melon washed back up. Hmnn…maybe this was not a good sign?  We were determined to get those melons into the ocean.  We had to place them on the sand as close to water without being in the water and then not getting caught by the tide.  We all took turns trying to get those melons into the ocean.  What a sight we must of have been –3 women and a dog hurling melons into the ocean.  We accomplished our goal-the ocean took our melons and we knew Yemaya would help us.

You must also bring libations of spirts to offer up to the gods and we had Barcardi Gold with us.  We poured out libations to the goddess.  Then Jackie decided we should each take a swig of rum to seal the deal. I’m not really mush of a drinker but hey I want my soul mate in my life.

So there we were, 3 goddesses, basking in the moonlight, drinking rum while we opened our hearts to our soul mate………

love note……

Blessings my dear Pirate.

I will visit you in your dreams.

I will be the mermaid,

daughter of Yemaya

that rescues your dying soul.

I will drag your limp body

to the sandy shores

of a beautiful isle

and into your lips

I will breathe life back into you.

 

Sweet, salty kisses

as I gaze upon that boyish face.

 

I will trade in my mermaid’s tail

for a pair of womanly legs

that I will wrap around your

sinewy torso.

 

Let my womb explode

in the power of your soul

as we reunite in yet another lifetime,

to fuel one another,

to power one another.

and to mirror one another…..

 

softly and sweetly I bid you good night my dear pirate

for tomorrow is another day,

another lifetime, another adventure.

 

And I must reclaim my mermaid’s tail

and swim into the stars…….

…love note…..

I want to be consumed by your soul.

I want to lose myself within you
so that the boundaries
between where I begin
and where you leave off
are blurred and erased.

I want who I am
to  lose herself
within who you are.

A union complete and synergistic.
An explosion
of the power of the soul,
of the power of the mind,
and of the power of the heart.

A union so complete,
so god-like in nature
that from within
the presence of God
bursts forth.

A union so complete
that consciousness is lost,
that the ego is lost.

And the self can only be reclaimed
through the fire burning
within each soul.

And who I am dies away.
And who you are dies away.

And as the phoenix rises out of the ashes for rebirth,
so do we rise out of each others souls,
claiming a new identity,
a new self
of not one
but of each other.

 As within me
is a piece of your soul,
of your light,
and within you,
my soul and my heart.

And together we shall
Illuminate the stars
with the coupling of such
profound power.

Yet humble before the creator…

…as I lose myself
within your soul….

What does a soul mate feel like?

I can not say for  a fact what meeting a soul mate feels like because I can not say for sure that I have met mine yet.  But I would imagine as there are people on the planet there are that many possiblities.

I do believe that we are given clues along the way.  We get hints from the universe as to what our soul mate looks like, as to what qualities our soul mate has, and as to what it will feel like.

There is only one man that I have met thus far that I felt could be my soul mate.  I base these feelings on the total connection that I felt with him on all levels.

From the moment I saw him I was aware of his energy, his presence. I was drawn to him as a moth to a flame.

The next thing I noticed about him were his blue eyes.  I know that my soul mate will have blue or green eyes or some combination color there of.

The next thing I noticed was his voice, deep, husky very masculine.

Not only the sound of his voice but the words he spoke attracted me. He was bold and outspoken with a mind of his own.  Intellilect is a quality I highly value.

And when he touched me there was no seperation, we were one flesh.  At least that is what is felt like on my end.

I could lose myself in him in a good way.

And what of this god on earth?  Well, as it turns out he is the young man who decided to be with somebody else.

So, what can you do?  I have been told that there is a reserved sign with his name on it on my heart.  And that observation is correct.  And although I might long to be with this man I have to move forward.

I have to know that as wonderful as I thought he was my true soul mate is even more amazing because my soul mate will not be able to see past me.

And I must look at the blessings he brought into my life and know that he gave me a brief glimpse of my future eternity……..

love notes…

You walked into the room
and my soul stirred

I saw you
and in that moment
my heart sang

The sound of your voice
is a soothing whisper
in the cacaphony of life

Your scent stirs
every fiber of my being,
an aphrodisiac
that I delight in….

take me…consume me..devour me

as we journey
through eternity

Remember who I am
and lay your fears aside….

…goddess…beloved…soulmate….

for without you
I am merely a shadow
in the wind…….

What is a Soul Mate?

What is a soul mate?  the dictionary defines soul mate as, a person with whom one has a strong affinity, especially a person of the opposite sex.

Gosh, by that definition I guess if you are gay that would exclude you.

There are different kinds of soul mates.  there are karmic soul mates from a past life that you have something to work out or balance.  These relationships are not meant to be forever but just long enough to teach a lesson or to balance a wrong of the past.

There are what I would call soul mate buddies that are not sexaul or romantic.  My friend, Manny, may god reat his soul was my soul mate.  He got me.  He was the one person that could be totally honest with me and I would listen because I knew he got me. Manny was gay so there was never anything sexual between, but he was my soul mate.  My friend John, I love to death  he is my soul mate as well, he gets me.

Then there is the soul mate that we all long for, whether straight or gay. In Spanish they say, Alma Gemela, twin soul.  Twin souls seems to imply two of the same but I do not think even that is exactly right.

I see soul mates as two halves of the same soul.  In the time before time, in the beginning of eternity there was consciousness, the creator, god.  And out of this realm individual consciousenesses were created. These were the first souls.  Imagine these first souls as luminescent orbs in the heavens.  These souls were then split into two, a male and a female half.  Do not think of this male and female as gender but rather like a battery with a postive charge and a negative charge.

These two halves are soul mates. So when we speak of our other half we are literaly speaking of our other half, of the other soul that is in actuality us.

And so we long for this reunion.  We desire it more than anything else because until we find our other half life is not really complete.

This is what I think.  This is what I feel.  I have often been asked, do I really believe in soul mates? Yes, I have no choice.  It is what gives me hope in this dry dessert of love.  It is the Oasis that I know is there waiting for me, drawing me in.

Yes, everyone has a soul mate……….

love note

…we do not look for love, not to fullfill us nor to complete us….loves is always with us, within us, what we are to do is to exude and shine forth the love that is within, which will then illuminate the path to our soul mate……..

Action

  Hola World,

Whenever you start a journey there is always action to take.  I started by rereading the book “Love Will Find You” by Kathryn Alice.

It is a really good book with exercises throughout to help you exorcize your demons from the past and ready you to meet your soul mate.

Then I started reading another book on the subject, “The Soul Mate Secret”, by Arielle Ford which uses the laws of attraction to help you find your soul mate.

 So, I had this bright idea that rather than take this journey alone, I need help and support. So I asked two of my girlfriends to take this journey with me.

All three of us are Sagittarians, which means we share the same commitment issues.. I am brunette, one is a blonde and the other a red-head, so witches of Eastwick, I thought.

 How to perfect to engage in a Soul Mate/ Goddess workshop, where we will do exercises and do ritual and support each other.

 Well those are the morsels for today, so I will leave you with a love note……..

… my love when I look into your eyes and see my soul reflected, I know that I am finally home……

Hello world ;)

Hola World,

This is my first blog. It is my intent to share with the world my journey on the path to my soulmate.

I am 48 years young and have been divorced for ten years.  Last October 2009 I attended my ex-husband’s wedding.  I am glad I went. When the minister announced them Mr. & Mrs. I was free. I felt, really, truly, finally divorced.

About two weeks after the wedding the young man I had attended with told me he was sleeping with someone else.

….lucky in love …are definitely not words that I would use to describe me.

I decided to take action as I will not die over any man, no matter how much I cared about him.  You should never waste your time boo-hooing any man who doesn’t want to be with you.

Okay I admit, after said young man brought his new squeeze to my Christmas party I spent the next day crying and depressed (you know anti-depressants can only do so much), watching dvd’s sleeping and lamenting my woes to my friends.

God don’t you just hate when your girlfriends do that ?!

Ok since it was time to take action I decided to sign up with a couple of dating services in my search for my soulmate…..so far I have only found Soul Not—–

I’m not really sure how the online dating is going to work out but I want to give God-the Creater-my Guardian Angels-Yemaya-the Virgin Mary-and the Great Goddess, as many options as possible in my quest for my soulmate..

thats all I have to say for now…but I’ll leave you with a love note that I wrote to my soulmate….

Jan 1 2010 @ 1:04 pm

…my love this is the year that eternity will stop for a brief moment, the distance between the stars will no longer be so that we may embrace and go hand in hand traveling through the stars back into eternity…love you so much……..