Life’s Been Good

Year One, Month 5, Day 16

I know, I know, I know.

I’ve been a bad Lizzie the last couple of months to not keep you up to date on what’s been going on in my life.

So, Gentle Reader, let me catch you up on my doings.

First, I became a great-aunt for the second time about seven weeks ago.  A beautiful baby girl.  I was actually present in the delivery room since neither of my niece’s parents could be present at the birth.  One was caring for my nearly two-year old nephew, the other was coming in a couple of days later once my niece was out of the hospital.

It was an honor to be there  as a sweet, innocent life came into the world. The following day, as I was rocking my new niece and watching the news from the Ukraine, I realized the best way to achieve world peace was to sit in a rocking chair with a newborn in your arms.

There is no way you can think bad thoughts when you are cradling a baby.

Second, I have organized a book club among my friends, so  running it has been good for my brain as I research new books and decide what we’ll be reading next.  I also joined a second club and have made several new friends through it.  I’ve read several excellent books, and now have several more on my list.  So, now on those rare evenings when I am not out and about, I have an interesting book to keep me company.

Third, ny dear friend Mary has gotten me involved in organizing a fundraiser for the local Cystic Fibrosis Foundation.  I have been looking for some kind of public service event or charity to become involved with, and when she approached me to head up the media and marketing team for this event she is chairing, I jumped on it.  She’s also roped in several of our friends as well, so planning this shindig is proving to be fun!

Fourth, my freelance work has been picking up, and even though I haven’t yet been offered a full-time job anywhere, I have had several interviews in the last month, so I know it’s just a matter of time before I am offered gainful employment.

Finally, I have been seeing a terrific guy I’ll call “Alex.”

Whoops.

I buried the lead.

We met on OK Cupid, the night after my niece was born.  I had gotten home from nearly thirty-six hours at the hospital, and I was exhausted. I checked my messages, and I saw that I had a pile of messages waiting to be read.  I opened Alex’s, and was immediately impressed.

It was well written, sincere, and obvious that he had read my entire profile.  He lived about twenty miles away from me, was the same age as my brother (58), college educated, attractive, and a ninety-one percent match.

Usually a match that high meant he lived hundreds of miles away from me… not a mere twenty.

I saw he was online, and I decided to go ahead and respond.    He replied almost immediately.

We began chatting, and before I realized it, it was nearly 1AM, and I was about to fall asleep with my head on the keyboard of my laptop. We said good night and he asked if we could continue the conversation the following day.  I said, of course, and sweet dreams.

By the end of the weekend, Alex had asked me out to dinner for either Thursday or Friday that the following week…depending upon my schedule with the new baby and my family obligations.

To make a long story short, we met for dinner on Thursday… and we hit it off. The conversation was easy and relaxed, He was utterly charming and sweet.  He even gave me a single red rose when he met me.  (Cheesy, I know, but NO ONE had ever done that before.)  When he walked me back to my car, he asked if I was available the following Tuesday evening (I was going to visit my bestie Ann that weekend for her fifieth birthday party), and after I said yes, he kissed me.

Fireworks.

Again, to make a long story short, Alex and i have been seeing each other two or three times a week for the last six weeks. No, we haven’t met each others families.  We haven’t met each others friends (unless we happened to bump into them when we were together).

But I don’t think it will be too long before that happens.

In upcoming posts, I’ll talk a little more about what is actually going on in our relationship…and a few of the complications. (Yes, there are some…but I’m not freaking out over them.)  But while I do see some yellow caution flags, I am not rushing things with him.  I’m letting this relationship develop as it will.  But, I can say confidently, that Alex isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Right now, life is pretty damn good for LIzzie.  My life is full of friends, intellectual stimulation, and romance.

It’s all starting to come together…and I’m damn glad I’m finally getting the sweet end of lollipop.

 

 

Don’t Stop Believin’

Year 1, Month 3, Day 5

Sorry for the cliché Journey song…but it is perfect for this post. LB

Turning fifty is a milestone; one I will celebrate A LOT in the coming months since most of my friends are hitting the half century mark this year.

In fact, I went to my first fiftieth birthday bash last night.

Last night’s birthday girl has had a bad couple of years.  She discovered her husband of 32 years had been having an affair.  She has always struggled with depression and fell into alcoholism after discovering her husband’s cheating.  Her hubby, also struggling with depression, had to get his shit together to help my friend find her way back from the brink.

They aren’t out of the woods yet, but seeing them together last night did my heart good….and gave me hope.  They are fighting to save their life together.   And even though they still struggle (my friend fell off the wagon about a month ago), they are walking proof of the tired old cliché, “If at first if you don’t succeed, try again.”

And, like most clichés, there is an element of truth in it….especially in your love life.

Think about it like this, Gentle Reader.

If you had given up on learning how walk after the first few times you fell on your ass you would still be crawling on your hands and knees. Or, if you had stopped learning how to use a knife and fork at meals, you would be eating like an animal on business lunches and dates.

But you didn’t give up… because it is human instinct to keep going.

As you learn, you always stumble and fall…until you find your feet and you take a few steps forward.

The same thing applies to our romantic relationships.

You will kiss a few frogs…you will be heartbroken a few times…you will want to crawl into a hole and vow to never get involved with anyone else.

But if you don’t allow yourself to be vulnerable, you’ll never enjoy the happiness at the end of it all.

Seeing my friend and her husband last night made me realize I shouldn’t hide myself away. I don’t need to settle for superficial “FWB” relationships and being second best.  I need embrace the falls and heart breaks when they happen and learn from them.

Loving myself and opening my heart are the first faltering steps into my next fifty years.

And I’m going to make fifty look fabulous.

Going for the Gold

Year One, Month 2, Day 29

I enjoy the Olympics…particularly the Winter Games.

I love the grace and beauty of figure skating.  I admire the sheer bravery of the sliding athletes (bobsled, luge and skeleton).   The stunts in Freestyle skiing and half pipe snowboarding are astonishing.

It’s great to see the best athletes in the world compete and win.   And, I always feel a little bad for the silver medalist.  To paraphrase Jerry Seinfeld, “You’re the best of the losers.  Nobody lost better than you.”  Sure, it’s funny.  But it’s true.

These kids work, train, and give up their lives to achieve their dreams of Olympic glory. And then to miss the gold medal by 1/100 of a second must be heartbreaking.

While they make the medal stand and glad to be there, part of them has be a little sad at coming up second best.

That’s a feeling I know all too well, Gentle Reader.

And I hate it.

I have had a few stark reminders the last couple weeks that I am, for some reason, always second best when it comes to men.

I waited in vain for Robert to propose. I settled for being Peter’s dirty little secret…. not just last year but when we first dated in 1989.   Troy had other plans and things that were more important than me. I fucked a married guy and allowed him to walk away scot-free. And I now find myself in a sexual relationship with a man while I continue looking for my Mr. Darcy.

I’m not sure why men never see me as the prize.  I’m intelligent, funny, not unattractive, loving, loyal, passionate and caring.   I’m a great cook, and not afraid to use power tools or change a tire. I don’t need a man to complete me…but I do want one to complement me.

I am a happier and more stable person than I was this time a year ago, but I know the chances of finding love, at my age, are slim.

Why do men ALWAYS see me as the back up girl…the bridesmaid…the silver medalist?

Is it because I see myself as second best; not worthy of being a man’s first choice?

That’s a thought that’s going to fester, Gentle Readers.

I’m tired of coming in second.

I want that gold medal.