something really good

I had to shrug off that negativity I’d been carrying around in order to say that hellllllll yesssssssssssssssssssss, something really good has been afoot.  Specifically, someone really good has been afoot.

The old cliche about doors closing so something new and wonderful can open for you…I believe it to be true.  I had to get smacked with some huge failures in relationships to be able to fully recognize something good when it showed up…something really, really good…like amazingly wonderfully good, like whoa good, like wow good.  I had to do a lot of work on myself, too, to be able to allow and welcome someone good—there were for sure times in my life when I would’ve turned someone good away because of my own self doubt…but now, I welcome him.

I’ve smiled so much.  I’ve laughed so much.  It’s been a gloriously good time so far.

I want to dedicate songs and poems to this one.  I want to shout it from the rooftops how lucky I am.  I want to tell strangers “I AM SO DELIRIOUSLY HAPPY!”  It feels good.  He is nothing short of fantastic.

That’s not to say every guy I’ve ever dated was horrible (you’re so vain, you probably think this blog is about you)…but you know and I know that if we aren’t still together, it was for the best.  It may have sucked at the time to part ways, but it was for the best so you could find your person and I could find my person.

This guy…he’s great.  He’s friggin’ great.  That’s all you need to know for right now.  I’m a happy Kat.

Valentine’s Eve

It’s Valentine’s Eve: the night before the world is covered in floral deliveries and chocolates.  I’ll be working from home, possibly my last work at home Valentine’s for the foreseeable future, so I will be spared some of the smarm.  It will still be all over Facebook, though, and it’s hard to stomach all the smoochiness.  I can be happy for others and still notice what’s missing for myself.

Maybe I have something good in the works.  I don’t want to jinx it.  It seems like I have something really, really, reallllllly good in the works…it has every sign of being something good…but I’ve been fooled before, y’know? But it seems awesome…chock full of laughter and kindness and sprinkled with a hefty dose of sarcasm.  Fun is had and my sass is met with counter sass.  Yep. #winning

My Valentine’s “date” is one of my besties, also single, because we’re too fantastic to sit at home and weep to Adele songs.  We shall go in search of rock n roll, and we will have a marvelous time.  “Gal”entine’s Day where besties laugh and raise a little hell.

Here’s a totally explicit Marilyn Manson video…over the top nasty to rid my mind of all those fluffy teddy bears and bouquets.  It’s raunchy; don’t click if you’re timid.


I’ve been struggling a little to stay grounded, focused.

I need connection, real connection. I don’t need the artifice of a guided group meditation: I need someone to talk to late at night when we’ve dropped our guard. I don’t need the mass consumerism that is the mayhem of this time of year: I need someone to talk to over morning coffee sometimes…”what would you do if you didn’t have to work” conversations, where would you go, what do you dream of doing differently if you could reinvent your life, “can we just stay in bed all day” conversations.

I don’t believe we need other people to complete us. We are whole, or at least we should be whole, all on our own. After doing all the work to get whole and glue all my mental and emotional bits and pieces back together, I want the other stuff. I want private jokes and someone who gets me…and I want a lot of it. I don’t want to be anybody’s (stealing a Stevie Wonder song here) part time lover anymore. I used to be okay with the part time thing because I had other things going on that needed my attention, but I’m not feeling okay with it anymore.

It’s okay to want connection. It’s okay for me not to settle for less. I want the whole shebang.


What if I don’t get it?

I’ll be okay because I’ve toughed it out through much worse, but I still want it. I’ll be fine because I am strong and I’ve done the work on myself…hell, I’m still doing the work on myself; forgiveness meditations are my jam. I’ll be whole, and I’ll be just fine, but it’s absolutely okay to want the icing to go on my cake. I want the icing!

Online dating

Online dating apps are like looping raw sausage links around your neck and swan diving into a gator pit. Ouch.

The things complete strangers will send to me are mortifying. I want to _____ your ______. Your _________ makes me ____________. Mind you, my profile is G-rated, and my photos are ordinary as well.

Other men are pushy. If you reply to their hello, they want to meet up with you today right now this minute despite not even knowing my name. Pushy serial killer much?

Others are so hard to “chat” with…they don’t type much at all so it’s hard to tell if they even want to talk to me or not, so I disappear and get a “where did u go” message like I’m the flake.

Really not what I envisioned for myself, but I’m trying. I work at home alone, so I have to try something to meet people, to make new connections, to practice the niceties of a shared meal without coming across like a half-starved dingo. Think good thoughts for me, folks. This bites.

I just don’t look.

Social media is both awful and awesome.
It’s awesome to see what’s up with your favorite people.
It’s awful when social media is full of your exes. Most of my exes are on Facebook and Instagram. We are not “friends” but they are friends with my friends…so I see their comments and tags, but here’s how I stay sane:
I just don’t look at their feed or wall or whatever it is on the particular social media. Sometimes, I’m sorely tempted, but it’s not going to feel good, so I just don’t do it. I don’t creep on them. I don’t peek. I just don’t look.
I hear my friends say about their own exes: I can’t believe they went to ____ (insert name of amazing place). I can’t believe they bought a ______(insert name of thing you covet). I can’t believe they_______ (insert thing ex did with his new beloved, like painting a room or landscaping the yard). My friends are all in damn twist over it, livid.
I just don’t look. I haven’t looked in years. I willfully do not go there. Sometimes it’s super tempting; I get curious. The reality is, though, it’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna be a swift punch in the gut that I do not need on any day of the week. No matter how happy you might be, it’s seldom a thrill to see your ex living well and frolicking with the love that came after you. Yeah yeah yeah: Be the bigger person; I hear ya.
I can be a benevolent soul, but even I have my limits…so I just don’t look.

Sunday Afternoon Ramblings

If I’m neglecting my writing, it can usually be attributed to feeling like crap. I’ve felt like crap for a few weeks thanks to hellacious allergies. I am very possibly open to living in one of those bubble suits. Doc says take two different allergy meds each day for the next few weeks, and that slows the snotfest, but it gives me epic headaches. Damned if ya do, damned if ya don’t. Feeling better this weekend, so let’s ramble, shall we?

I’m off the dating site. Disabled my account because the flood of lewd messages was relentless, and I was also receiving tons of hostile messages about how women have ruined marriage, ruined family, ruined love. Whoa, please don’t get any of your crazy on me, thanks. The harmless “hi, how are you” types of messages were few and far between.


I did wrangle one pretty terrific date and phone number out of the site before I disabled my account. It might jinx things to say he’s super promising as our second date fast approaches, but I had fun on our sushi date, and the conversation and laughter were easy. “Ease” is underrated in the dating world. I prefer ease. I don’t want to “make” anything work, force something; the magic is either there or it’s not. Ease. Magic. Yes.

Crafting my ass off in cameo land. It brings me joy to create them from dust, from nothing.

Promotion is a done deal at work, and my work schedule is changing, hallelujah. My only gripe about work was the schedule, so I’m thrilled to be moving into a schedule that is a better fit. The challenge right now is to train on my new role while still doing my old role; things feel a little overwhelming, but I am grateful for the opportunity. Once the dust settles, things will be awesome.

I could use a vacation. Send money 😉

On Second Thought…and Thoughts on Who I Miss

…nah. Not a bad person on that date, just missing a key ingredient that I’ll call “fire.”

I don’t mean “spark” or “chemistry.” For me, spark and chemistry come from intelligence and humor. Smart and funny were present.

I mean fire. I mean a passion to just enjoy the hell out of life. My favorite people, lovers and friends, all want to raise a glass to that gorgeous sunset or sunrise, notice the details, enjoy the moment.  My tribe gets excited about whatever makes them happy.  Maybe I misunderstood, but I sure got the feeling that this person wouldn’t want to “waste” a special occasion on a new person, while I approach life with the idea that every day, every moment, is a special occasion.

So.  Next?

It’s no giant secret that I miss an ex of mine so fiercely that I can hardly stand people who aren’t him.  I know that’s a wound that time will heal eventually, but it is that perpetual elephant always lurking in the room.  I was so open and so brave in that relationship, and I thought we could get through anything together.  I believed in happily ever after.  I’ve wanted him back since the moment we parted ways.  I’ve worked on it, grieved, made peace with it 150 times over, but I miss him.  

Tell him? He knows.  Loving someone enough to let them go is gut wrenching.  If I am not his happy place, let it be known I loved him enough then and love him enough now to want him to be happy. I bow my head, make a wish to love like that again, and keep on keepin’ on.

the quest for smittenosity

fine. i did it.  i freakin’ created an online dating profile. i am not going to find a new romance walking around my house in my pajamas, and the men who flit around the edges of my life aren’t taking any action, so fuck it.  let’s do this thing.

it’s mostly gross. men tell me the vulgar things they want to do to assorted parts of my body. they invite me to sext.  it’s way beyond my comfort zone to be on the damn site to begin with, nevermind the inbox full of lewd comments.

there’s one with intriguing potential, and so far, only one…but will an online rapport translate into a real life connection? clearly it’s easier to be who you want to be online–so sayeth the one writing this post and blogging for over a decade, yo.  we can be anyone online, but then in real life, we are our awkward fumbling selves without a backspace button to undo our dorky mistakes.

i want mutual smittenosity. i am confident that “smittenosity” is a word, and i want it. i want someone to look forward to hanging out with me. i want the giddy eager good stuff: the easy laughter, the crazy kisses, the “cmon, please stay” persuasion.

those are all wants.  i don’t believe i “need” anyone to complete me. i’m not desperate, but there are beautiful moonlit nights that i wish i had someone around to smooch under the stars.

What Would My Personal Ad Say?

I haven’t gotten to the point of placing a personal ad, but I’ve considered it.

What would mine say?

Reclusive Introvert Seeks Independent Beau Who Will Mostly Go Away; Preference Given to Men Who Live Far Away, Work Really Long Hours, and/or Train for Marathons.

Pet Mom Seeks Dude Who Will Make Me Laugh Until I Snort Soda Out My Nose.

Halloween Should Be All Year Round; Message Me If You Agree!

Alpha Female; Delicate Souls Need Not Apply. Seriously. I Will Crush Your Spirit.

Here’s My Number, But, Like, Don’t Call Me; I Don’t Use My Phone For That.

I dunno.  I guess I shy away from all that personal ad business because I’m just not sure the people I adore could be summarized in 50 words or less.  I wouldn’t have picked them based on only their hobbies or their line of work.  I’m also highly dubious about selecting people like you would food off a menu.

I like road trips and great food and laughing, but, man, I gotta be by myself often so I don’t flip out.  I’m not one of those people who gets all immersed in coupledom; doesn’t mean I’m not interested or not incredibly loyal, I’m just not cut out to be joined at the hip with anyone 24/7.

Sigh.  Let’s see how the year shakes out.



I’d like to write something here about romantic love, but it’s hard for me to dive in. It makes me think of earthquakes and lightning and the fires of the very bowels of Hell.

I don’t truly get romantic love, how it should be, how it works, why it’s such a clusterfuck? What I do know is that Every Single Time in my adult life (yes, Every Single Time in caps) that I’ve thought things were deliciously good and we had similar goals and wanted the same things…haha, guess what? I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Here’s something I’ve observed. I’m very driven in my life to improve myself, to learn new things, to grow constantly…so almost by default, my significant other begins to work on improvements, and I encourage it. I encourage applying for jobs that seem out of reach. I encourage reaching for the goals that seems intimidating. I applaud it! And then…they grow on outta here with zip zero zilch loyalty to me…and I’m like, well, fuck.

I don’t require a man to live a delightful life: this I know for sure. But I enjoy having a partner, a significant other, a love. I would like a consistent partner, y’know, as advertised in the brochure, someone as fiercely loyal to me and in it for the long-term haul as I am for them. Someone who is not a ginormous wuss, because I just can’t deal with men who are intimidated by me. Someone who will show up for me again and again. Is that crazy? Is it non-existent? It’s beginning to feel non-existent, and that’s disappointing, because I’ve believed in this possibility for so long.

I don’t believe in Prince Charming. I don’t believe in perfection. I believe in love, loyalty, friendship, and a mutual commitment…and apparently, that’s right up there with believing in Santa Claus, Tooth Fairies, and chupacabra.

I sort of imagined by this point in life, I’d know who’d be by my side at my kiddo’s graduation, who’d see me through empty nesting in a few years. I know sometimes the Universe makes us wait, because something better is coming? I am frustrated by the wait sometimes. I want that totally bullshit silly “Every Kiss Begins With Kay Jewelry” kind of woo. I want to be adored by the one I adore. Flowers. Romance.

I won’t bore you with the specifics of how things keep playing out, but I just want to say that I want the woo. I want a smart and funny man who wants to live life to its breadth and depth, who’ll kiss me like it’s his job, who is as proud of me as I am of him. I want a loyalty as true as mine. I hope this man exists outside the confines of these words and my mind.