Peppermint Mocha & White Zinfandel Musings

Close up of cup of coffee with pink roseI’m a black coffee drinker, but once in a while I like a little kick in the flavor.  If not the coffee itself then some creamer.  My sister brought home some Peppermint Mocha creamer the other day and that is what is in my cup.  Well that and a package of hot chocolate mixed with the coffee, because if you are needing coffee why not shoot for the I can crawl up the wall and across the ceiling then hang upside down like a fruit bat level of caffeine satisfaction?  In my world, if you aren’t walking on the ceiling, you’re doing it all wrong.

Today, lunch was an amazing bowl of….*drum roll*…. raisin bran.  I was craving it for some reason, which makes me think I’m truly bat shit crazy after all, because who the heck craves raisin bran???  It was good, considering it is cereal, but wow, that was out of left field.

A lot of life is coming out of left field lately and I find it rather perplexing at times.

The Badge took me out for dinner last night, and my universe shifted on me.  Not sure how to explain that other than think of a lock and how tumblers inside have to all fall into place before it clicks and can be opened. I even distinctly recall the moment when he looked at me while we were talking and things just clicked into place in my cosmos and it unsettled me.  Something was very different in the energy in the air while we were together, and I swear I felt my inner walls surrounding my heart give way.

Later I was pondering it all, as I have been for weeks now, and likened it to being a kid on the 10 foot diving board. You stand there and holy crap it’s a long way to the water from that high.  You really want to jump but you are so flipping scared you can’t.  Heck you cannot even breathe.  So yep, that is me, I’ve sat down on the end of the board and my legs are swinging over the edge while I try to catch my breath, but even at a lower angle, I’m scared to death to jump.

I don’t know why I’m so worried, because this time is so different.  Not a single red flag (or pink, orange, yellow…) whatsoever.  This came out of no where when I wasn’t looking and had written off dating and relationships.  If I went down my list of deal breakers and makers, things couldn’t be more of a fit.

Wow, look at the time.  I believe it is time for the bottle of white zinfandel to be uncorked.  Meanwhile I’ll just sit here and on the end of the board, as I suspect that between him, my inner diva, goddess and child, I’m about to be pushed off my perch and into the deep end of the pool.

 

Dear Future Husband ~ It’s My Heart, Thank You Very Much

Dear Future Mr. Marvi Marti,

Gosh I love that…Mr. Marvi Marti.  You see, it is likely that is what you will be known by, as I am just that much of an over powering presence.  I tend to out shine, out last, out speak, out love, out argue etc, any man in my life.  I am quite a force to be reckoned with, no doubt.

Speaking of “out love any man”, however,  yes we DO need to talk about that part at some point and now is as good a time as any, as to date the position is still open for the future Mister.  This is because as of now, if someone likes it, they haven’t put a ring on it. You know the song.

Monday marked what would have been my 24th wedding anniversary to Lord Voldemort.  Yes, by the way, it is said in fun so just get the hell over it, oh readers who love to run tell him what I write about him. He doesn’t give a rats ass and I say it in complete fun.  Sorry, dear ex-hubster, if your “friends” feel the need to report what I write, perhaps it is time to trade them in for ones who respect your ‘claimed’ wishes to not tell you.  And SO sorry, future one of mine, I hijack my own posts once in a while, get used to it.  I’m told it is A.D.D.

My dear, future spouse, you must accept something very important.  I was married for 2 weeks shy of 22 years.  In that time I went from loving my spouse, being in love with him, to loving him with every fiber of my being, every cell in me.  It didn’t come about over night though.  That kind of love grows through many trials and difficulties, and many more happy good times.  Nearly losing him 3 times to death grew that love which is why I stayed through the shit storm life seemed to always throw our way.  Watching him be a daddy, comforting our children, those sights burned that love into my heart.  Supporting him and watching him achieve dreams, it carved him deeper  into my heart.  Yes, to this day I love that man very much, that will simply not change.  True, real love doesn’t die.  And that is why the divorce was so painful and still is for me, knowing that the love that I had for him was one sided.  He loved me, but not like I loved him.  Not with the kind of love that comes from every part of someone, that keeps promises made, the love that never gives up and stays when someone is most unlovable (rest assured he was very unlovable at times and is not the saintly  husband some think – and you can bet I can play a tie ball game in that regard).  To know that you gave someone your best years,  love from the core of your being, only to have them toss it aside like a waded up receipt, that kind of pain you just don’t bounce back from in 2 years time.  When I looked up and saw the date, 8/13, I cried all over again.  I miss the man that held me when I cried over losses, who snored softly beside me when he slept, who made me laugh at stupid, silly things, was the object of my fantasies, and made me excited just by the sound of him pulling in the driveway.  The man who could raise my desire simply by touching me.

That part of my heart is now very much closed.   I don’t know that I can ever love on that level  again.  No, it is not impossible, but it is highly unlikely.  Because when you lose the person you loved that much….it is a pain beyond words.  It hurt to even breathe.  No, it doesn’t hurt quite that badly now, but I’m still pretty raw and vulnerable on those depths.  I’m not sure we can love like that more than once in a lifetime.  Because self preservation closes those depths in the heart and seals them over.  To hurt the deeply more than once…well frankly the thought is unbearable to me.

I can love you, be your best friend, companion, cheer leader.  I can and will be faithful, there will be only you if we make a commitment.  But the deepest part of my heart is not within anyone’s reach. Even the one I loved that much could never hope  to pry that place open again.  That is why, should hell freeze over and he ever wanted to patch things up, the answer would be a concrete NO WAY IN HELL.  For one, I could never trust him again.  And of course, that love I had is locked up so tightly away now, my heart could never freely give it again to someone who threw it away.

I will use everything left in me to love, cherish and adore the man I marry, should I ever go that route again.  If that is not enough, then my dear man, I am not the one for you.  Keep looking for what you seek and I hope you are able to find it.  If you want someone who keeps those promises made in the wedding vows, “through richer or poorer, good times and bad, sickness and in health….” yada yada yada, then  please, pursue that road with me. I honor my vows and take them very seriously.

It’s MY heart, and even if I thought I could love on the level again, I don’t know that I would, and that is my right.

Dancing In The Rain….

Okay I haven’t done that…yet.  But my Biker knows it is on my lengthy list of things I want to do.  I hate to call it a bucket list, it’s more of a dream list of things to do with my best friend, my lover, my other half, the one that carries my heart in his  hands.  

I know for many it seems we are moving rather quickly toward marriage.  Keep in mind, I’m no stranger to falling in love.  I’ve been married twice and have a number of very serious relationships under my belt.  I’ve been in love, and I’ve been head over heals in love, and I even know what it is like to love heart, soul, body and mind with every cell in me.  That one divorced me.  Go figure.  But once again, I find myself with feelings like that.  Feelings that put someone at the center of my world.  I know, I said it would never happen again.  Never say never.  So what, so twice in my life I will experience a love that transcends all other loves I’ve known.  Only this time it is with a man that doesn’t want to change a single thing about me.

I’m very socially connected.  Wide open book, I check in everywhere on various social media outlets.  I pour my heart and soul out on my blog at times.  He knows this, has set no limits on my doing this.

I love to wear pink streaks in my hair.  He loves it.

Sometimes I may decide to dye my hair a different color.  He encourages it.

I want more tattoos. He is designing them.

I have a temper at times, though much less of one thanks to my meds.  When I lose it, he gets affectionate and kisses, hugs and loves me off the edge of the cliff, all the while thinking I am an adorable little spit fire when I’m pissed off.

I’m loud and obnoxious, he doesn’t mind one bit.

If I flip him off with my middle finger, he doesn’t get pissed or take it as an insult, he grabs me up in a bear hug and says “okay baby, let’s go” and heads for the bedroom.

I’m kind of a freak, he is too and adores my freaky side and my very vanilla side.

He loves ME, wants me to be ME and be free from any cages or boxes.

He thinks  I’m beautiful at my most unattractive moments.

On our recent trip to Alabama last weekend, two  things DID get crossed off that list of dreams/fantasies.  His Navy brother was getting married so we went down for the wedding.  During the outdoor reception, once it was dark, a romantic tune was playing.  He pulled me out of my chair and onto the front lawn, and we slow danced under the stars.  SO much love in those eyes while we danced and he kept touching my face telling me I was beautiful,  it was so sweet and wonderful.  And without giving away details….we made  love in the sunshine on the return trip, still thankful for those remote  locations off the beaten paths that allow for  spontaneous moments to become awesome memories.

Yes, it is life in the fast lane at the moment.  I’m okay with that.  And it has not come without a price.  My son, my oldest child, has cut me from his life.  He drew a line in the sand that he will have nothing to do with me if I’m with a 1%er.  He feels I do not know what I’m doing.  I’ve researched more than he knows, come to find out that even a fellow law enforcement friend of his has a lot of misinformation about this brotherhood my man is a part of, out and out wrong information.  But they will believe what they want to believe, I’m seeing it from another side and see a totally different picture.

I’m not  choosing my Biker over my son.  I’m choosing MY happiness.  I’m about to be 49yo.  I’m no stranger to life and problems, love and  heart break.  I’m no fool, I do my homework.  I judge by the character of the man, not the patch on the vest.  I am not getting any younger.   Life is  there, and I won’t stand outside the fire because it is safe.   Someone has come along that makes me HAPPY.   He loves me for ME,  not who he  can change me to be.  He is honest, real,  has a heart of  gold and while he is a bad boy, he is a very very good man.  He loves his Lord, loves his brotherhood, takes care of  those in the world that need help, and he loves me.  I’m choosing to be the center of someone’s world.

I want to dance, with my Biker, in the rain, as his wife.

Sometimes The Words Aren’t There…

Sometimes I have SO much in my heart that I need to pray about, only to hit my knees and find the words simply are not there.  I have burdens on my heart and I want to lift those up but I cannot begin to put into words what is in my heart. 

I’m so thankful that He knows…only He knows my heart and knows the deepest thoughts and concerns there.  Sometimes the silent heart of prayer is what is needed.  And sometimes it is the song sung from the heart and soul that carries those burdens heavenward.  Tonight is one of  those times when words fail me.  And one of those many times when I can just worship and praise Him with songs and know that the Lord hears the cry of my imperfect attempts to pray, and knows what weighs me down, and WILL answer.

This is one of my favorite songs of late on the radio, and Sunday morning Mr. Wonderful sent it to me on email.  It is ministering to my heart tonight where I cannot form the words to pray but my heart does, and I know the Holy Spirit intercedes for me, as scripture says.

Learning To LIVE Again

Recently I came across Andy Rooney’s I’ve Learned – The Art Of Happiness.  2 things really stood out to me (okay the whole thing stands out to me but due to a personal, internal struggle, 2 of them really jumped out at me).

“I’ve learned that…LOVE, not time heals all wounds.”

and…

“I’ve learned that…under everyone’s hard shell is someone who wants to be appreciated and loved.”

I’ve really been struggling lately regarding relationships and exactly what it is that I want in one.  Friends with benefits works well in theory but there is no way that two people can spend time together as friends without some type of bond forming.  We have control over our emotions to some degree, but I don’t believe that we can make ourselves love or not love someone else.  Therefore we must chose wisely who we spend time with, flirt with, and share with knowing that the possibility is always there.  How committed we are and how much we love someone has little bearing on what can happen with another that we get too close too.  We can chose to walk away when we sense that feelings are developing but we cannot control the chemistry that happens between two people.  Add sexual intimacy to the mix and I do not believe it will remain void of emotion.

I was never one to flirt around outside of my marriage beyond a surface level.  I knew all too well that chemistry happens and when the right mix occurs between any man and woman, sparks can fly.  I only flirted within safe boundaries, with those I didn’t feel a real attraction towards, that way I could keep it fun.  Of course that too is playing with fire in that I had no way of knowing how the object of my attention might react.  Attraction is often one sided.  I also know that men rarely think with their hearts or their larger heads, so a little flirting can get a girl in a heap of trouble.  Guys are weak, and thrive on female attention.  Any female with half a brain picks up on this early in life and plays the flirt card to her advantage.  It may get  your tire changed on the road side, or free drinks all night at a bar.  It is also a power game when you can persuade an otherwise faithful man to your bed for the night even though he may have a beautiful, adoring wife at home (trust me 26yrs ago I played this game).  Men are just pigs enough that they never seem to catch on that they are being used by the flirty little tart as part of a game to make herself feel powerful.  She might even play that game a long time before setting her prey free to face the consequences of his actions.  For some such women it isn’t a win until he has left his wife and all that was important behind, only to be dumped soon after.  Men are pigs, women are vicious she devils.  Make no mistake about it.

Not all men are complete pigs and certainly not all women are demonic creatures, but we do carry those less desirable traits to our over all characters.  For me, finding the man that was a more ‘cultured swine‘ was the goal in life.  And for a long time I certainly believed I had found it.  But even he fell victim too easily to the games of the more wicked of women now and then.

After such a long time and so much of me invested in my marriage, when the end came I encased my heart and determined I was NOT going to love anyone again.  Friends with benefits was the answer to preventing pain from ever touching me.  I honestly didn’t believe I could mentally stand that kind of hurt another time without landing in a padded cell wearing a straight jacket.

Enter Pixel Kitten.  My sister’s birthday gift to me, an adorable, 5 week old, orphaned kitten that NEEDED someone to love her.  I carried her around that first weekend from Friday afternoon until I had to leave for work on Monday morning, caring for her every need and doing something I didn’t even realize was happening….FEELING.  My wounded, well protected heart was wrapping around this helpless little kitten that clung to me like I was her mama.  She slept against my chest or my face, wasn’t happy unless she was being held, and began to breathe life back into my heart.  In the first few weeks she gently helped my heart off of life support and out of ICU.  I thought it was because time had passed since I found out my marriage was over, that I finally was HEALING.  And then when I read the quote, “I’ve learned that…LOVE, not time heals all wounds.” I realized that in fact it was love the healed my heart.  I poured all that pain into loving that little bundle and without even realizing it I was feeling again, thanks to my 4-legged heart band-aid. By allowing my heart to feel love again, it healed.

Even in my favorite movie, Always, the truth was right in front of me.  It wasn’t until Dorinda allowed her heart to FEEL love again that she began to heal from the loss of Pete.  The pain I carried wasn’t going to go away until I filled that void with love, first for Pixel, and now who knows, but loving is the healing balm on the wounds of my heart, no doubt about it.

All this time I had thought I would do better to NOT feel love again, that I’d heal from my wounds and move past the pain by shutting out any and all emotional involvement with anyone.  And in my friends with benefits style relationships, it almost works.  Except that in order to NOT feel for these so called friends, the only communication that could pass between us would be arranging for the hook up and the sex itself.  No pillow talk, no sharing, just the sex and be gone.  How cold.  I’m not that type, I’m not inflatable.  No that is not at all what I want, but in order to be truly friends with anyone there is sharing which leads to caring, which leaves the heart vulnerable.  So the question is how far can I safely let down my protective walls around my heart?  “I’ve learned that…under everyone’s hard shell is someone who wants to be appreciated and loved.” And this IS true, deep inside of every human is the basic need to be loved and with that love appreciated.   But it means allowing someone to get inside the barriers we build when we’ve been hurt.  Sometimes it is circumstances, life, fate, or people, but the pain inflicted is real and the protective walls mean to shield from future suffering.  But without love we do not heal those wounds, they simply fester beneath the surface making us unable to trust or exist beyond our self imposed exile.  We move about as an island in the world not allowing anyone close to us.  This is NOT living, this is existing.

I know that I do not want to merely exist in this life, moving through it watching others but never letting anyone get close to me.  Trusting someone to hold my heart means yes, I will hurt again, yes I will cry again, but it means I WILL be able to love again.  And love will heal the past hurts.  Not everyone I share my heart with is going to purposely hurt me, some will be unintentional.  The one I chose to give it wholly to in the future will hurt me at times, it goes with being in a relationship.  But that same person, can love the pain away and heal whatever harm is done.  It will mean being willing to be vulnerable, and take a chance on LIVING again, not just going through the motions.  Taking down the wall a brick at a time, and taking baby steps forward.

I want to walk the sandy beaches of life in a relationship again, allowing the waters of love to wash over me, feel the sun, breezes, and sometimes the necessary storms of emotions that come with opening up my heart again.  I want to LIVE life.

Drawbridge Up, Add The Piranhas

I slept like a downed tree last night, did not move at all once my eyes closed and the sandman found me.  I woke to Pixel kitten curled up against my head, and when I moved she protested loudly and just repositioned herself,  this  time with her ass against my face.  I moved her again, much to her  disliking, then she  started  the ear  licking assault. Guess she figured if we were going to start stirring she  might as well get me to feed her.  She is now curled up in a corner of the living room observing Noel playing, but not participating.   Perhaps she is feeling it from too much activity yesterday  or her instincts are telling her to just relax.  If  she doesn’t behave she goes into solitary confinement in my room so it is wise she is choosing to be a good  little kitty.

I sometimes wish that we had the ability to snap photos with our  brains  like we do our cell phone cameras.  I know the mind records it, but to be able to share  the  images  would be priceless.  One such picture  was the look on my niece, Diva Jeanne’s face  when she saw my choice for breakfast.  I guess I am PMSing, that or the full moon today is  totally screwing  with me.  The combo  of  the two could be the issue as well.  I had my coffee  in the microwave because it had become luke warm on my desk while I was creeping on Facebook friends.  I  spotted the bananas on the counter and I instantly knew what I wanted to eat.  I pulled out a small,  glass salsa bowl, opened the fridge and grabbed the Hershey’s chocolate syrup, coating the bottom.  Then I tore into a banana and started dunking it,  OMG that was outstanding, YUMMMMM!  Diva Jeanne had the funniest look of confusion and disgust on her face.  Guessing she never saw chocolate  covered  bananas at King’s  Island or  festivals.  The only thing that would have made it better was  dipping it in crushed peanuts after the run through the chocolate. I wanted to top it off with Highlander Grogg coffee but we ran out so it is just  plain or caramel truffle.

So it is thinking time this  morning.  I tend to do that on Sunday mornings, as church at the moment is not on the agenda.  My youngest brother, the Denis Leary look-a-like, periodically puts out a teaser for me to join him for mass.  Not my cup of tea though I will give him that one of the most peaceful places to go and think just might be an empty church early before mass in the morning.  Candles  lit and the sun just peaking over the horizon bringing all  the stained  glass windows to colorful  life.  In the older churches the air is cool  from the marble and other stone, and is still very dimly lit and oh so quiet.  That is a great thinking place.  But for now,  sitting here at my desk, coffee  close at hand, ‘Celtic Shore’  CD playing in the background, mind cleared of the  cobwebs  of  sleep and dreams I cannot recall or piece together  from the fragments of images still lurking in the shadows.

Morning Thoughts:

Sometime this past week I stopped caring about the ending marriage.  I don’t know what happened, or when I rounded that bend,  but I realized this morning when I saw the countdown on the desktop of my PC that it is 8 days until the  divorce hearing to finalize the end of my marriage.  It used to be painful, now my thought today was “hell still over a week??”  Guessing that is a good sign but still shocked  me.  Lord Voldemort was here Friday to look at my car because the brake lights are not functioning.  When he was leaving he said something and we had a playful exchange of words that left us both laughing.  It started to strike me then that I  just don’t care anymore.  It was far different from the daggers I usually glared at him, or sarcastic remarks, I just really didn’t care.  THANK YOU 8 POUND 6 OUNCE BABY JESUS!!! (That one is for you, Debbie!)  I almost told him to just skip the addendum on the paperwork for the season tickets to the Bengals  games.  I had noted about a week back that those were not in the decree paperwork and wanted an addendum added that I get the tickets, of  course I’d be paying for them, every other season and also have half of any sale of the seat license.   I decided screw it,  I will buy my own tickets or find someone that has them for sale when I want to go.  Meanwhile I will just go down and tailgate with Ron and Tom and their gang and then stay back and watch the game on the TV in the RV.  Assuming they sell out the games that is.  So, guess I need to contact he who shall not be named and let him know tickets just are not an issue.

I canceled my Match.com membership, just not willing to play the damn blind dating game.  My heart is NOT going to be a part of the equation so why get into that?  Those guys are seeking partners and commitments  I am seeking friends with benefits on my terms,  so it was a waste of money.  My cash flow is tight enough at the moment thanks to Pixel’s surgery and a day off  without pay (still a tad bitter over that).  The whole point of my getting a second, part-time job,  was to add to the cash flow to pay off my student loans not to replace what is lost when the full time employer decides to save money by cutting my hours.

“Life is always going to be stranger than fiction, because fiction has to be convincing and life doesn’t.” ~Neil Gaiman

Enter stage left,  Long Beach.  I mentioned him yesterday, the one trying to change my mind about all men are pigs.  Seems at some point he stumbled on my former blog page, and  used to periodically follow them.  Now he is one of my daily readers, ever since finding out I was  divorcing.  He has determined that I will be his wife.  I mentioned this to the Divas, there was a collective “aw hell  no”.   They know me like no one else,  they have seen this stubborn streak.  It runs  wide and deep in me.  How much so?  Well  picture a face off between me and a tornado, my dumb ass standing in the front yard being pelted with debris, fist raised at the approaching funnel screaming “f*ck you this is MINE and you cannot have it!”  Yes,  my sorry self  facing it down to death.  I’m that flipping stubborn.

There have been a lot of red flags in this for me so far, like distance.  He lives in Long Beach, California, I live here in Cincinnati,  Ohio.  I hate hate (emphasizing here) HATE to fly.  Requires a good size drink, extra strong, and a Xanex to even get me to consider boarding the plane.  Then I  find out his birthday is 1/27/67.  BACK UP THE TRUCK FRED!!!! He who shall not be named, 1/27/65.  BIG FLASHING RED LIGHTS AND FLAG WAVING.  Aquarius is the single worst sign when it comes to compatibility with Taurus.  Trust me after 22 years married to one I can tell you it is just flat out bad karma.  Never dull,  with plenty of rough seas, can you say I DON’T THINK SO!  Seriously? Same sign, same damn birthday, lands points on  my side of the board. He is Irish Catholic and plays the bagpipes, apparently rather well and travels to Ireland now and then.  Points scored with the younger brothers in the religion and musical taste columns,  no doubt. However, I keep finding lies and holes in his story. I DON’T THINK SO PAL THIS GIRL JUST AIN’T THAT STUPID! Liars I do NOT need.  CREEPER comes to mind.

Marti is  ::Thinking:: maybe it’s easier to keep the wall up…and dig a moat…and add piranhas…

Yeah, thinking keep  the drawbridge UP on the castle, Princess, and OVER stock the moat.  Heart still locked up and securely behind the castle walls, full guard posted on the parapets, battle ready.