Caledonia

I don't know if you can see
The changes that have come over me
In these last few days I've been afraid
That I might drift away
I've been telling old stories, singing songs
That make me think about where I've come from
That's the reason why I seem
So far away today

[Chorus:]
Let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia, you're calling me, now I'm going home
But if I should become a stranger
Know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

Now I have moved and I've kept on moving
Proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing
Found others on the way
I have kissed the fellas and left them crying
Stolen dreams, yes, there's no denying
I have traveled hard, sometimes with conscience flying
Somewhere with the wind

[Chorus]

Now I'm sitting here before the fire
The empty room, the forest choir
The flames have cooled, don't get any higher
They've withered, now they've gone
But I'm steady thinking, my way is clear
And I know what I will do tomorrow
When hands have shaken, the kisses float
Then I will disappear

I'm not sure there is anything on earth more inspiring than Scotland. I'm not a well traveled person, and the few trips I've taken have a common theme of US Naval bases involved. Norfolk, VA was the first. I hitched a ride with my brother Gene, his wife Jackie, and baby Sara as they returned to their home from a vacation in Maine. It was my first foray out of New England, and was the longest car trip EVER. LOL, what I remember most from that trip was eating the wrong combination of food in the car, and getting horribly ill, and puking all over his new car. SORRY GENE!! LOL. I was young, only in 7th grade then, and was much impressed by the local mall, and their beautiful neighborhood. I remember my sister-in-law had the patience of a saint with me.
My next major trip was again to visit my brother Gene, this time in Scotland. He was stationed at the base in Dunoon, Scotland. My plane touched down early in the morning after an all night trans-Atlantic flight. I hadn't slept a wink, and was quite nauseous from the trip. Somehow belly-aches, me, and my brother seem to go hand in hand. As I got off the plane, I was greeted by pipers in full regalia, skirling out a traditional melody, something I'd never heard in my life. My flight was in the summer of 1989, about 6 months after the terrorist bombing of Pan Am flight 103 that killed so many, and landed in Lockerbie, so airport security in Glasgow was very tight. Once out of the airport, we had to take a ferry across a loch, and then an almost 2 hour car ride to Dunoon.
Scotland was incredible. Rich, full of hills, mountains that descended into beautiful lochs, and sheep. Yes sheep. Sheep everywhere, on the hillsides, in the glens, walking in the friggin street. The friggin street with one lane, that is. One lane and small side turnoffs, just in case you meet an oncoming car, one of you can pull aside. Yeah, good luck with that. Just for shits and giggles though, if you hit a sheep because it just happens to walk in front of your car...you need some serious cash. Pay for the sheep you killed, any offspring it might have had, and all the wool it would have produced during it's lifetime. I'm thinking people must drive pretty slow in Scotland, God knows I would.
I hadn't studied up on the history of Scotland, so the sites that I visited didn't impact me the way they would now. I didn't understand about Bannockburn and Robert the Bruce, and it wasn't until last year and a most excellent historical romance that I finally got a decent grip on Mary, Queen of Scots. But even ignorant of it's unbelievable cultural heritage, unlearned about its historical significance, it called to me. I FELT how it's past went back thousands of years, how the land was steeped in stories about it's people, about a land full of bloodshed and strife, and extermination. I never did visit Culloden, and we didn't get far north enough to see the fabled Loch Ness. But I did walk the Royal Mile, visit Edinburgh Castle, and Holyrood House. I visited the seat of the Duke of Argyll, and his castle, Inverary, and participated in one of the grandest Highland Games ever held. And I visited Stirling. There were some ruins that we visited as well, and I think I enjoyed those as much or more than the intact castles. Toward Castle was one which let me really use my imagination. I needed to understand how they lived, how it all felt, and wanted to really BE in the moment. I remember that as my brother and his wife strolled the Isle of Skye, I found a castle being renovated, and just sat, and felt, and penciled some drawings. I was in love, and I didn't want to leave. I understood my surroundings, the land, because it was so much like being home in Maine. The same climate, though not as harsh in the winters, and much the same landscape with the rise and fall of the horizon. In the years since my visit, I've done tons of research and reading on Scotland, and I know it's history and stories intimately. I even began teaching myself Gaelic, to better understand it's past, but shortly gave up because it's clearly impossible. LOL. And so I say that there is nothing more inspiring than a nation that suffered political and military persecution for centuries at the hand of the English, to the point of having the clans extinguished. And yet every year, clan pride erupts at the various Scottish Pride festivals all over the world. They have remembered their heritage, they have preserved their culture, and they have thrived as a nation, although still under British Rule to this day.

I want to go back some day, for an extended stay. I used to joke in college that I'd run away to Scotland and become a sheep farmer some day, although I know I'd be terrible at it because I'd never want to slaughter any of them. But what mostly goes thru my head when I think of Scotland is the hope and belief that Charles Edward Stuart, lovingly referred to as Bonnie Prince Charlie, would win Scotland back for the Jacobites, and that they would be a free and independent nation at last. I think of the campaigns across the nation, battles fought by men and boys who were armed with little more than pieces of wood, pitchforks, shovels, and an odd claymore or rifle. I think of them going from town to town and spreading Charlie's infectious hope, singing Mo Ghile Mear, 

and inspiring everyone who was fit enough to hit something to join their army. And I sob to know that none of them survived. I think of them slowly starving as the campaign pushed them further north, towards the fields at Culloden where they would all die because no quarter would be given. And I wonder how the history of our lives would all be different if Charlie had won. To this day, it amazes me that the siren song that lured so many to certain death is still played throughout Scotland and Ireland today, still inspiring people, still instilling hope in their breast when in all reality the song is a dirge. It was the pied piper of it's time. Yet the lyrics are timeless....

Leave the field and leave the fire
And find the flame of your desire
Set your heart on this far shore
And sing your dream to me once more

[Chorus:]
'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear
'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear
Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin
Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo ghile mear

Now the time has come to leave
Keep the flame and still believe
Know that love will shine through darkness
One bright star to light the wave
In all of my trials and tribulations, I think back on the Scots and always remember that if they can survive what happened to THEM, then my world is really really....a fine piece of haggis. LOL.

Holy Mother of God!!!

LOL, I haven't been able to stop giggling now for 2 hours. My new friend, who today expressed the wish to continue seeing me on a very regular basis, stopped over today for lunch, chat, and...other stuff. I told him, afterward, when my knees were not quite working anymore, that if I had to make new memories in my life, he was a GREAT person to be making those memories with. He's funny, he's WOW in terms of looks, svelte, strong, intelligent, politically savvy, got a fantastic job, and is an unbelievable .....hmm, you fill in the blanks here. He understands what I'm going through, and isn't the type of person that will keep saying "move on". He's patient, willing to talk about it with me, and offers non-depressing advice and comments that make me just feel better. Yes, I know I'm better than the situation, yes I know that I don't deserve the kind of treatment I've received...but sometimes making your brain understand these things and be OK with it is a whole different story. I like that he's not threatened by the fact that I'm still dealing with this whole mess. I like that he agreed with my choice of amputation, that he knew being home gave me too much time to torture myself with looking at the page of a man that I can't be with anymore. I like that he looks forward to taking me places and showing me off. I like that he loves the way I look NOW, not how I could look if I lost weight. I like that he doesn't make me feel self conscious about how I look, that he loves holding every part of me. I like that he's teaching me that sex doesn't have to hurt to feel amazing, but I like that he can still be rough when I want him to be. And the things he said... He said one thing in particular that made me snuggle into him harder. "I've met alot of women, but you are exemplary. You are the kind of woman that I was still thinking about a week after I met you, the kind that made me have to talk to you again, and the kind where one meeting would never be enough. Eighty percent of women are not as good as you are, the other twenty percent, well, they might be as good, but I doubt it." Ok, kudos and MAJOR points for that one. LOL...there was another saying of his that had me laughing for a good 15 minutes, and I swear will be my book title some day, but that's a whole other blog!
He's a most fabulous distraction, and I'm very lucky to have met him. I'm so thankful the universe saw fit to send me a new friend too...maybe it's that Secret again!

Putting an End to the Bullshit

So, I allowed the grade school games to affect my life for just long enough. Today, Memorial Day, is the opportunity I choose to end the nonsense for good. Some may notice a conspicuous absence from my Friends Column. Yes, Mr. is gone. I had to amputate today...inflict a wound in the short term to gain greater health in the long run. He made a decision, for better or for worse, and so did I, for that matter. Our continued conversations, occasional lunches, and other contact just keep me in a bad place, ultimately. Sure, I do love to hear him laugh over something I wrote, and I will miss hearing his mirth. But we seem to be toxic to each other lately...at least on my end I suppose. To be disrespected on his page in the public comments section is over the top. I may jab, and cajole, laugh, and point out the painfully obvious, and yes, on my page I've said my peace, while still trying to remain civil and protect names and identities. But not everyone plays by my rules. And I won't allow that behavior to affect me any longer because I am so much better than all of it. He & I had a conversation about it, and he agrees, has promised to "address" the situation.
So the craziness ends today for good, because I say so. It's really too bad that a man can be so blind to the enormity of the mistake he's made, and even more so...that he could refuse to change course even after he's seen the error. Inconceivable. Why?

Another Country Heard From

Lately, new people have been finding my blogs, which makes it damned inconvenient to have to restrict access because of one idiot. Anywho, a couple of days ago, one of Mr's other former lovers contacted me to sympathize with how he had not lived up to being the person he seemed to be. This is becoming more and more a theme in his personality, as I'm seeing it in a new perspective lately. So this lady, who offered Mr help and advice on his family situation felt like she'd been treated wrongly. She went on to offer me happiness and healing, and told me she was also moving on in her life. And perhaps that's what made me be assertive and raw with him on Sunday.
He thinks I'm Mean. LOL. He had a hissy fit...for real. But the honest to god truth is that I am SO not his beck and call girl. He has one of those living right down the street from him, willing to drop everything at a moment's hesitation for any whim of his. More power to ya girlfriend. I'm willing to try this friend thing, but it will be on my terms, it will be respectful and considerate, or it will not be at all. My time is valuable, and precious, and I will not WASTE it...period. No more excuses, and above all, no more lies. You'd think he'd understand, at this point, that I can uncover any lie he gives me. LOL. So here are my ideas about friendship:
You don't use that person without giving back. You call when you can't make it, or are going to be late. You reciprocate. You care about that person's well-being, and you "have their back". You respect them, trust them, and are considerate in your actions towards them. You don't lie to them.
The nice part, for me, about hanging out with different guys now is that I get to see the differences in how I get treated....most noticeably socially. Mr wasn't awful, but he didn't like to call on the phone, and wouldn't necessarily call me unless he needed or wanted something. He'd occasionally call me to thank me, which was super, and he'd let me know he made it home ok, or he called to see if I made it home ok. But I always felt I had to try so hard to maintain his interest all the time. Now I have someone that texts me in the morning to wish me a beautiful day, just because. He calls out of the blue to see how I'm feeling, and to ask me what I'm thinking about. What a fantastic feeling to think that someone might actually be thinking about me without my having to remind him first. LOL. Well, and he is a magnificent piece of eye candy to boot. Life is good.
My new friend and I have a date tomorrow, and I so can't wait for it. I think we may be debutting as a couple at the June Merava...but I'll have to update on that at a later time. And as for the lady that contacted me....Your story is appreciated, and you have been heard. I wish you love and happiness in your life as well, and hope you can move on to better pastures.

Gotta Have Faith

For two nights now, I've been struggling with what to write. I knew I had a blog inside of me that had to come out, but I couldn't find the path, couldn't find the story that needed to be told. I've made some assertions in the last few months, and I mean to stick by them, no matter who, no matter what. One assertion was that my blogs are for me, and written because I am a blogger, plain and simple. As necessary as breathing, eating, and enjoying the erotic arts, is writing to me. The other assertion was that I was not, nor have I ever been engaging in a so-called "blog war". The temptation is there, and it makes me struggle. Nights like last night make me want to strike verbal blows against the ignorant and grade-schoolish behavior that is so eagerly displayed.....like it is a trait to be admired. My Sims have a social feature listed under "Mean". They can go "Nyah Nyah"....this is the kind of behavior I'm referring to. So I took some time to try and let it go. I followed the proper channels, let Mr. know his passwords have been breached again, and just calmly and rationally let him know that adolescent games do bother me because as I try to breathe, and let go, and just let him be him....and let me be me, the daggers and salt make it infinitely harder to stop being pissed, and bitter and filled with rage. We had a great conversation, and he apologized. The fault isn't his this time, but he accepted responsibility because he does care about my feelings still....and that is something. Because in the end...shit on your shoe is just that...shit. You have to wipe it up and toss it in the garbage where it belongs.
Part of moving on is separating yourself and making the memories stop hurting. Tonight on American Idol...(congrats to David Cook by the way...he was my choice, and NO, I didn't friggin vote) I saw a performer that still has the ability to touch my girlishness. Someone who's songs became intrinsic to our relationship, and our myriad breakups. George Michael came out on stage and performed a song from "Listen Without Prejudice"...one of my all time favorite albums of his. He made me giddy inside to see him again, even though he's aged tons, and couldn't really sing because he was sporting a bad cold. But to hear the idols sing Freedom, and Father Figure, and Faith...it was one of those memories that curls in the pit of your stomach like warmed cognac....
That's all I wanted
Something special, something sacred
In your eyes
For just one moment
To be bold and naked, At your side
Sometimes I think that you'll never
Understand me
Maybe this time is forever
Say it can be

That's all you wanted
Something special, someone sacred
In your life
Just for one moment
To be warm and naked, At my side
Sometimes I think that you'll never
Understand me
But something tells me together
We'd be happy

I'd listen to that in the car, Mr, and it was you and me in those hushed words. Both of us wanting and needing something the other never truly understood, and finally coming to understand that it was great because it was tender, and loving, and heated... So listening to it tonight, knowing that you do care in your way....made me understand the path of the story, the tone of the blog. Again, it's never been a war on my side because these words, like I told you 10,000 times....are for you. I'm glad of your successes yesterday, and proud that you are taking control. Thank you for your encouragement and wonderment towards the stories I wrote for you. And thank you for dealing with the daggers in my back for me. Somehow your Capulets found my courtyard too.

Lions & Tigers, and of Course a Bear to Poke

Single is...interesting. More and More interesting as each day goes by. I took a chance this weekend, and had an unbelievable time. I made my way back to NH, back to Jill's, for the first time as a single girl. It was a small private gathering, just 4 of us, and the only person I knew and had met for real was Jill. The two gentlemen, although I'd chatted quite a bit with one of them, would be new.
Mind-blowing, there aren't any other words for it. Liberating, maybe. Exhausting, surreal...
Yes, I missed him...but reality was handy, and Jill a fountain of wit, and reassurance. I was treated like a treasure, my pleasure the day's top priority. I was catered to...coddled by both gentlemen who made sure I didn't have much time to dwell on the past. LOL. I also made two new friends, people who would love to hang with me and kick it. And MY GOD, are they fine. Malcolm, who happens to live in Portland even has a daughter my daughter's age...so the possibility even exists in the future for play dates and mini-golf.
I had to pass Mr's house on the way home, and with my luck, he was outside and saw me. I called him, so he'd know I wasn't stalking him or exhibiting evil intent. I still would like to be friends some day, and getting over the rage and bitterness will propel me towards that goal.  Malcolm had some kind words for me last night. And Mr, he actually came to your defense. You know the real story about yesterday, because you asked for it. So my words are, poke, poke....
"What are you gonna do about it, BITCH!"

My Flyboy

I got an offer today to fly to Memphis for a spell, and chill out. Memphis? one might ask...but Memphis is where my flyboy lives. Yep, my "free pass" previously mentioned, is an amazing gentleman that works for an airline, and frequently makes stops in Portland, which is how I met him several years ago now.
We had been chatting via email for a long bit, telling stories back and forth. HJ is a wonderful communicator, and I always liked the fact that if I emailed or texted him, he responded and was excited about chatting with me. He LOVED hearing what I had to say, and was almost as opinionated as I was, or still am. And DAMN but if he wasn't a fine piece, to boot. I first met up with him on Christmas Day, 2005. Wow, seems so long ago. My Christmas Day had been hellish, and I was seeing Mr, but, as in most holidays back then, he wasn't available because of family. My sister had hosted the holiday, but hadn't been feeling well, and had acted truly atrocious to myself and my daughter. She just didn't want any noise that day. So I came home that night around 6 ish, and had a message waiting from HJ inviting me to meet him for a drink at the Doubletree in Portland. I decided that I needed a real Christmas Present, so I went.
The irony, at the time, was that the hotel was located right down the street from Mr's house....and back then I drove the flower shop van, emblazoned with the logo all over it. Hard to miss. I kind of chuckled at my audacity to be pulling a free pass right under Mr's nose, and as I started to really think about it, got kind of scared and tried to hide the van in back of the hotel. It didn't matter, he didn't know. But HJ was coming back from a Christmas Dinner, and I met him in the lobby, and, for a first time meet, he was everything I'd hoped. There were no drinks to be had in the entire city of Portland that night...it seemed all the bars were closed because of the holiday. But HJ was prepared, and had my favorite Merlot up in his room. LOL, yeah I know it's kind of sappy, but I thought it was really sweet that he'd remembered what my favorite wine was just from our emails, thought it was great that he prepared for ME, and knew I wasn't leaving without sumthin sumthin anyway, so why waste time.
It was a really amazing night, he was wonderful, and gentle, and dirty all at the same time. He always seemed to know what I wanted, but would make me ask him for it....explicitly. I was shy, I didn't want to say it. But he got every word out of my mouth he wanted to hear, and then some. It was hot and sweaty, it was relaxed, it was fun. The attraction was ridiculous, we couldn't stop that night. If I hadn't had to go home because of my daughter, we wouldn't have slept at all, it would have gone past the 4 times into double digits. He was insatiable, and I matched him in my eagerness.
The second time I saw him was in January of 2007. Mr had stood me up at NYE, and I hadn't seen or talked to him for 16 days. LOL, on THE DAY I was going to go pick up HJ at the airport, Mr. shows up in town...to talk. I was incredulous. Like, you can't be serious...NOW??? Mr. and I went to lunch at KFC, where I cried like an ass because I was so hurt and furious at him, and watched the clock out of the corner of my eye so I wouldn't miss HJ's flight. Mr. knew something was up, and he knew I was lying to him about where I was going. But, at the time, who cares? After a no-show, $250.00 waste of money, and 16 chicken shit days of no talking, I don't need to explain where I'm going or who I'm seeing, true? HJ's flight was right on time, and I made it there to get him. We stayed at the airport hotel, and it was another magical night. We even took time to go into Portland, down to the docks to pick him up some fresh "bugs", or lobster as we call em in lay terms. I hate seafood, hate the smell, the taste, the texture. Walking into that shop was torture, it was awful. HJ laughed so hard to see my crinkled up face, even tried to hide my face in his wool coat so i wouldn't smell it so bad. We caught supper at the Pizza Hut Bistro, had pizza bar and drinks, then headed for a night in. No TV, no competing with Red Sox, just his full attention, and wave after wave after wave of pleasure.
We've always stayed friends, thru the years. He obviously knows that I see people, and I surely know that he's not celibate, but when we chat or talk, however infrequently, that fire is instantaneously there again. His airline had stopped flying into Portland, but miraculously, they are again. We're trying to co-ordinate some Maine time when he comes up here, but he's really pressing for me to fly down to Memphis...to go to him for once, now that I have no commitments romantically. He's asked me for a week, I've told him I'll consider a weekend to begin with. He does have some odd habits, although endearing. He's an old sailor, and loves to tell stories about his days in Japan, or Spain. He makes me laugh a lot, even if it's just at him as he applies his shirt garters, or obsessively brushes his hair. He's a neat freak, I'm a total slob. But he's a genuine good guy at heart, and I certainly do have all the time in the world right now. HJ, you've always been there for me in the bad times, and I want you to know that I really do luv the mess outta you for that.
Damn, what is it with me and old sailors????