What will I do for Valentine's Day? I’ve got extensive plans: first I’ll see the UMs off to their respective Valentine's dates and, shutting the door behind them, will smile a secret smile at the night I have ahead of me. They have no idea!!   I’ll begin with a glass of wine to relax me. I’ll feel the dry smoothness slide down my throat and warm me from the inside out. Mmmmmmm. Next I’ll go change into “something more comfortable”…yes it’s cliché, but it’s cliché for a reason!   I’ll pull my hair up and pin it off my neck. I’ll stretch languidly…   I’ll pour another glass of wine; yes impulsive, yes eager!!   I’ll take care of the pets, feeding, tending, so they won’t bother. I’ll next turn down the lights, turn off the TV…setting the perfect mood.   Another glass of wine (naughty girl), and then….   I’ll whip out the sudoku and beat its ASS. I’ll move to the crossword, Ha! It’s only Thursday-- 3 out of 5 stars!! I almost pity it. Same for the jumble, the cryptograph, my hot fingers gripped on the strong shaft of the pen,….oh to have a worthy entanglement, but no. Perhaps Saturday, although more likely I’ll have to wait for Sunday’s 5 of out 5.   With my accomplishments, and a satisfied but sexy sheen of triumph covering my countenance, I’ll have more wine. Then some more.   I’ll reflect on my life—so long (already 43!), and yet so bloody short. I’ll settle into myself, contemplating with full awareness and keen self realization the status of this young, yet so, so, so old heart. So fucking old.  I’ll remember its triumphs, it’s agonies of defeat. The highs, yes, but also all.of.the.lows. Every last one.   I’ll have more wine now. Little more. The tears, the pent up tears prickling the back of my eyes will spill…so will the wine.   I’ll clean up the wine and pour another, my vision blurred from the now-incessant tears. This is where the sobbing begins. My chest will heave, my breath catching again and again and again. Oh, the mascara will flow, the dark tracks descending my face as a metaphor for the trajectory of my intimate life, like a line graph jumping off a cliff.   I will repose, only lifting my head to slurp from the straw I have now stuck into my tumble---glass of wine. The fetal position is all that awaits me yet on the night of hearts and lovers---St. Valentine’s.   So basically…no special plans…”the usual.”   J Tee hee

I'll be fasting today to remind me when feeling like an asshole, it's best to keep my mouth shut (metaphorically and literally). :(

Hiatus...My family, my work, my friends and my body are better things to focus on right now. Friends are welcome.

I am spoiled! I've just returned from a magical week in northern California. Vacations are so good; home is good too.Thanksgiving is a less arbitrary holiday for me than are most others; it has always been our family's time. This time we included talk of my Grandfather--what to do with his ashes, going through some of his things and the attendant stories, the last days of his life, which happily included much laughter, both then and upon the hearing. All of this in no way filled the hole that persisted every beautiful day we were together for his not being there. But we were all the same in our rueful, smiling, remembering, laughing pain.

I went to the lake this weekend...soul rejeuvenated, senses revived, warmed and lifted by the embrace of acceptance and raw love...parents rock.