When I did the "What should I write about?" question on the "Why don't I do this more often?" post, it was something I had been thinking about doing for some time:  Listing various post ideas and asking for a vote.  I thought it would be an interesting experiment, but I confess that I am not happy with the results.  I don't like the feeling that I "should" write about something.  I guess that proves (along with the quality of my writing, of course) that I am no journalist.  Writing for deadlines is no fun.

Well, I think the museum won. 

Mr. Alt and I went to St. Paul to see the dress rehersal version of Prairie Home Companion.  I screwed up this year and didn't realize when tickets went on sale, so we missed the opportunity to get tickets to the live Saturday show.  Instead, we drove  to the pre-show on Friday night.  It was wonderful, of course.  The annual "talent twixt 12 and 20" show - talk about humbling!!!  These kids (aged 12 - 20) were astonishing!!  But that left us looking for something to do on Saturday.

We decided that the Minneapolis Institute of Arts was the best option.  The entire weekend was full of meaningful metaphor for me, but the journey to the museum revealed an interesting one.  Throughout most of our marriage, Mr. Alt has been the driver and I the navigator.  This works well for us.  I am an attentive and dedicated navigator.  I do my homework, map the route thoroughly, paying attention to detail, and closely monitor progress.  Mr. Alt is an equally dedicated driver.  He is very particular about driving.  He follows the speed limits, drives defensively, scans ahead, and generally is an excellent driver.  I am not.  Easily distracted, I have been in several minor car accidents.  I tend to miss little details like...um, STOP signs.  And when in a new environment that I am not familiar with, I am so busy fretting about the unfamiliar routes and signs that I end up all over the place.  Mr. Alt, for his part, is a questionable navigator at best.  He has a general idea of where we are to go, but fails to pay attention to the details.  Worse yet - he doesn't monitor our progress.... so we end up going in the wrong direction for some distances.

I was pondering this meaningful truth all the (slightly extended) way to the museum.  And for those who didn't pick up on it, it wasn't merely our reversed roles in the car I was pondering.  As it happens, our marraige works best while he is in the drivers seat -- as long as I'm navigating.  The reversed roles that have been enforced in the car for the past year have also blurred the lines in our marraige.  He can't go anywhere without me.  And since we live in a very small village, I have to take him everywhere he goes.  Our travel arrangements begin to look more like those of a parent/child relationship than a married couple.  He has no privacy, and I have to plan everything around his schedule.  The balance of power that has worked well for us for much of the previous 15 years becomes disarrayed.

This year has been a long one.  I am beginning to see the signs of a new spring.  I am looking forward to a return to the natural order of things.

So we get to the museum with me in this contemplative mood, and begin looking around.  He isn't really into the Asian pottery section, so I steer us toward the European galleries.  The first display I stop at is...

(....you didn't really think I was going to write this all at once, did you?)

Maybe someday everyone in America will be able to marry the person that they want to spend the rest of their lives with.

....But it would be nice if they could wear their attire of choice in their yearbook picture first.

We support you, Kelli Davis.

(Warning:  The following post exhibits foul language and a really crappy attitude)

I drug hubby out of bed this morning to go to spinning (his first time) and he finally decided he would go at the last minute, so.....off we charge, down the highway at 70 miles per hour to get to class just in time, and....

....who is standing at the front door but a friend of mine who says..."It's full."  It's full!??!!!  WTF???!!!  If I thought it was going to be full I would have fucking been here 15 minutes ago.  Then some guy rushed in the front door and the guy at the desk said "You better get in there!"  And I don't even know WTF that was all about - saving seats???!!!.

So hubby - who wasn't even going to go in the first place - wants to stay and work out.  So my friends are all trying to talk me into staying.  What they DON'T understand is:  I didn't come here to work out... I CAME TO SPIN!!!!!!!  So I end up driving around for 90 minutes waiting for him to get done.  And on the way home he wants to make plans for this afternoon.  MAKE PLANS!!!!!!!!!  This is a guy you have to Fucking DRAG OUT OF THE HOUSE WITH AN ATTITUDE ON A SUNDAY.  And he wants to make plans when I'm fucking OCD & OTR!!!!!

Good timing!

I want to fucking go to bed and read "Philosphy for Dummies" while watching home design shows until the Oscars come on and I DON'T WANT ANYONE TO FUCK WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!!

EDIT:  (This just in)  Why the hell did somebody hit my site when searching for "free naked dirty older ladies"???? 

No, No.  I haven't forgotten I live here.  I'm just REALLY REALLY busy right now!!!

A word of advice:  DO NOT go to the grocery store hungry!!!!  Of all the stupid mistakes I have made in my life, at least 50% (albeit the least important ones) involved being at the grocery store hungry!!

The good news:  Fresh Spring Rolls tonight (YUM!!)

On the fitness front:  GASP!!  WHEEZE!!

I'm trying to read and leave comments on all your blogs.  When I get that caught up with, I'll be returning comments here, and writing the story promised below.

Trek - THANKS!!  My daughter (oldest) has the BEST taste in music - especially GRRL bands!!!  She turns me on to greatest stuff!!

Whew!  Made it home from the weekend in St. Paul.  Had a blast and learned a lot of really amazing things.  I am too tired to post right now, but over the weekend I had SO many ideas inspired by the trip, so if you stop by here before I have a chance to post, please vote for one or more of the post ideas and I'll write about it:

1)  Road Music:  The Blind, the Lost Innocence of the 80's, and Mad Dogs & Englishmen.

2)  Whose idea was it to drive north in February???

3)  Marraige: - What IS the problem anyway??  (Hint:  there are 5!)

4)  Why did I throw his clothes in the lake??  I didn't even know him!!

5)  The Museum:  Who's that girl sniffling in the corner?

6)  I THOUGHT we were here to get AWAY from children!!! - And what's the deal with the parking anyway??

7)  How can the sushi be better in Iowa????

8)  Something I've forgotten...grab-bag category!  (Are you feeling lucky?)

See you all soon!!  (after I get some sleep in my own soft bed with my own yummy pillows)!!

I went to my spring paint workshop today and started working in watercolor.  This is my first painting, but you can't tell it's watercolor because I can't master the technique.  I am going to stick with watercolor througout the remaining 5 weeks of the workshop, but then I'll probably go back to my real love, oil.

I turn 40 and all of the sudden I have all these very unwelcome signs of aging!

First off, I don't mind a few grey hairs.  You don't even notice them, but I'm sure I have a least a dozen.  My sister ticked me off by pulling one out recently.  I told her - I earned 'em, I'm keepin' em!

But I do mind the stray hairs that are starting to appear as if by magic on my breasts!!!!  Trust me - that is one place you do NOT want to be hairy.  Hand me the tweezers!

And while I can remove the hair on my breast (just yucky to say that, isn't it??) I cannot do anything about the increasing number of freckles I am getting all over my chest.  It's not that I have anything against freckles on one's chest - it's just that I never had them before - so it's a clear sign of aging.  Face it - they're "age spots".

But the worst part is the "tags" I'm starting to get.  You know - they're the 3-D freckles that stick out and look like a little tag on your neck and sometimes face.  My aunt who is in her 60's is an attractive woman who has quite a few of these.

I will not go gently.  I'm getting them lasered off!!!!

Alien "I Will Survive" Link: [link] 

Last September I marched into my doctor's office, gave him some vague but true symptoms, and asked for a prescription of ProVigil.  My Doctor, much to my surprise, agreed to write it out.

ProVigil is a new and very interesting drug that's getting a lot of experimentation and trials in the military.  For prescribing guidelines, it has 3 basic applications:  1)  Narcoleptics  2)  Jet Lag  and 3)  3rd Shift Disorder.

Basically, ProVigil keeps you awake by stimulating the hypothalamus (but they don't know why it works).  It does so with none of the jittery side effects associated with most sleep inhibitors.  So you can see why the military might be interested.  I have none of the above 3 conditions, which is why I now question my Doctor's common sense, but who am I to complain? 

Unfortunately, my insurance didn't want to cover the $200 cost of 30 pills, so I had to buy them out of pocket.

It's been a while since I took them, now.  I found that they really helped me stay awake throughout the day with out the constant drag I had been experiencing.  But they didn't really help me focus or become more productive as I had hoped.

I also had to be very careful about not taking one too late (after about noon) or I would just end up being unable to sleep.

I didn't take them everyday.  But they did help me on days when I hadn't slept the night before.  Apparently the makers are doing some studies about Provigil treating some types of insomniacs, and I could certainly see it being helpful.

Anyway, the interesting thing is I have been working out several hours a week for almost 7 weeks now.  But for various reasons I have not worked out for nearly a week.  I will rectify this beginning tomorrow as I have a scheduled class that I will be in.  But the point is...today I could NOT stop yawning even after a good night's sleep.  I realized that even though working out has left me sore and tired, I do not have the brain-dead exhaustion and constant yawning that I suffered last fall.  I'm actually very alert, sleep well, and after vigorous activity like spinning I'm positively euphoric!

For a variety of well-documented reasons, exercise has pretty much cured (or at least treated) my symptoms of lethargy and depression - as long as I keep doing it, that is.

Anyway, I still have a refill left on the ProVigil.  I have no interest in spending $200, but I will probably refill it before the prescription expires - it's a good pharm to have around.

I was thinking of posting something to mark today, and this kept coming back to me.  I did post it originally back in September.  I made some minor changes.

An Open Letter to My Husband

On the way home the other day I wrote a poem in my head
About how we met, our mythology, the rock quarry swimming hole
And you riding on the back of my motorcycle, over loose gravel,
About how your almond eyes sparkled with un-named dares.

But when I sat down to write it, it came out silly and childish
An empty shell, a story with no depth or emotion.
So today, I composed a new verse, one about the last one
And how it didn't work when I tried to recapture it.

Why is it that I can hurtle through space with words in my head
That bring tears to my eyes?
And here I sit with no words, no poetry, no emotions painted on the page?

I wanted to tell you that I have always been here for you
Even if it seemed I was not.
I wanted to tell you that we have always been "we",
Even when you felt alone and abandoned, without a true friend.

I wanted to tell you that this, too shall pass,
Because we are together so much greater than the sum of our parts.
I wanted to tell you that you and your almond eyes are burned in my soul,
And I could not change that even if I were to try.

I wanted to tell you that we are so rich, so blessed, so rewarded
And so blind that the truth is almost beyond comprehension
Because who we were and who we are are one in the same
Even if for so long we have forgotten.

"Medusa means "sovereign female wisdom," in Sanskrit it's Medha, Greek Metis, Egyptian Met or Maat."

I found this on the web in a paper dated 1996, by Alicia Le Van.  I have not been able to authenticate the above statement.  The paper goes on to delve into the history of the Medusa myth and her transition into patriarchal societies.

"The mythological beheading of Medusa symbolizes the ultimate silencing of female wisdom and expression. It is the act which stops her growth, limits her potential, movement and cultural contributions. She is obliterated and her severed head is flaunted on the Acropolis and other works of art in pride of her and all women's subjugation by violent men. She is broken and her body enslaved. Her spirit, her mind, her spiritual powers are killed. Her once honored forces of female creativity and destruction are halted. Her role as dynamic mediatrix degraded. Her life-giving, death-wielding powers and wild forces of nature are controlled, tamed, and mastered by the male order. The cycles of life and nature are made to conform to his linear perspective."

Somehow, in researching Medusa, I came upon a Canadian site called FathersforLife.org.  It represents what a female Rush Limbaugh (???) might describe as Mascu-nazism. 

As usual, this seeming coincidence comes at a point when I most need to understand the roles of men and women and their ancient struggle against one another.

I had thought, that by reviewing where I had been, I could somehow determine, realize and understand where I am going.  But I was naive.  I thought I had all of the tools.  But I am missing one of the most important ones:  compassion.

I am lost.

[link]  Image by TypoGenerator, as copied from SilentScream's blog.

A few current items from my dear friend Lisyl from OD, and a final reminder to remember that disasters do no dissipate overnight: Only men can vote As Saudi Arabia conducts its first ever internationally sanctioned elections today, women have been relegated to the sidelines, having been excluded from either voting or running for office in the Kingdom. Though the ruling House of Saud claims the elections are evidence of democratic reform and progress, many human rights activists and women's advocates have called the effort "too little, too late." AlertNet.org/Reuters India: Killing of newborn girls continues despite decades-long ban India's gender imbalance has worsened in recent years, with only 927 girls per 1,000 boys now surviving until age of six. Although the government for decades has banned infanticide, selective murder of newborn girls continues in many parts of the country. The Christian Science Monitor Official: Nigeria a human trafficking hub Nigeria's labor and productivity chief Dr. Hassan Lawal says the country has played a "significant" role in the illegal trafficking of hundreds of thousands of women and children around the world each year, according to a new report. He also discussed cases of forced labor and trafficking involving men that have been largely unreported. AllAfrica Global Media/This Day (Lagos)

Tsunami Relief As the photos leave the front pages we may have forgotten that tsunami relief will be needed for months, even years.  If you have not had an opportunity to assist with Tsunami relief yet, consider giving even a small amount.  If everyone who reads this post gives an average of $20, we could raise a couple of thousand for the cause. [link]

I wonder how many people you or I would be connected to on tblog, using the rules of 6 degrees of separation?  I follow chains of links and often end up on blogs where the links have no one I know - except one person.  Sometimes there seems to be no rhyme or reason as to why the link is there.  Everyone's a teenager - except THIS one...or vice versa.  Some bloggers are ubiquitous.  Kurt Maddox, for instance, is surely linked to 50% of all tbloggers!!  Is it even possible to know all of the people who link to you?

Survey question(s):  What makes you add a link to your blog?  Does there have to be a personal connection?  Or do you consider adding a link if someone's post particularly moves you?  Do you always tell others when you add them as a link?  Do you have any procedures for removing links?

I've had a dream obsessing me for nearly a week.  It wants to be written.  I thought it NEEDED to be, but now thanks to my friend L, I am not sure...

My subconscious is not a subtle place.

The Wedding Dream

Act 1:  I am in my wedding dress having sex with my groom.  It's before the wedding.  The sex is the usual stuff of dreams:  erotic, athletic and amazing.

Act 2:  I am in a bathroom getting ready for the wedding.  A perilously OLD man comes into the bathroom.  At first I'm annoyed, but he clearly needs help with his hygenic problems.  I try to help him, try to change his diaper for him, but his problems are beyond me.  Suddenly he starts urinating everywhere.  He ruins my wedding dress.

Act 3:  The wedding is very soon and I am scrambling for something to wear.  I have some kind of sleeveless dress or shift that I found in my closet.  I think I have shoes, but I need hose.  And maybe some kind of accents.  I want to go to the re-sale store that is across the street.  My groom is reluctant to take me, but I really need him to come.  He comes with me, and relaxes, becoming solicitous and helpful, just as... 

I wake up - it's time for school.

Epilogue:
I've never really needed much in terms of dream analysis.  I mean, sometimes a dream dictionary comes in handy, but I usually know what my head is contemplating.  This dream left me sad for a few days - but grief is not a bad thing.  In the meantime, I wrote part 5.  But kept thinking that I should write about the dream.

Ever have a serious alcoholic in your life?  The rules are different.  Of course, I was spoiled.  My husband is a good provider and has been all through his heaviest drinking.  He would pass out on the couch, sometimes with a full drink in his hand.  Crown Royal whiskey, neat, was his drink of choice.  Several bottles a week.  He never failed to go to work the next day.  I quit working in part due to the burdens of family life with an alcoholic, but because of his job, we could afford it.

When we left for vacation a couple of years ago, we planned on spending the night in his home city.  He planned on going out with friends, and I knew (of course) that he would be very drunk.  So I suggested we save on the hotel by getting only one room that night and he could stay with his friend.  I would pick him up in the morning, and there would be enough space in one room for the girls and I to camp out.  But he didn't stay.  He came back to the room really really drunk.  I woke 2 of the girls up and moved them to the floor so he could have a bed to himself.  But for the longest time I could hear him moaning and groaning.  Finally he got up.  I was really worried about him stepping around on the floor with those little girls lying there.  I switched on the light and asked him several times what he was doing.  He continued to tromp around the room in a daze, and by now I was screaming at him, pulling on him, trying to wake him up and keep him away from stepping on the girls all at the same time.  I kept asking what he wanted.  But he wasn't conscious.  And I should have known better.  What does any drunk want in the middle of the night?  A place to pee.  And since we weren't at home and he was not awake, he couldn't find it.  He ended up pissing his drawers just as my oldest daughter woke up and pulled her head out of the way.  I led him to the bathroom to clean himself up.

I told the girls to sit tight and went to the front desk to rent the room next door.  We all moved into it, leaving him to sleep it off next door.  In the morning, he had no memory of it.

For the record, my husband has been sober for almost a year now.  I've found a few cool things here in the thrift store...

...and other things.

I think the time may have come to wean myself from the over-use of tblog I've been experiencing lately.  If you would like my e-mail address, I do check it regularly.  Please send me a t-mail with a request, or your e-mail address.

My good friend Lisyl, (that I met off friendster on a search of people w/in 30 miles) came over tonight.  After cleaning house all day I was tired.  We made sushi and soup, and ate take-out sesame and orange chicken with fried rice.  She brought a box of chocolates (see - I TOLD you she was a good friend).  And she put up with my hordes of children with grace and charm.

After dinner, we were planning to pick out a movie and I suggested Harold & Maude because she had never seen it.  The first time I saw Harold & Maude was during my long dark tea-time of the soul.  I belonged to this rinky-dink video rental place, where for $15 a mo (or something) you could take out movies as often as you like, up to 3 at a time.  Now I'm not a big video head (hubby is) but I like to make my values count, so I checked out a lot of movies while I was a member.  That's the only one I remember.  I remember it vividly.  I remember what my apartment looked like the day I saw it and how I felt that day.  If I tried hard enough I could probably remember how my apartment smelled, what I ate, and what I was wearing.

I was alone when I watched Harold & Maude.  I'm glad I was.  I fell in love with Bud and Ruth.  Unfortunately, Bud Cort didn't really do anything since, although he did play the vessal of God in Dogma.  Talk about a change!!!

Harold & Maude was released in 1971, when I was 6 years old.  But I saw it in, um, about 1987.  To see Bud Cort look so OLD in Dogma was, well disconcerting at best.

So, if you've the misfortune to not have ever seen the movie (and PLEASE don't WASTE your time on the musical!!!) here are a few quotes:

“Everyone has the right to make an ass out of themselves. You can’t let the world judge you too much.”

“Vice, virtue, it’s best not to be too moral - you cheat yourself out of too much life. Aim above morality.  If you apply that to life, then you're bound to live life fully”

"Try something new each day.  After all, we're given life to find it out. It doesn't last forever."

"You see, Harold, I feel that much of the world's sorrow comes from people who are this, [she points to a single daisy] yet allow themselvesbe treated as that [she gestures to a field of daisies]."

"Zoos are full, prisons are overflowing. Ah, my. How the world still dearly loves a cage."

"A lot of people enjoy being dead. But they are not dead, really. They're just backing away from life.  Reach out. Take a chance. Get hurt even. But play as well as you can."

"Well, then I must be off. We shall have to meet again."

~ Maude

(Continued from parts 1 - 4 - scroll down a bit to find them...)

So...Sam and I were working at the same place again.  I had a new bike.  I hadn't been entirely lonely of course.  I had had lovers.  Just no one special.

July 25th was Joe and Sue's wedding.  I kissed Joe once when he was single - no - he kissed me.  It was like kissing a brother (I can only assume).  I went to the wedding alone.  Since both Joe and Sue worked for the company, I knew practically everyone there.  I was hoping for a wedding party relative to be cute and available, but Sam kept catching my eye.  He had come with my boss, Wayne, and Wayne's girlfriend.

When Wayne was ready to leave, Sam appeared to want to stay, so I sweetly offered him a ride home.  By this time, Sam had been promoted.  He reported to a peer of mine, but not directly to me, which would have prevented our dating.  But I wasn't really sure what he was interested in.  He was playing it very cool.  Leaving the wedding, I asked him if he'd like to go for a ride on my bike.  Let me guess how that might have sounded to him:  "Would you like to spread your legs, snuggle up behind me with your crotch pressed to my ass, and wrap your hands around my waist while we drive 70 miles an hour with the wind blowing in our faces?"  He said yes.

I'd had girls on the back of my bike before, but never anyone that large.  He probably weighed 180 compared to my 110, so I was a little nervous.  In addition, he had never ridden, and newbies can throw off your balance.  But he did OK and so did I.  Soon we were headed to a literal "look-out point" that he knew of.  When we got there, there were several parked cars.  *giggle*  I'd only seen places like that on TV or movies!  But we were on a bike, so of course, we got off and hiked out onto the cliff ridge.

I don't remember everything we said that night, but I remember what we talked about.  And how I felt.  As we looked out over the lights of the city, we talked about our dreams and ambitions.  Our ethics.  What we wanted and who we thought we were.  We were a perfect match.  We believed in strength of character, in personal accountability, in definable goals.  We believed in the triumph of the soul.  He was a little different than anyone I had known, and a lot different than I had expected.  But I was a little confused.  Was this the same guy who had drunkenly hit on me a few months ago?  Had he changed his mind?  What the hell did he want with me?  When I pulled the bike up to his house that night to drop him off, he had never even tried to kiss me.

He had, however, suggested swimming at a rock quarry the next day.  I said I'd bring my bike....

The next morning, my roomie, Kate asked what I had planned.  I said I was expecting Sam to call me to go swimming.  That when when she uttered the now-infamous line, "YOU'LL go out with ANYONE!!!".  She's eaten those words since then, and she was a big part of my wedding.  But at the time her words made sense.  I had no business with this guy!  What did I think I was doing?  Biding time????

Sam called right on time, and I made plans to pick him up.  He told me that the rock quarry was on private property and it was not unusual for the county sheriff to issue tickets...was I OK with that risk?  I said sure (I didn't back down from dares easily, either).  What I DIDN'T know, was that the quarry was at the end of about 2 miles of thick gravel.  Sam had never driven a motorcycle.  So he had no idea how dangerous this was.  I had ridden the big bike for less than a year, and wasn't used to someone nearly twice my size on the back of it.  But when I saw the gravel, I was thankful that Sam couldn't see my face.  I set my jaw, sped up a bit, and looked for the path of least lethal resistance.  We made it to the pool.

(A Moon Poem for my dear friend.)

The Moon had been stolen by mice in the sky.
They towed it away just to make a cheese pie.

The people then mourned, all alone in the dark.
They hoped for a glimmer, seeing nary a spark.

And finally one said, "All this waiting is fruitless!
You may steal my clothes, but I will not go suitless!"

"For the moon - it was nothing but just a reflection.
And we can accomplish a moon resurrection!"

"With mirrors and pulleys and science and such,
We'll light up the night sky!  It isn't so much."

So off then he raced to accomplish his work.
The others just gaped, "Oh that guy's such a jerk!"

"To think that he thinks he can find a solution
To our serious problem of darkness pollution!"

And so they did dwell and the years passed away.
They got used to the darkness when there was not day.

And the stars seemed much brighter than they'd ever known
When the face of the moon, with the sun's light had shone.

So if you look up, and your moon is not there,
Take a bite of cheese pie, watch the stars... and beware.

A quick update on the midlife resolutions:

1)  Fitness - I think I am doing damn good.  I am going in 5 days a week.  I signed up for a premium class that basically is a shared personal trainer.  He got me running and today I ran 1.5 miles in 18 minutes.  That puts me in the 20th percentile compared to some chart using military personnel stats.  I was not unhappy with that.  If I keep up, I think I can hit 80% in no time.  I finished my first full spinning class - and then ran right out to buy a gel seat!  Ouch - that hurts my little butt-bones.  I feel strong and energized!

2)  Finance - Pretty good.  Not counting the treadmill we just bought, we are right on target.  my goal was to track every single purchase I made.  I do this by putting every receipt in my purse.  I keep an envelope in my purse, and every coupla days I put the receipts in the envelope and write the total and what they were for on the outside.  Each envelope lasts a month.  When I go to the store I have to ask myself...Do I NEED it?  Can I wait till tomorrow??  If the answers are no, yes, in that order, I don't buy it!!!  The treadmill was a big splurge, but hubby and I answered yes....  So, not including that, which is on credit, I saved almost $1000 this month (to pay off bills).  If I keep that up every month - woo hoo!

3)  Family - the fitness part is REALLY helping out the family part.  I am in a much better mood most of the time.  The two oldest girls have even mentioned it.  My goals here are not well defined, though.  So that's the next step....

4)  Fecal Connectivity (Getting my shit together) -This is basically organizational stuff.  I started devoting one day a week to cleaning my basement.  Only one day so far, tomorrow is day #2, but progress on the first day was phenomenal.  I also need goals here better defined.  And less time on tblog is job #1!!!!

(First - you MUST read parts 1, deux, and 3...just scroll back a little):

You might have wondered where Sam was during this long dark tea-time of the soul.

Well, our company split into two.  The former owners left after a contract dispute with the new corp. ownership.  They took most of the business with them and recruited much of the management team.  The ones who were left behind were a little bitter.  Including me.  And we were actually forbidden to socialize w/ people from the other company.  Not that they could fire us - but things were very messy, and nobody needed the extra drama.

Sam, who was entry-level, saw the writing on the wall and went over to the new place to work the advancement potential.  I didn't see him and didn't miss him.  He had never even been on my radar.  After a few months, my roomie Kate went there, too.  She came home that day and said "Alt! - Thay want you!  They just didn't know how to get ahold of you!"  Well, this was patently a line of bull - I couldn't have been THAT hard to get ahold of!  But they wanted me and they were offering me an olive branch and a way to save face.  I went to lunch with the VP (a man with a back-story all his own), shook hands and had a new job and a raise.

My first day on the job, I saw Sam in the hall.  He still had the long messy hair, looking a little less like Jack Black in Orange County than he used to.  For one, he was always slimmer than that.  Somewhere around here I have a picture of his butt back then.  It was supreme.  He still reeked of trouble.  One of those people who couldn't help but be larger than life.  You simply couldn't ignore him.  Every time I looked up, I would see him watching me.  And now I was single....

(You knew it was coming, didn't you???  You shoulda....)  TO BE CONTINUED...

(continued from Parts 1 and deux)

Well, this is the part where everything unravels.  Remember - I am only 22 here.  Sam is only 20.

I had been with Carl for nearly 4 years.  When I tried to break up with him, he did things like threatening to jump out of moving cars.  To be fair - alcohol WAS involved in that incident!  Even after he caught me with someone else in my bedroom at 8 AM (we were clothed by then, thank goodness!) he called me an hour later to say "I think we can work this out."  Since I couldn't get rid of him, I had ended up getting engaged to him.  Logical, I know.  But that's why I had the diamond on my finger.

Finally, his parents move to Arizona - half the country away.  He decides to join them, hoping I will follow, but prepared that I won't.  I do.  To give him back the ring and have final break-up sex.  The end of Carl.

Dan was actually gone before Carl.  I don't think he liked sharing.  That's important in the 2nd grade, but not so good when it comes to girlfriends with somebody else's diamond on their finger.  The end of Dan was a little messy, but mostly he just stops calling, and he's never home when I do.  (he get's a reprise, later, though).

At the tender age of 22, I found myself single for the first time in, well -ever!  I rushed right out, traded in my small motorcycle and bought a Honda Nighthawk 650 and had sex with the salesperson.  He was nice to look at, but not too bright, so clearly a one-afternoon stand.  I took a lot of rides.  I spent my weekends and evenings riding.  Sometimes I camped where I stopped.  I felt very alone.  This went on for about 6 months.

(yep - it's what you thought - to be continued)