Angels in the architecture. Also, Sons of Anarchy. Related topics? Probably not.

I’ve been thinking about angels lately.

Not necessarily in a religious way.

Or maybe that isn’t true, I mean is there any other way to think of angels?  But for religion, would there be angels?  I think not.

But it’s not something I want to analyze and argue about.

What does it matter what I believe to be true anyway?  Isn’t it only important to me?  Does it hurt anyone else if I do or do not believe in angels?

In any event, I think I do believe in them.

I believe in them in a woo-woo way and also in a flesh and blood way.

Or maybe I’m confusing things.

What I’m trying to say is that I can see that throughout my life I have often asked someone out there (God? Angels? The Universe?) for help and it almost always shows up in the form of a person.  Did God/Angels/the Universe send the person, or is the person God/An Angel/The Universe.

The answer is probably YES….

Anyway.

I see angels in the architecture of my life.

And I’m so very grateful for that.

(moment of silence…. thank you)

And this is coming up for me now because, if you’ve been following along, I’ve recently had a little trouble (read: total fucking nightmare situation triggering huge fear, shame, anger, vulnerability, panic…it’s bad) which comes on the heels of losing my artistic genius mommy (who had great hair) to stupid fucking cancer, like, just yesterday. (ok, she passed in December, but usually it feels like yesterday) and other related horribleness.

So, in the middle of some pretty intense darkness, some completely unexpected help arrived and blew my mind.

An angel.

I have no other way to describe it.

And this Angel came to me through my blog.

Which blows my mind on so many levels (I have a blog?  I write?  I write about intensely personal  and oftentimes super-uncomfortable shit and other people actually read it?  And they laugh at the same shit I laugh at? And they take time out of their day to actually write me back? And they aren’t offended by how often I use the term “fuck”?  And now they offer to help me without having ever met me in person???!!)

I’m humbled.

I’m grateful for all the angels who have appeared in the architecture of my life (but I’m afraid to start naming them out loud because what if I forget one and hurt their angelic feelings?)(and then what if they get super pissed and start using their powers for evil?)(I would be fucked.) and today I’m especially grateful for the sweet angel who is helping me out based solely on the fact that we found one another on the worldwide interweb and we share some awful experiences and she isn’t offended by my vulgar language, presumably.

Thank you.  Hand-on-heart thank you.

On a lighter note:

Is anyone else around here obsessed with Sons of Anarchy?

My sassy Virgo seester turned me onto the show and I CAN’T STOP WATCHING.

I’m on Season 4 now and I’m trying to pace my viewing so I can enjoy it for a little bit longer.

Ha.

Top Ten Things I Wanna Say About Sons of Anarchy:

1.  Jackson “Jax” Teller.  If you don’t know why that statement is number 1 on this list, do yourself a favor and take a peek at this dude.  (ok, if you’re a guy, you might not be as excited about this, depending on your sexual orientation)  He’s ridiculously good looking.  Not just that, he’s dead sexy.  Also, the actor who plays Jax is British (or something like that) trying to play a California biker dude — it’s interesting listening.  He mostly nails it, but some stuff is… off.

 

2.  I don’t even really like giant back tattoos, or blondes, or stringy hair or guys who wear lots of big rings (so they can cause more damage when they hit people….) and I would totally do Jax Teller.  In a heartbeat.  No questions asked.

3.  Did you know that if you ever get kicked out of a motorcycle club (read:  violent gang) they peel off your huge gang tattoo?  Or they just kill you.  Honestly it’s best to just not get kicked out.

4.  According to Sons of Anarchy, motorcycle gang dudes hug each other a lot.  Like, they are very loving to one another.  Sometimes they even kiss.

5.  It turns out you can’t just join a motorcycle gang — you’ve got to be, like, an apprentice for a seriously long time and then they might let you join, assuming you survived the apprenticeship.

6.  Motorcycle gang guys take their leather “cuts” very seriously.  Do not fuck with a biker guy’s leather jacket.  FYI.

7.  You should probably not ever touch one of their motorcycles either.

8.  Horrific violence is less horrific if there’s a great soundtrack going on while the violence is happening.  It’s weird.  It becomes more dreamlike and less patently offensive.  Bravo, Sons of Anarchy?

9.  Women who love motorcyle gang dudes are basically fucked.  These guys are constantly up to outlaw stuff, never call home and are surrounded by skanky chicks who wanna have sex with them all the time.  And you’re not really allowed to question anything they do….  Oh, and if they are in jail, you are totally allowed/expected to fuck one of the other motorcycle gang dudes.  I would suck at being an “old lady” to a biker dude.  At least I know that now…..

10.  If you’re gonna be a woman who loves a motorcycle gang dude, fall in love with the head honcho cuz then the other bitches have to show you respect…. Ha!

 

xoxo

kim

p.s.  yes i’m still in puerto morelos and NO, they haven’t arrested the asshole who stole all my shit…. the good news is that i haven’t seen him around town or heard from him so maybe he is really gone.

p.p.s.  my baby boy turned 20 this week.  WTF?

p.p.p.s.  oohhhhhhh, i experienced my first almost-hurricane (Ernesto) — yikes!  i was scared but everything was fine – lots of rain and wind but very manageable.  i am stocked up and ready for the next one though…..

 

So. I’m back in Mexico. Seriously. (And now I can write a bestseller, probably…)

I don’t even know where to start this blog post.

So.

I’m back in Puerto Morelos…. (yay?)

If you’ve been following along, you know that I just left Puerto Morelos in late June and that I was planning to spend a few months in Colorado and then return here to start my NEW JOB (!!!) in the fall.

And you also know that I left my house in the care of someone because everyone knows that you can’t leave a house empty in Mexico.

And you might know, or have guessed, that the someone that I left in the house was a person who I had previously (and erroneously, it turns out) referred to as “a nice man”….

CONGRATULATIONS ON MAKING ANOTHER SPECTACULARLY BAD DECISION REGARDING A MAN, KIM.

Turns out this man is not a nice man.

(which I knew or should have known before the leaving-him-in-my-house decision)

He is, in fact a con man.  A drug addict.  A thief.  A pathological liar.  A sociopath.

(and those are the nice words for him)

(motherfucker is one of the bad words for him)

(also pendejo and cabron)

And in the four weeks that I was away from my house, he (a) hot-wired my car and was stopped while driving it and now it is impounded by the Federales and I will probably never see it again and (b) cleaned out the house — stole all the appliances, TVs, electronics, the AIR CONDITIONER, pretty much anything that could be relatively easily removed from the house and sold, including my hot pink yoga-fucking-mat.

(the yoga mat?  that is just mean.)

AND

(c) the dude rented my house to another family.

Yep.

Miraculously (in my opinion) the other family just happened to ask a friend of mine to help them move into my house.  And my friend was all “what the fuck?” and “let’s call Kim!” and “dude, where are all the appliances?”

And that is how I found out.

(and, oh my god, i couldn’t believe it, couldn’t wrap my head around it, kicked in the stomach feeling, intense shame and humiliation and what-have-i-done? and oh mommy, i’m so sorry, so so sorry and the motherfucker was STILL calling/texting and telling me everything was great and, in fact, he had been working on the house and preparing it for when my family was going to visit in a few days…)

And I fell apart for lots of reasons but mostly because I didn’t know what to do because I had less than $200 to my name, which is not enough to buy a plane ticket to Cancun and especially not enough to stay in Mexico and not enough to replace anything stolen.  And then I realized that once I deposited a check I would have a little bit more — enough for a plane ticket one way — but still not enough to stay/replace anything.

(And if I go to Mexico now how will I get everything taken care of in Colorado and I can’t afford to make two trips and I haven’t spent any time with Austin and his birthday is coming up and all my shit is still in storage and I need to sell some stuff to survive until the job starts and I need to go to the doctor and get prescriptions and I can’t live in the house with no refrigerator and FUCK and I have so much to do in Colorado, how can I go to Mexico now?)

Anyway.

So I bought a one-way ticket to Cancun.

And my amazing friend Mary picked me up and let me stay with her and she came with me to kick him out of the house when no one else wanted to get involved because the dude may or may not be a drug dealer (or worse), etc. etc.

(The point is that I couldn’t find anyone willing to just go talk to the police with me (as I do not speak spanish) so I had to get him out of the house without the help of the police.  I was terrified and Mary was all “fuck it, I’ll back you up, let’s roll” (she’s, ummm, in her 60’s) and so we did.)

So we just walked right in and I was totally going to keep my cool and not escalate the situation (just in case he was psycho) and then he smiled and said “Kim!  What a nice surprise.  What are you doing here?” and tried to hug me.  And that is when things, ummm, escalated on my part.

GET. OUT. OF. MY. HOUSE.

(SCREAMING at the top of my lungs and shaking like a leaf)

“What are you talking about?”

GET THE FUCK OUT!  WHERE ARE THE REFRIGERATORS?  WHERE IS THE AIR CONDITIONER?  GET THE FUCK OUT NOW!

“No no no, just calm down and I tell you what happen.  Someone broke in and robbed the house.”

LIAR!

“Listen to me, can I talk to you right now?”

NO. GET OUT OF THE HOUSE.

“Can I call you later?  Can I come over later when you’re calm down?”

NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.

You get the picture…..

And then he left.

Of course there is more to the story. There always is. 

I’m leaving out the best parts that serve to illustrate WHAT A FUCKING IDIOT I AM to have trusted him in the first place (because they are super embarrassing and I’m ashamed and also because they will probably be the parts that make my book a fucking NYT best seller…)(but mostly because they are embarrassing and just go to show that I am in serious need of continuous therapy to deal with issues like:  Exactly how little do you value yourself if this kind of behavior is acceptable, Kim?”)(Although I could write a better book than 50 Shades of Grey with my eyes closed, so maybe I could turn my extreme shame into a bestseller and thereby finance my lifetime of therapy.)

I’ve filed a police report (thanks to the nice lady at the laundromat next door who speaks pretty good english and agreed to get involved and translate for me) and the nice detective (Sweet Jesus, there is a whole other chapter for the book — in a Hollywood story all of this bad shit would have happened to me to teach me a lesson and so that I could meet and fall in love with the handsome police officer assigned to my case — in real life, the officer/detective is kind of short (but cute…), barely speaks English, is probably married and thinks I am the most beautiful woman he’s ever met…. WHAT. THE. FUCK.???) tells me to be patient (aarrrgghh!) and that they have leads on where this guy is and that he will be arrested soon.

Anyway.

Lots of stuff to think about/write about.

I’m penniless in Puerto Morelos but I have amazing friends here (super special thanks to Mary and Linda for opening their homes to me and having my back!) and I am so lucky that people saw what was happening and got in touch with me.  I’ve learned a lot.  I’m not dead.  My house is standing.  All my mom’s beautiful artwork is intact and exactly where I left it.  It could have been much worse.

But still, it was pretty fucking bad.

I will feel better when the bad guy is behind bars.

(fun fact:  in Mexico you are GUILTY until proven innocent — they jail you first and ask questions later….yikes)

xoxoxo

kim

p.s.  it’s hotter than the sun here.  i’m not exaggerating.

p.p.s.  he took my yoga mat.  what kind of scary drug addict/dealer steals a pink yoga mat?

p.p.p.s.  i don’t blame people for not wanting to get involved/translate with the police, this is a small community and things can get weird when the police are involved and there were all sorts of rumors flying around about how big and bad and horrible the guy was and people were worried he would see them as “enemies” and come after them, i guess.

p.p.p.p.s.  the nice detective called me “voluptuous”  (he knows that word in english… suspicious, right?) so it’s good that i can’t really afford food right now.

Oh, Hello.

Oh. My. God.

It’s been a loooooong time since I’ve blogged.

And it turns out that the longer I don’t write on the blog, the harder it is to come back to writing on the blog because of the need for….

A REASONABLE EXPLANATION FOR THE EXTENDED PERIOD OF NOT-BLOGGING.

Here’s the thing:

I DON’T HAVE ONE.

There.

Now that THAT is out of the way, I shall just resume with the blogging as if the not-blogging-forever (or a month…) never happened.

Cool?

And I shall resume blogging by compiling everyone’s favorite thing:   A LIST!

What kind of list?

THE OFFICIAL LIST OF THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED SINCE I LAST BLOGGED:

1.  So, in my last blog entry (June 6) I was sad because it was the 6 month anniversary (is that the right word?) of my sweet mommy’s passing and then I realized that I was being bitchy about the upcoming non-memorial-service party for my mom because I didn’t really want the party to happen because that meant that my mom is officially gone, etc. etc.  So that SUCKED.

2.  And then I apologized to the people I was bitchy to and they were all “we understand” and “that makes sense” and “it’s gonna be ok, kimmy” and I was all “how the fuck do I get to be related to the coolest people on earth?  Seriously!”… So that was MUCH BETTER.

3.  And then I just went about my business of not leaving Mexico for a bit longer….

4.  And then YAY!  Miss Leighton Liv Tempel finally graced us with her presence on June 9!! (That’s her in the picture above) And I rejoiced.  She was 20” long and 7 lbs. 7 oz and totally healthy and  a GIRL!?!?  Almost everyone firmly believed that Leighton was gonna be a boy, including me.

5.  And then I still didn’t leave Mexico until the 23rd because, first, Leighton and her mom had to stay in the hospital for almost a week on account of how Leighton didn’t want to be delivered the regular way and, then, the person who was supposed to be renting part of my house for the next 5 months (and, importantly, watching over it while I was gone) up and moved out in the middle of the night the day before I was scheduled to leave and then I had to have a nervous breakdown and also scramble to get someone into the house for God’s sake, so all in all my return flight was changed twice ($150 down the draino).

6.  Also, (dear God, why do I have Compulsive Disclosure Disorder?  Obsessive Honesty Issues?) sometime in there I kind of met a nice man and had some fun so it didn’t totally suck to stay in Mexico a leetle bit longer….. 🙂  Enough about that.

7.  So I left Mexico, but see #11 below.

8.  And then I flew to California and met Leighton!!!!  I’m in love with that baby girl.  I love her mom and dad, obviously, but, you know, they are old news, now it’s all about LEIGHTON.  I spent a whole week in Santa Monica (which is gorgeous, FYI) and was very sad to leave.

9.  But I got to come home to Colorado and that is the best feeling ever even though it’s been super hot and dry and there are horrible wildfires all over the state.  I realized that no matter where I go and how long I stay away, Colorado will always feel like home to me.  That is a nice feeling.  Also, I get to stay with my Aunt Marilyn and Uncle Sherm, who I fucking adore and not just because staying at their house is like staying at the Ritz Carlton with room service and a waterfall and all that.  They make me feel like even though my mom and dad are both gone, I’m ok because they’ve totally got my back and that is what family is all about, right?

10.  I finally got to see my amazing son Austin on Wednesday.  I hadn’t seen him since January and that was officially the longest amount of time that I hadn’t laid eyes on him in his whole entire life.   I don’t like not seeing him.  I don’t like it one bit.  Anyway, he’s still awesome and he is my favorite person in the whole wide world and he’s only vaguely aware of not seeing me for almost six months and is distinctly uninterested in filling me in on what is going on in his life beyond “I’m good.”  So.  Yes.  He’s still a teenager.

11.  OH, also this week on HGTV there was a Househunters International episode on Puerto Morelos!  It was the first of three episodes (next is August 6th) and it’s extra exciting for me because the episodes involve my friend Amber at Mayan Riviera Properties and guess what else?  I’M GOING TO BE WORKING WITH MAYAN RIVIERA PROPERTIES BEGINNING NEXT FALL, Y’ALL.  Yep.  That also happened while I wasn’t blogging.  I’m so excited I can hardly stand it and you guys will probably hear way more about it than you’re even interested in because (a)  I GOT A JOB and (b) IT’S NOT A LAWYER JOB and (c)  IT’S IN MOTHERFUCKING PARADISE, PEOPLE!!

12.  I’m serious about the job…. you can check out the website at  www.mayanrivieraproperties.com!  I go back to Puerto Morelos in September and then start work in October!  Come visit!!!!

13.  So anyway, I’m back in Colorado and I’ve got a ton of stuff to do — not the least of which is getting ready for the big non-memorial-party for mom next Saturday, July 14th (her birthday).  My sassy Virgo sister and her brilliant daughter Madison arrive in Denver tomorrow and then we will head down to the family farm in Lamar, CO on Tuesday.  We do have to go through mom’s house there and decide what to do with everything (which will SUCK) but at least we get to do it together (which is AWESOME) and we get to spend time with all sorts of people who we hardly ever get to see.

14.  I know I’ve said this before, but THANK GOD for my sassy Virgo sister…. Seriously.  I would be totally fucked without her.

15.  Here’s a fun fact:  In Colorado they don’t tell you when they suspend your driver’s license because you were late paying a ticket, they just suspend it and wait for you to find out about that THREE YEARS LATER when you go in to renew your license and then you not only have to pay a $95 reinstatement fee, you get to take the written exam again (ummm, twice if you don’t pass it the first time….) and then you get to do the driving test and then you get to go all the way back to the driver’s license office to wait for two hours to get your actual license.  And that was how I spent the day today.

16.  And I think that’s it for now.

xoxo

kim

p.s.  in other big news – i finally got my hair cut and colored and i got rid of the silver stripe.  the stripe was fun for awhile but it’s kinda high maintenance and whenever i saw myself in pictures i was all “who is the old lady with the stripe?” and then “FUCK, it’s me.”  also i realized that pretty much all my hair is now the color  of the stripe (silver/white)  so i will have plenty of time having all silver/white hair in the not-so-distant-future.

p.p.s.  i’m still phat.  aunt marilyn is gonna whip me into shape, though…. stay tuned.

p.p.p.s.  i’m leighton’s favorite aunt, probably.

Hello, June 6th. (I’m sobby and stabby and shouldn’t be writing, FYI)

Well hello June 6th.

I’ve been dreading your arrival.

My mind has attached all sorts of meaning to you:

Six months since my sweet mommy died.  Six months of grieving.  Six months of limbo.  Time’s up.  Move on.

Here is what I have to say to my mind:

HA HA HA HA HA…… right.

I thought by now I would have come to terms with things.  I thought the worst would be over.  I thought I would have embraced my own life and pulled it all together.  I thought Mexico would have healed me.

Maybe it’s the PMS talking (ok, it’s more than likely the PMS)(or the Depression, which is an even bigger asshole than the PMS)(together they are a formidable duo of asshole-liar-overly-sensitive-ness) but the worst doesn’t seem to be over.  The worst seems to be right now.  And right now, nothing seems any better than it did six months ago when I kissed my sweet mommy for the last time and watched strangers take her body away and then tried to be the mommy to my own grieving son when all I really wanted was for someone to be the mommy to me.

Truth be told, I still just want someone to be the mommy to me sometimes.  Which is exactly how my mom felt when her mom died.  And then she got sick (way too soon, God) and voila!  I became the mommy to her.  As much as it sucked, I’m glad that she had someone to hold her when the fear and the pain were too much and to tell her everything was going to be ok, even when we both knew it wasn’t.  That is what mommies do.

I miss you mom.  Six months is like 3 minutes and 102 years all wrapped up into one thing.  I would give anything to lay my head on your shoulder and have you stroke my hair and tell me everything is going to be ok.

xoxo

kim

p.s.  If June 6th wanted to do something besides be an asshole-reminder-of-sadness it could give me a new niece/nephew today… JUST A SUGGESTION, JUNE 6TH.

p.p.s.  I’m sobby and stabby and I just want my mom, dammit.  But I guess you knew that….

p.p.p.s.  If you know someone who is being a caregiver, give them a hug and tell them everything is going to be ok.  🙂

Remember when Sue (the pretend-Buddha iguana) disappeared for a few days and then acted like nothing happened? Also: The end of May?

Remember when Sue, the pretend-Buddha iguana who lives on my wall, disappeared for a few days and then acted like nothing happened?

Well.

Something happened.

And I think I know what it was.

S-E-X.

(and I’m pretty sure it was casual, motherfucker)

Yep.  Sue was out fucking around and now my backyard looks like a miniature Jurassic Park.

There are little iguana babies all over the place, skittering around on the ground, scaring the shit out of me and then hiding under the vegetation.  Which is probably pretty smart, since the birds seem to have noticed that they are here and would like to make a meal out of them.

I’ve tried to photograph them, but they are fast and my dang iPhone camera (and/or it’s operator) is s-l-o-w.

Just trust me.  There are a lot.

And what is Sue doing about this new development?

Nada.

Just hanging on the wall, being all chill, ignoring me and his (her?) children.

Asshole.

I, for one, don’t think there’s anything “zen” about neglecting your children (or your friend Kim) Sue.  Where’s the loving kindness in that?

(I realize that I just confused Buddhism with Zen-stuff, but I’ve been drinking and I can’t sort it all out right now.)

I’m starting to doubt Sue’s buddha-nature.

I’m also starting to doubt my ability to write anything that doesn’t involve a (surprise!) LIST.

IT’S THURSDAY AND THE LAST DAY OF MAY AND I’M WRITING A LIST, DAMMIT:

1.  How the fuck is it the last day of May?  Didn’t we just finish February?  I don’t understand time.

2.  If it’s the last day of May, then it is practically the 6th of June, which will mark 6 whole months since my artistic genius mom (with great hair) passed away.  And here is where time gets weird again.  I still feel like it happened yesterday.  I feel like it happened a lifetime ago. I feel like it never happened.  I feel like I’m still dreading the fact that it will happen.  I’m sad.  Every part of me is sad.  My hair is sad.  My toenails are sad.  My bones are sad.

3.  And I’m a little happy.  Well.  EXTREMELYHappy/Sad.  My brother and his wife (who I love) are having a baby ANY DAY NOW!  Aren’t babies amazing?  I always say that I can’t imagine ever loving another human being as much as I love my son, but my feelings for my brilliant niece Madison Grace come pretty darn close and my uterus is practically contracting in love for this new baby.  I’m serious.  I LOVE this baby.  I can’t wait to meet him/her and touch its little toes and kiss its little head and whisper “welcome to the world, baby – we already love you so much!”  And I can’t wait for my brother to get to experience this kind of love.  Primal love.  It’s such a gift.  Sigh….

4.  I was living in Denver and my sister was living in Atlanta when Madison was born.  She didn’t want me to come visit her right away when she had Madison, but when I heard that she was in labor and having a hard time (or maybe I imagined that part, I just couldn’t stand the thought of her in pain and none of us there with her)(even though her husband is amazing and totally capable STILL, I’m the seester) I left Denver in the middle of the night and flew to Atlanta.  And then I promptly forgot everything I knew about babies.  Seriously.  I was absolutely NO help at all.  I would like to think that I helped a little bit and that my sister was glad that I was there, but really, I think that I was more trouble than help.  STILL.  It seems like a representative of each family should be there to welcome the baby into the world, right?

5.  And now I’m in Mexico and my brother is in Los Angeles and they have said that I’m welcome to come anytime but I’m afraid to go because of the Madison debacle.  And I really really really really want to go.  So.  We will see what happens.  My next blog post may be from L-fucking-A, y’all.

6.  Or it could be from here, because I can’t seem to leave.  I look at flights and then I don’t buy a ticket about twice a day.  I know I have to leave.

7.  I also need to start working on the Celebration of Life we are having on July 14 (Mom’s birthday) in Lamar, CO.  We had a party for her here in Puerto Morelos in February and lots of family members were able to attend, but many more family and friends will be able to attend the party in Colorado in July.  Which is why it feels like her “FUNERAL”.  Which, it turns out, is why I had a major breakdown yesterday when there were some rumblings within the family about how maybe we should, ummm, start planning for this huge party we are hosting.  I lost it.  Completely.  I wanted to plan it and I didn’t want to plan it.  I was resentful and bitchy and I couldn’t even figure out what I was feeling or why.  And then I realized that none of what I was feeling was even about who was going to be doing the planning.  I just don’t want it to be planned. At all.  Because I don’t want it to happen.  Because I don’t want her to be dead.  And maybe the fact that we haven’t had a “FUNERAL” has somehow allowed me to continue to be in denial about the fact that she is really gone.

8.  Maybe this limbo that I’m in is also contributing to my inability to make any kind of decision about my future.  I’m not done taking care of my sweet mommy so I don’t have to think about taking care of me.  And so the party in July isn’t just huge in terms of letting Mom go, it’s huge in terms of “now what?” for me.

9.  So.  My friend Steve says that the little creatures that I thought were baby iguanas are not baby iguanas.  He thinks they are geckos.  He is wrong.  They are totally not geckos.  But I have to admit that it’s possible that they aren’t iguanas, either.  But I refuse to rewrite the beginning of this post, mostly because I’m still kind of pissed at Sue for disappearing like that and I like to think of him as a philanderer.

10.  This post would have been done approximately 10 hours ago but Steve the pretend “iguana expert” dropped by to drop off something and then we ended up going grocery shopping, chatting, drinking wine, chatting, watching the world go by on the front porch, chatting, having another friend stop by, chatting……  and that is just part of the reason why I love it here.  People just stop by and then adventures happen and more people stop by.  It’s not great for productivity, but it is great for, you know, LIFE.

xoxo

kim

p.s.  since i couldn’t get a picture of the baby iguanas (or whatever), the picture is of their environment – the side yard of the casa.  isn’t it cute?

p.p.s.  i suck at drinking early in the day.  that is why this post is going up so late.  i had to take a nap after the drinking.

The girls are back. The topic is (shhhhhh) sex. The casual kind.

I’ve been working on this post for, like, EVER and I just can’t get it written.

Probably because it’s about me and (gasp!) sex.  The casual kind.  If there even is such a thing, which I am starting to doubt.

What does “casual sex” even mean?  Less formal sex?  Sex with strangers?  Sport fucking?  Recreational sex?  Is one of these terms an umbrella term for the others?  What are the subcategories? Who decides that the sex is going to be casual?  At what point can formerly casual sex become non-casual sex?  Or vice versa?

Can you see how being a lawyer makes everything more difficult?

Fuck.

Anyway.

It’s hard to write about this topic — I now live in a very small town and people are starting to read this blog (which is awesome and also EEK! vulnerable!) and every once in awhile my amazing son Austin takes a peek (can you say “awkward”?) — but if this blog is about my “JOURNEY” or whatever, then it would be pretty weird to, like, never speak about sex.  I’ve been single a looooooong time, people.  And I’m not dead.  Sex is an issue.

And casual sex is an issue because (a) I’m me, and my libido sometimes works faster than my brain and  (b) I suck at it, pretty much and (c) I always forget that I suck at it until after I’ve done it.

Here’s how it typically (but not always) plays out with the girls in my brain — you remember them, right — kimmy, Kim and Kimberly:

*******************************

kimmy:  “Woo-Hoo!  He’s cute/brilliant/funny/got a cute dog, let’s get naked!”

Kim:  “Oh fuck – please tell me we aren’t wearing those damn granny panties again tonight… Where’s the bathroom?”

Kimberly:  “Listen up SLUTS — are you fucking serious right now?  You want to get busy with this loser?  I can’t even see what he looks like on account of all the HUGE RED FLAGS surrounding him.  You know, the ones that say [insert red flaggy  things like “Probable Drug Addict” or “I’m 20 years older/younger than you” or  “Sure, I’m Single (tonight)” and/or  “Fuck Me, Everyone Else Has!” or  “I May Look 30/40/50 but I’m Really 13” or  “Hi, My Name Is Bob (my name isn’t Bob)” or “The Tin Foil Protects Me From Aliens!” or “I Only Talk About Me!” or “I Can’t Wait to Tell The Guys At the Bar About This!” or “You’re Buying, Baby!”]

kimmy:  “You’re hallucinating, Kimberly.  I don’t see anything except those beautiful blue/brown/green eyes and did you even see his lips?  Why are our clothes still on? Let’s go, girls!”

Kim:  “She’s got a point about his lips, Kimberly…. I can’t stop looking at them.  I think I’m hypnotized.”

Kimberly:  “Look away from his lips, Kim!  Jesus, this is getting out of hand.  Who the fuck ordered the margaritas?!”

kimmy:  “I love margaritas!  Are the granny panties gone yet?”

Kim:  “Oh shit, the lips are moving and they are saying sweet things.  Can’t.  Look.  Away.  I need to bite that bottom lip.  Come ON Kimberly, can’t you throw caution to the wind just this one little time?”

kimmy:  “Why are you even talking to her, Kim?  She never wants to have any fun.  I think she is frigid.  She fucking enjoyed the year-long Moratorium.  How is she even related to us?

Kim:  “She’s got a point, Kimberly.  You do seem frigid.”

Kimberly:  “One of us has to be frigid…. Listen, we don’t even know this joker — does he even have a name yet, sluts?  This is a VERY BAD IDEA.  No good can come from this.  We will have a teensy little bit of fun and then what?  NOTHING.  That’s what.”

kimmy:  “What if it’s a LOT of fun?  Why does anything else have to come of it?  Why can’t we just have fun?  Honestly I don’t even care what his name is.  What does it matter?  It’s not like we are looking for a “RELATIONSHIP”…. (she shudders)

Kim:  “Did you see his hands?  This could definitely be a LOT of fun.  (tearing her eyes away from him and turning to Kimberly) I kind of agree with kimmy — I mean, I do think we should probably get his name, but beyond that, what is the big deal?  We’re single, we will be careful (she starts rummaging through her purse for condoms) he’s probably not a serial killer — why not go for it?”

Kimberly:  “Nice.  He’s probably not a serial killer…. Then of course we should have sex with him.  I mean, if that is the criteria, why not?”

Kim:  “Now you’re just being a bitch…. FOUND THEM! (holds up the box of condoms, which she has because she is CAREFUL, not because she is a NYMPHO)…. Have you even noticed the kissing?  FIREWORKS!!!!  Oh shit, now he’s kissing our neck…. come ON Kimberly, let’s play!”

Kimberly:  “Yes.  I noticed the kissing. (heavy sigh) Jesus, how do we get into these situations?  He does have nice hands, BUT mark my words, sluts, it doesn’t matter that we’re not looking for a relationship, once this happens you guys will be all “oh, he’s so great, I wonder when he’s gonna call, I can’t wait to do it again, why hasn’t he called?” and then you guys are disappointed and then you regret everything.”

kimmy:  “Can you guys shut up already?  We’re busy, in case you haven’t noticed…..”

Kim:  “Wow.  Look at her go! (turning to Kimberly – who is pounding her head against the wall, while also trying to see what kimmy is up to)  I feel like pounding your head against the wall is not helping anyone and is overly dramatic.  It’s not the end of the world, Kimberly.  It’s just sex.  Let’s talk about it tomorrow (winks)”

Kimberly:  “Lovely….”

—————— 24 Hours Later ——————-

kimmy:  “Oh.  My.  God.  That was amazing.  What was his name again?”

Kim:  (dreamily) “Bob…. his name was Bob….. Not that it matters, since there were so many red flags around him and he’s obviously entirely WRONG for us and we will probably never see him again……… but remember when he said we’re [insert sweet/insincere thing:  “smart” or “pretty” or “hot” or “awesome” or “nice” or “interesting” or “funny” or “a lot of fun”] and remember how he asked for our phone number?  That was soooooooooooooo sweet.  Even though he will probably never call and that is FINE, because he is so obviously not someone we would ever be interested in.  Ever.”

Kimberly:  “Here we go.”

kimmy:  “OUCH! I can barely MOVE, girlfriends!  Bob was a maniac.

Kimberly:  “Nice.  Are you complaining or bragging,party girl?”

kimmy:  “Both!  I knew you had a sense of humor under there somewhere, Kimberly….Bobby-boy is very…. flexible…  he might have a speech impediment, though, and did you see those sex faces?  Too funny! ….”

Kim:  “I wonder if I wrote the phone number down right?  Sometimes my handwriting is not very legible.  I should’ve put it directly into his phone, that’s how all the kids are doing it these days.  Not that it matters, because I think it would just be weird if he called.  I mean, why call?  It’s not like we would go out with him again.  We have absolutely nothing in common with him.  He was a really good snuggler though, right?  I mean, not every guy can snuggle for hours like that.  That was nice.  Oh, and remember how he said our hair smelled so good he couldn’t get enough of it?  Sweet.”

kimmy:  “I would totally fuck Bob again.  Who cares if we have nothing in common, we’re totally not interested in a relationship, amirite?”

Kim:  “That seems a little callous, kimmy…. He is a person, not just a piece of meat.  Maybe we do have some things in common, you never know.  It’s not like we covered a lot of ground before, you know.”

Kimberly:  “What a surprise.  Now we’re interested in Bob.”

Kim:  “We are not interested, I’m just saying that he might not be as wrong for us as we originally thought….. were you not there for the snuggling, Kimberly?  That is powerful shit.  There was a connection there, I know it.  Not that it matters, probably.”

Kimberly:  “Um hmmmm.”

kimmy:  “Dude, why are we waiting for Bob to call us?  Let’s call him!  I could totally go for another roll in the hay.  Get while the gettin’s good, right?”

Kim:  “She’s right, Kimberly.  We should probably call him.  I don’t want him to think that we were just using him for sex.”

Kimberly:  “Remember when you justified sleeping with him because it was, and I quote “JUST SEX”?”

Kim:  “Still.  He doesn’t have to know that.  It might make him feel bad?”

kimmy:  “Are you on drugs?  He’s a MAN.  He would be thrilled to be used for sex.”

Kimberly:  (mumbling) “Happens every time.  Every.  Single.  Time.”

Kim:  “It does not happen every time, THIS IS DIFFERENT!  Remember no name in 2005?  It didn’t happen that time.”

kimmy:  “That was horrible sex and No Name turned out to be a stalker named Geronimo, of course it didn’t happen that time.”

Kim:  “Thanks, kimmy (rolling her eyes) …. Who’s side are you on?”

kimmy:  “Hey, I’m happy either way, I am just trying to keep you honest.”

Kimberly:  “How refreshing.”

kimmy:  “Zip it, Kimberly.  Nobody likes a know-it-all.”

——– phone rings ——–

Kim:  “IT’S BOB!!!!!!” (happy dancing)

kimmy:  “Woo-Hoo!  Round Two!” (rummaging through underwear drawer for cute, non-granny, panties”

Kimberly:  “Fuck My Life.” (looking for vodka)

***********************************************

So.  Yes.  Casual sex is almost never entirely casual.  At least for one of the chicks in my head…. 🙂

And it’s even LESS CASUAL if it happens more than once, regardless of the justifications set forth initially.

Is it different for men?  I think it must be.  And probably for some women.  Some super-smart, independent, completely secure, MAN-HATING, women.  Just kidding.  They probably aren’t completely secure.

Anyway.

It’s an issue.

And I don’t plan on figuring it all out right here in the blog.  At least not today.  But your (NON-JUDGY) input would be greatly appreciated!

xoxo

kim

p.s.  I love this:

p.p.s.  I’m sure some of you are married and are either (a) scandalized or (b) titillated by this post.  I’m sorry/you’re welcome. Just remember, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.  Being single can be fun.  It can also be lonely and confusing and complicated.  Sometimes marriage/relationships look like nirvana to me.  I miss being close to someone.

p.p.p.s.  You do remember that this is a blog and for entertainment purposes — some dramatic license has been taken.  Like, for example, there was no No Name.  In 2005.

p.p.p.s. Ohhhh, I feel the judginess coming my way……. YIKES!

Dear Mom, Remember when you were alive and I was bitchy and ungrateful? Sorry. Love, Kim

Dear Mom,

It’s Mother’s Day here.  Which totally sucks because you’re there.  And I’m not even sure where “there” is.  I hope you are well, Mommy.  I also hope that, wherever you are, they have lilacs and strawberry shortcake and Coca Cola and grapes and babies and convertibles and sugar cookie dough and an unlimited supply of flowy gauze clothing.  When I imagine you, you have all your amazing silver hair and you are tan and you are draped in Marguerite jewels and are wearing some gauzey white stuff.  And you are smiling.  Which makes me smile, and also cry.

I’ve done a TON of crying today.  Mostly about how much I miss you and how much I miss my little sweet pea, Austin.  But also because FUCKING WORDPRESS JUST DELETED THE POST I WORKED ON ALL DAMN DAY.  I know you hate it when I cuss on my blog, but it was a good post, Mom.  If you’re really an Angel or whatever, then you probably know how good it was, because you were watching/listening to me write it and sob uncontrollably.

Anyway.

I can’t rewrite the entire damn post now — it would take forever and I can’t really remember everything I wrote.  I’m really starting to worry about my memory.  Did anyone in our family have early onset dementia or Alzheimer’s?  File that under “Things I Wish I Had Asked You When You Were Alive”….  Along with “Where the fuck is the septic tank at this house?” and “Where are the replacement bulbs for those fancy lights in the kitchen?” and other important stuff.  You wouldn’t believe how often I find myself thinking “OMG I have to call Mom and tell her about this right now!” or “I will have to ask Mom about this…..”  Another memory issue, I guess.  I forget that you’re dead and I’m stuck here without you.  Or mostly without you, depending on whether you’re an angel or whatever.

So.

I miss you.  That is mainly what I want to say today.  I miss you.  I miss you.  I miss you.  I even kind of miss the things that used to drive me NUTS about you — like how you used to eat, like, half of a grape and then put the other half in plastic and then back in the refrigerator.  And how you would always just throw food in the garbage disposal and then not run it….  And how you used to constantly eat corn nuts or do something loud with your hands  — like empty the ice trays or drill a hole in some concrete — while we were trying to talk on the phone  and then you would be all “What?  I can’t hear you?” and I would be all “STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING MOM!” and you would finally stop and then be all “Oh.  Well that’s better, isn’t it!”

(You know what I don’t miss, Mom?  The way you used to put your bare feet all over my dashboard.  That was gross :))

I love this picture of us — partly because it was probably the last fun day that we had together and partly because that is how you always used to hold me when I needed to cry.  You would pull me close and put your arm around me and play with my hair and tell me that no matter what awful thing was happening, it was all going to be okay.  I remember that when I was little  I used to fall apart every time I came home from a long visit with Dad.  I don’t know if I was sad to be leaving Dad or happy/relieved to be home with you, probably both.  Anyway.  You never asked me to explain, you just held me like that until I was done.  And I remember the day that we were sitting on your kitchen floor surrounded by debris from some home improvement project you were working on and we were talking and I finally realized that my marriage was over.  I was so ashamed and so sad and so scared and you crawled over all the crap on the floor and held me and stroked my hair until I couldn’t cry anymore.  You told me that it was going to be okay and that you would be with me and that Austin would survive.  And you were right, Mom.  Eventually it was okay.  And because you were there for all of us, Austin was okay too.  Thank you, Mom.  I don’t know if I ever told you how much that meant to me or how much I appreciated all the times you took such good care of Austin when his Dad and I couldn’t.

I wish you were here to hold me like that now, Mom.  It’s hard to be here without you.

Anyway.

Remember when you were alive and I was sometimes bitchy and ungrateful?  You were probably thinking “Oh, she’s really going to regret this shit when I die, just watch!” and you know what?  You were right.  YOU WERE RIGHT, MOM.  There, I said it out loud.  I hate that I was ever bitchy to you, especially when you were sick.  I hate that I took so many things for granted, Mom.  I hate that I didn’t thank you for every single thing you did for me before you died.  I’m so, so sorry.  I know that you already know all this, I just wanted to say it out loud.  I’m sorry.  And I love you, mamacita.  And I miss you.  And Happy Mother’s Day.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

kimmy

p.s.  this is really just between me and my mom, so it feels a little weird sharing it, but WTF, i share everything else with you guys.

Another place, another train. RIP MCA. Also, another list!

I am so saddened by the news that Adam Yauch – MCA of the Beastie Boys passed away.

He was my age.

FUCK YOU, CANCER

I’m not going to pretend that I’m any kind of authority or super-fan of the Beastie Boys or Adam Yauch – I’m not.  But some of their music forms the soundtrack of my youth and I still listen to it today when I want to remind myself of what it felt like to be young and vibrant and so alive.  “She’s Crafty” and “No Sleep til Brooklyn” are probably my favorite BB tunes and both rank high on my “most played” iTunes list, with “Intergalactic” close behind.

Heavy sigh.

Anyway.

What else?

Oh, it’s Cinco de Mayo!  Seems like a good time for a list!

FIRST ANNUAL CINCO DE MAYO LIST WRITTEN IN MEXICO, WHERE THEY DON’T REALLY CELEBRATE CINCO DE MAYO EXCEPT IN GRINGO BARS:

1.  It’s Cinco de Mayo and I’m in Mexico.  Which would be way more cool if Cinco de Mayo wasn’t a holiday that the Mexicans make fun of other people for celebrating.  Still.  It’s a holiday in my book….

2.  It’s eleventy-seven million degrees fahrenheit here today.  And it’s not a dry heat.  So instead of beach blogging, I’m bed-blogging with 2 massive fans pointed directly at me.  This is totally drying out my eyes, but making my hair fly around like I’m a supermodel at a photo-shoot, so that is cool.

3.  I could turn on the air conditioner, but then everyone would think I am a total wuss.  Air conditioning is a sensitive issue here, you guys.  For one thing, it’s expensive.  The electric utility here has some bizarre rate system that no one can explain to me, but basically it seems that once you hit a certain point of usage, the cost per unit of usage goes really, really high for the rest of the month.  To get around this, many houses are built with 2 or more electric meters, so that no individual meter hits the dreaded usage level.  My house has 2 meters.  The problem is that (a) I don’t know which meter corresponds with which part of the house (and therefore don’t know which air conditioning units are on which meter) and (b) I have no way of knowing what the dreaded usage level is by looking at the meters.  So that is confusing.

4.  But the real issue is that people judge you on whether or not you can stand the heat.  The thinking seems to be that people who can’t stand the heat are obviously inferior to those that can and also that if you can’t stand the heat, you should probably go the fuck back to where you came from and leave the whole “living in Mexico” thing to the professionals (and the Mexicans).  This seems a little harsh to me– a person who hasn’t adjusted to heat + humidity YET.

5.  Oh – I’m alive!  (No thanks to Typhoid Fever.)  About 5 days into the 10 days of antibiotics I started to feel like I just might make it and now I’m feeling enirely human again.  Yay.

6.  Big changes here at Casa de Colores — I’ve moved myself out of the big suite area in the back of the house and I now have a RENTER….  Weird, right?  It’s kind of a great spot for a renter, though.  It’s pretty much a studio apartment back there with a brand new refrigerator and microwave and a separate entrance, etc.  It’s weird to have someone in the house – especially when I’m used to running around half-nekkid in the god awful heat and to playing my music extremely loud when I’m showering, cleaning, cooking and/or writing.  Which pretty much covers everything I do in this house.  So there’s that.  But it also means that I’m getting a little bit of income to offset the cost of living here.

7.  Which is good, because I’ve decided to live here!

8.  Well, you know, KIND OF.  I’m having a hard time making any kind of firm committment to anything these days, but I’m mostly sure that I’m going to try to live here, like, for real.  At least for most of the year.  I have to go back to Colorado to take care of my stuff, my Mom’s stuff, etc. for at least a few months this summer and then I hope to come back in September/October and to stay through until at least next summer.

9.  I’m still trying to figure out exactly how I’m going to support myself here, but (SPOILER ALERT) it might involve (shhhhh) practicing law again.

10.  OMG – the monsters in my head are having a massive rally against the aforementioned (shhhhh) practicing law again, so I can’t really discuss it now, but YES, I think it is going to happen.

11.  The supporting of myself will also have to include some other stuff because, at least right now, the (shhhh) practicing law again is very, very part-time.  I think the other stuff may involve WRITING for MONEY – just not the kind of writing for money that I dreamed I would be doing, i.e., the best-selling novel kind of writing for money.  Oh no, this kind of writing is more the internet content and/or freelance article writing kind of writing.  Not nearly as glamorous, but more likely to pay actual money sometime before the year 2020.

12.  This is kind of a major announcement (Announcement!).  I probably shouldn’t have buried it in a Cinco de Mayo list.  Whatever.

13.  Have I mentioned that I’m about to be an Aunt again?!!!!  My brother and his wife are expecting their first child in early June!  I’m so excited and I’m also a little bit sad that our artistic genius Mom (with great hair) won’t be here to enjoy this new baby and his/her little tiny twinkle-toe feet.

14.  There’s more, but I can’t tell you about it right now.  Ha!

xoxoxo

kim

p.s.  sometimes i just feel like i’m writing you guys letters instead of “blogging” — is that wrong?  there’s also a lot of pressure (ok, it’s internal pressure, but still…) to be either (a) somewhat profound or (b) funny when i write and sometimes i can’t come up with either of those things.

p.p.s.  a baby!!!!

And now I have Typhoid Fever, practically.

And by “practically”, I mean that I don’t technically have Typhoid Fever, but for a day or two I was pretty sure I had Typhoid Fever and my symptoms are remarkably similar to Typhoid Fever (according to the world wide interweb) so really whether I technically have Typhoid Fever or not is not the point.  I practically have it.

Technically I have a kidney infection.

A really horribly bad kidney infection!  With fevers and chills and fatigue (oh my!) and muscle/joint pain and sick tummy.

I’ve had it for, ummmm, almost three weeks.  But I just went to the Doctor on Friday, naturally.

Why the delay in seeking medical attention?

On account of how I’m not that smart is the answer to that good question.

Let’s see.

Instead of going to the Doctor I spent weeks trying to figure out what was wrong with me by doing two things that are almost never helpful (a) talking (read: complaining) to friends about it and (b) researching medical stuff on the internet.

Here are the medical conditions that I tentatively diagnosed myself with over the past two weeks:

• Cancer, obviously.
• Fibromyalgia — the muscle/joint pain was truly horrific and I still might have this….
• MS — because I’m from Colorado and everyone gets MS in Colorado plus I have some symptoms.
• Chronic Fatigue Syndrome — I was really really tired.
• Flu
• Strep throat — I had a sore throat the first week into this.
• Menopause — well, pre-menopause — I thought I had that menopause fog + extreme fatigue + I thought I was having hot flashes when it was just a deadly high fever…..  I’m not kidding.
• Rheumatoid Arthritis — have I mentioned how much my muscles and joints hurt?  A lot.
• Dengue Fever — actually a friend suggested that I might have this and, of course, after reading about it I was convinced that I totally had it.
• Malaria — I have none of the symptoms, but it seemed possible since I live in a tropical place.
• Drug Addiction — because I might have taken a few pain pills that were not prescribed to me.  I was taking them for menstrual cramps.  Which is like amputating your arm because of a scratch – overkill.  Anyway, then I stopped taking them and the horrible muscle/joint pain set in and I was all – Fuck!  Withdrawal symptoms!  Now I know exactly what heroin addicts must feel like when they try to stop!  Which, in hindsight is hilarious and sad.
• Brain tumor — on account of the incredibly awful and unrelenting headache that lasted for fucking ever.  In fact, it’s back again today after a brief respite.  So the potential brain tumor is still on the table.
• Depression — Ahhhh, my old friend Depression.  Here’s how I feel when I’m really depressed:  headachey + no energy + body aches and pains + foggy thinking.  And here’s how I’ve felt the past few weeks:  headachey + no energy + excruciating body pain + foggy thinking.  Oh and a HUGE FEVER – which should’ve tipped me off that I wasn’t just reaching a new low in my experience of Depression and it probably would have, if it had occurred to me that I was having a high fever, instead of occurring to me that I was having menopause-related hot flashes.  Also, I’m not even menopausal.
• Lyme disease — turns out they don’t really have that in my part of Mexico.  STILL – the body pain?
• Meningitis — the headache was really fucking bad.  And my neck hurt.  And I had a fever.
• The Plague — don’t laugh.  You can still totally get it.  Just probably not here.

Anyway.

A friend finally got tired of listening to me moan and groan and insisted that I go see a Doctor fortheloveofGod.

And while I was at the Doctor’s office I remembered this little tidbit of (it turns out) crucially important information:  about 3 weeks ago I thought I had a bladder infection, so I took some antibiotics that my Aunt had given me (I know) for three days, after which I concluded that everything was fine…..

The smart Doctor (who appears to be 12, but tells me his son is celebrating his 15th birthday soon) suggests that we do some blood tests and a urinalysis.  And I say “what are you testing for?”  And he says “Dengue Fever, Typhoid Fever [and some other stuff]….”  And I’m all “What?  Typhoid?”  And he was all “Yes, your symptoms are consistent with Typhoid.”  So I went home and researched Typhoid Fever and became 1000000% convinced that I had it.

And I might have made a big deal about it and told my sister about it and made it sound all dramatic.  Not that I had to do much to make it sound dramatic, I mean, you don’t hear “I have Typhoid Fever” a lot.  And then I told some other people who I hoped would feel sorry for me and maybe feel bad that I had been suffering while they were just going about their lives and not calling or writing me.  And that kind of worked on everyone except my fucking sassy, Virgo sister who was all “shut up, you’re not dying right now….”  Which is what I love about her.  And also what pisses me off about her — sometimes I just want a little bit of loving attention.  Is that so wrong?

Imagine my surprise, then, when I went back to get the results of the lab tests and the smart Doctor says that I don’t, in fact, have an exotic tropical disease, but I do have a bad infection and it is most likely in my kidneys.  And also that it is the result of the bladder infection that I didn’t treat properly.  Oopsie.

Color me embarrassed.

And color my sassy, Virgo sister amused.

I started the antibiotics last night.  I can’t say that I feel amazingly better today, but things are looking up.

I haven’t been out of the house yet today, but by God I just wrote a blog post, didn’t I?  🙂

xoxo

kim

p.s.  i don’t really have a p.s., but it’s tradition, so……

Thirteen things on Friday the 13th. Yes, another fucking list.

Look.

I think I’m doing pretty good to have already published one list-less post this week, under the circumstances.  And the circumstances are that I CAN’T FUCKING WRITE.

So here’s another fucking list:

1.  I realize “fucking list” is ambiguous.

2.  I re-wrote my “ABOUT” page today.  That was hard.  I hadn’t revised it since the very first day of my blog – you know, back when I had a job, my artistic genius mom (with great hair!) was alive and my son still sometimes lived at home.  Heavy sigh.  So many changes!  Big ones!

3.  I went scuba diving on Tuesday for the first time this year.  It was my friend Linda’s first dive ever.  She’s in her 60’s!  She did so well and I am so amazed at her passion for life.  I hope I’m still trying new things when I’m in my 60’s.  I also hope I look as good in a swimsuit as she does.  Holy shit.

4.  Diving helps me put things into perspective.  I can’t really put it into words right now, it just does.  The ocean is vast, I’m small.

5.  Then I got a really bad sore throat/head cold and laid in bed for two days.  Being sick is no fun.  I wanted my mommy.  Which is weird because my mom was not the kind of mom who took really good care of you when you got sick.  She would be like “here’s some Coke and some grapes, call me if you need anything” and then she wouldn’t answer her phone.  STILL.  At least I used to get to tell her I was sick and she would at least feign sympathy.  I miss that.

6.  On the other hand I got to watch a bunch of Six Feet Under episodes.

7.  WHY DIDN’T I KNOW ABOUT SIX FEET UNDER WHEN IT WAS ON TV?  What else have I missed?!?

8.  I have cable (“Cablemas”) here in Mexico, but I don’t have many U.S. channels and I can’t figure out how to increase the volume on my TV so I never watch it.  Note to self:  Cancel Cablemas!  I rely on iTunes for my television/movie viewing.  Which is great and also very expensive after awhile.  I need to figure something else out.  If I stay here I will look into getting some kind of satellite service.  That’s what all the Canadians seem to be doing.

9.  Have I mentioned that there are lots of Canadians here?  There are.  And now I kind of wish I was Canadian.  It has a certain cachet.  Exotic, but not too exotic.

10.  And I read the book “Happy Baby” by Stephen Elliott. (No, that’s not an affiliate link, I don’t know how to do affiliate links)  I loved the book, but it’s definitely not for everyone.  It’s disturbing.  While it’s not the entire thrust of the story (or maybe it is) the main character spends way too much time being bounced around the juvenile justice system — foster care, group homes, locked facilities and horrible bad shit happens and his guardian ad litems (3 or 4 of them) sucked.  Which triggers all my shit about being a guardian ad litem and feeling like nothing I did could help and that the entire system sucks.  The author was in the delinquency system from age 13-18, so I’m guessing much of what he’s writing about is based on his real life experiences.  Anyway.  If you dont mind graphic violence, drug use, BDSM and straight up sexual abuse, check it out.  Let me know what you think.

11.  I haven’t been in the sun since Tuesday and my tan sucks.

12.  I’m wondering if 2012 is going to be the year that I finally get my shit together.  Whatever that means.  It’s already mid-April.  Or, it’s only mid-April.

13.  Wouldn’t it be funny if I finally did get everything together and then the world really did end on December 21, 2012?  No.  No it wouldn’t.

xoxo,

kim

p.s.  it just occurred to me that perhaps i should use the whole 2012/end of the world thing as motivation to write.  i mean, i want to write a book before i die, right?  who am i kidding?  even that won’t work.

p.s.s.  note: i haven’t been locked up inside my house for two days.  i had to go out to get popsicles.  twice.  🙂