One thing leads to another and the next thing you know you haven’t posted on your blog for 5 months and then it’s National Margarita Day and you read something heartbreaking and raw and then you decide to write something yourself.

Margarita step threeOh hellooooooooo.

Hello blog.  Hello blog people.  Hello world.  Hello to the part of me who has always been a writer but who doesn’t always get to write.  Today is your lucky day, sweet pea.  We are writing.

Why now?

Honestly, it has a lot to do with this http://therumpus.net/2013/02/it-doesnt-mean-very-much-at-all/ — not the feminist part, but the part about how she writes and I flinch and my brain tries to cover my eyes but I can’t stop reading because it’s so so so so goood.

And also because it’s about feminism and sexuality and how women are supposed to hide their sexuality, apologize for it, repent, speak in hushed tones, play a game.  What would it be like if we were allowed to revel in it like the boys?

Anyway.

I mean, I have all these thoughts about it (sexuality, specifically mine), but I can’t even write them down and say them out loud because (eek!) I’m a woman! and (gasp!) I have a son! and (the horror!) I live in a small town! and (egads!) what would people think?!

So.

Mostly I just love how that woman writes and she inspired me.  I didn’t really plan on exploring sexuality or feminism or anything.

Actually.

On the other hand, I do have some, ummm, situations that I want need to explore in writing, but can’t/won’t/ok might because of the aforementioned fucked-upness about women and sex (but probably mostly because of the small town)(which I should probably get over, right?)(or move…)

So don’t try to make me.

Other than to say that my entire life might be a cliche right now.

In other news – hello!

I’m still in Mexico, y’all…!

And, in keeping with tradition, here’s a list of shit I’m doing/have done/am thinking about, etc.:

  1. It’s National Margarita Day (in the U.S., but we’re celebrating it here too)(I haven’t started drinking yet, FYI…)(I don’t love tequila, but I do love lime and all things lime-related, so, I guess I’ll have a margarita today…)
  2. Did I tell you guys about how I went back to Colorado for Thanksgiving and my one week trip turned into almost 5 weeks because I was also applying for my visa that allows me to work in Mexico and Mexico just changed their entire Immigration system but forgot to tell their employees how to do it and I just happened to be one of the first people to apply under the new system and no one in Mexico or  Colorado knew what to do?  Limbo.  It sucked.  But was also awesome because Colorado and amazing son and family and friends.
  3. It was weird though because Colorado was warm.  I only saw like 10 snowflakes one morning out of the entire 5 weeks.  I love it here,  but I long for a quiet snow morning with hot tea and snowflake contemplation and warmies.
  4. Anyway.
  5. Then I came back and my first renter arrived (from Norway!) and she turned out to be batshit, certifiably, fresh out of a mental institution and obsessed with the end of the Mayan calendar crazy….  For. Fucking. Real.  She had a lot of names, but one of my favorites was Mooki.  Luckily I’ve had some experience dealing with people who are actually nuts, but Mooki was kinda scary.
  6. And now I play “Words with Friends” (a/k/a Scrabble…) on FB with Mooki’s ex-husband…. ? (Who appears to be terribly good looking but also “in a relationship”… just my luck.)(He’s also pretty good at Scrabble…)(Which makes him even more attractive….. HEAVY FUCKING SIGH.)
  7. I like smart men.
  8. Ha. Oh God.  I can just imagine what you’re thinking.
  9. So.  What else.  My son is IN LOVE for, I think, the first time and it’s very cute.  I’ve stalked the girl on FB (naturally….) and she seems cool/smart/pretty.  He’s funny.  He says she’s stubborn and dramatic.  I tell him that she is perfect for him because he has so much experience with me as his mommy.  He laughs and agrees.  God help me I adore that kid.
  10. It’s hard because she’s probably going to break his heart.  It’s nothing personal!  I just mean,  statistically speaking, she’s probably not going to be “The One”, so I probably should just skip the getting to know and like her part because of the whole “bitch broke my sweet pea’s heart” part, right?
  11. Is being a mother ever going to be less fraught with emotion?
  12. Is that even a proper sentence?
  13.  I LOVE MY JOB.  Remember how much I hated practicing law?  That’s how much I love this job.  I’m making ZERO money so far, but the people I work with are amazing and the clients are interesting/annoying/hilarious.
  14. Ohhhhh, wanna see the Studio apartment at my house?  It’s very cool and people who have visited seem to love it!  I have it listed on FlipKey and Airbnb – here’s a link:   https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/686258?preview=true
  15. Come visit!
  16. My sister and niece came to visit and it was awesome and they left with a DOG that they adopted from foster care here in PoMo… I’m not kidding.  It was a fun visit, but way too short and also, the dog thing??  It took up a LOT of our limited time.  Still.  Everyone is happy now.
  17. My 30th (THIRTIETH) High School Reunion is coming up.  WTF????  Don’t know if I can go yet.  Must diet.
  18. I listen to KBCO out of Boulder, CO every morning via the miracle of the internet — I love it because I love the music and I love hearing the weather report and the traffic report and going “HA HA!” and sometimes they make my whole day by playing one song.  Today it was this one:

How did I get here? Once in a lifetime… 🙂

xoxoxoxo

kim

p.s.  are you happy now irene?

p.s.s.  yes, natalie, i know there is no such thing as a “p.s.s.” but i like it, so i’m gonna use it.  get your rules off my writing!!  xoxoxo

p.s.s.s.  i’m a little giddy because I WROTE SOMETHING!  FINALLY! it’s been awhile and this isn’t even a real post, but still…

p.s.s.s.s.  you were nervous when it looked like i was gonna talk about sex and stuff, weren’t you?  admit it.

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Filed under My Big Book of Me, Oh Mexico..., Uncategorized, Writing and Not-Writing

Dear Mexico, I love you. Also, I’ve been cheating on you.

So, I know I haven’t written in, like, FOREVER.

And I really don’t have much to say now, except that I’ve had a monstrous case of writer’s block (i can’t write, it’s too hot, my keyboard isn’t working right, why did i ever think i could write, fucking Republicans, i used to be funny and now i’m not, i’m too old to write, i’m too young to write, i’m fat, i should be at the beach, i haven’t been reading and if i’m not reading, stephen king says i shouldn’t be writing…) and my keyboard has been acting up, seriously.

BUT.

As we’ve established, I suffer from Compulsive Disclosure Disorder/Obsessive Honesty/Can’t Keep Mouth Shut Disease.  It’s a burden, y’all. And it is forcing me to write today.

Here is what I need to say out loud:

I have been cheating on my beloved Mexico. With Pace Picante Sauce. And I’m never, ever going to stop.  I know it’s practically sacrilegious to live in Mexico and admit to liking, much less LOVING, Pace Picante Sauce, but I cannot deny my love any longer….

There.

It’s done.

I don’t have a car here in Mexico and I don’t have a lot of money (thanks pendejo who stole my car and other stuff) but I have located one (1) store in Cancun that carries Pace Picante Sauce at a ridiculously high price (actually it’s not that high, I’m just trying to add drama to my story) (and the store is Chedraui at Las Americas Mall) and I can guaran-damn-tee you that I will get myself to that store and stock up on that shit on a regular basis.  Even if I have to ride the scary bus.  Alone.

Also, Mexico shouldn’t be too upset with me, because even though I do totally love Pace Picante Sauce, I’ve had to switch from the Mild mix — which I used to think was almost too hot for me but now tastes too sweet for me — to the Medium mix.  Bravo Mexico!  My taste buds are toughening up!

And another thing Mexico should be happy about is that having Pace Picante Sauce in the house is actually encouraging me to cook more.  Yes.  ME.  COOK.  Why?  Because now I’m all “hmmmm, I’m out of chips… how am I going to get that Pace Picante Sauce into my mouth without eating it directly out of the jar like some kind of heathen?  I know, I’ll cook [INSERT FOOD ITEM MADE MORE YUMMY BY ADDING PACE].”

Win/win.

🙂

xoxo

kim

p.s.  The scary bus to Cancun is not scary at all, according to everyone who has ridden it.  It’s just scary to me because I’m a scaredy-cat about public transportation in general (I have no idea why) and new experiences that subject me to feeling lost in a hostile world…… and that, my friends, is a personal issue because Cancun is annoying and crowded, but not hostile.  Probably.

p.p.s.  OMG I STARTED MY NEW JOB AND I FREAKIN’ LOVE IT!  So I guess I could write about that.  And I probably will, just not today.  www.MayanRivieraProperties.com

p.p.p.s.  I am a little stressed because I have to write an introduction of myself for the Mayan Riviera Properties blog and I don’t know what to say and I can’t use the “f” word, supposedly.

p.p.p.p.s.  So, I haven’t been reading or writing, but I have been obsessively watching LOST.  I didn’t watch it when it first aired but I am loving it now.  Mostly because I’m all “WTF?” after nearly every episode.  I’m at the end of Season 6 now.  Yes, I have a problem.

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Filed under Oh Mexico..., Writing and Not-Writing

Yes, this is a new blog theme. And yes, I’m a little cranky. Surprise.

(Note:  This post has nothing to do with Frida Kahlo (as far as I can tell…) but she looks cranky (I think it’s the eyebrows?) and I’m cranky, so the picture resonated with me and voila! here it is, on my blog, without permission from anyone.  I’m sorry.)

I’m not even sure why I’m writing this except that I just spent HOURS trying to find a new blog theme that worked better than the old blog theme and I finally found one I kind-of-sort-of like and I installed it and I feel like I should write a post acknowledging that yes, the blog looks different.

So.

Yes, the blog looks different.  I kinda like it.  I wanted to make it easier to navigate and easier to see the comments and also to leave comments.  Let me know your thoughts, por favor.

In other news:

UGH

There is no other news.

I’m a wee bit cranky, y’all.

For one thing, I think my body and brain are very confused about the fact that we don’t live where there are seasons anymore.  Colorado = 4 seasons.  Mexico (as far as I can tell) = 1 season + some rain sometimes… Last year was the first year I pretty much totally missed winter (except for a few weeks) and now I’ve also missed Spring and am missing Fall.

I hate missing Fall in Colorado.

The days are warm and the nights are cool.  There is excitement in the air.  The quality of the sunlight is different from any other time of year.  It’s completion, harvest, preparing for winter-time.  Fall has always been my favorite time of year.

So I’ve been a bit down about THAT and also just in general.  I mentioned to a friend that I was down and that I was not sure why and she was all “ummm, you’ve had a few losses recently…?”

Oh yes, loss.  Now my mood makes a little more sense.

In the “totally obvious” category is the loss of my artistic genius mommy (who had great hair!)(and who I miss every single damn day, damn damn damn damn) and then there are the other losses — my home, my career (yes, I hated it most of the time, but still, a career of 20 years is over and that is hard in it’s own way), my son (not dead THANK GOD but away at school and, because of the douchebag who stole all my shit, I got to spend virtually NO time with him before I had to come back to Mexico), my home was violated by a person who masqueraded as a friend, double-whammy, and then another friendship that meant a lot to me seems to be over for reasons unknown to me.

LOSS.

It hurts.

And I hate the conversations that go on in my head about this shit:

*****

Me:  “Mom died and I’m so sad.”

Asshole in my head:  “Everyone dies.  You knew she was sick, you had plenty of time to prepare for her death. She’s in a better place. Move on.”

******

Me:  “I miss my baby boy!  It’s like an ache that never goes away and I just want to see him.”

Asshole in my head:  “He’s 20.  He’s in college.  He’s fine.  Why are you living in Mexico if you’re dying to see him?  Kids grow up.  Get over it.”

******

Me:  “I can’t believe that pendejo pretended to be my friend and then systematically stole all my stuff and tried to rent my house to other people and still lied when I conronted him!  That hurts!  I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.  I feel violated.”

Asshole in my head:  “It’s your own fault, you idiot.  You should never have trusted the pendejo.  Everyone else knew he was a bad seed.  You deserve what you got.”

*****

Me:  “I miss my friend.  I’m sad.”

Asshole in my head:  “You have other friends.  If she were really your friend, she would tell you what is wrong.  You don’t need this drama. Move on.”

*****

You get the picture….

 

Here’s what I want to say to the asshole in my head (and anyone else who thinks like he/she does):

“What you say may be true, and it still hurts. It’s not the end of the world, my life isn’t over, I’m not spending every day lying in bed just waiting to fucking DIE, but it still hurts. So here’s what we’re going to do, you are going to shut up and I’m going to acknowledge the pain, wrap my arms around myself and tell myself everything will be ok, it’s just a little pain, and then I’m going to go the fuck on with my life and try to keep remembering that you are just an asshole voice in my head who clearly wasn’t loved enough as a child.”

🙂

And yes, I realize that I’m talking to no one but myself.

Is that weird?

xoxo

kim

p.s.  so, the pendejo is still “at large” but i finally received the electric bill that he racked up while living here (electricity is very expensive here) — $500 — so that sucks, but i’m glad to get it because once i pay that bill (ouch) the last of HIS damage will be accounted for and over.  expensive lesson.

p.p.s.  i haven’t been to the beach in AGES which makes no sense since that is why i wanted to live here.  i’ve got lots of reasons but none really make much sense.  not sure what is going on there….

p.p.p.s.  partially i haven’t been getting out much because it’s HOTTER THAN FUCK here.  but if i went to the beach it would be breezy and cooler, so that is dumb.

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Filed under grief, My Big Book of Me, Oh Mexico..., Writing and Not-Writing

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…..

 

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Filed under Oh Mexico..., The Caregiver with the Dragon Tattoo, Writing and Not-Writing

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.

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Filed under My Big Book of Me, Oh Mexico..., Uncategorized

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.

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Filed under grief, Uncategorized, Writing and Not-Writing

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.  🙂

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Filed under grief, The Caregiver with the Dragon Tattoo, Uncategorized, Writing and Not-Writing