Tag Archives: grief

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.


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”….


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.)


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


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?)


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.


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

“What are you talking about?”


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


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


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


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.


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)



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.



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….


Here’s the thing:



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.


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

What kind of list?


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.



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.


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.



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.  🙂


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

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?


Something happened.

And I think I know what it was.


(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?


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


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.


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.



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.


Filed under Cancer sucks., The Caregiver with the Dragon Tattoo, Uncategorized, Writing and Not-Writing

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.


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.


What else?

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


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!



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!!!!


Filed under Cancer sucks., Writing and Not-Writing

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


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.


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.



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.  🙂


Filed under My Big Book of Me, Writing and Not-Writing

Post-Moratorium-Kim is a lot like Pre-Moratorium-Kim, it turns out.

I wish I hadn’t written that last post on the Thursday of Mysteries.

I suppose I could just delete it and pretend like it never happened, but that seems disingenuous.  Plus some nice people commented on it, so just making it disappear seems rude.



It’s been bothering me.  A lot.  Especially the part about how it seems like I hate men.  Or penises.  Or both.

The truth is that I don’t hate men or their related equipment.  At all.

I think what I hate right now is me.

(That’s a tough one to say out loud…)

I hate how I came up with this “Moratorium” idea, then substantially complied with it (lawyer words for “I didn’t even do what I agreed to do, but I mostly did it and I think I get credit for that.”) and then it was over and – voila!I’m still the same as pre-Moratorium-Kim, except with another year of sad shit to come to terms with.

Pre-Moratorium-Kim had good intentions for the year of not using love/the search for love to avoid other important shit.  That Kim thought that she would focus on loving herself and loving her life and she would deal with all sorts of nagging issues that she had been avoiding for so long and then she would emerge at the end of the Moratorium as someone much better equipped to find/be in a relationship.  With a man, who has a penis, which she doesn’t and never has, hated.


Silly Pre-Moratorium-Kim….

In her defense, Pre-Moratorium-Kim had no clue about what those 12 months of Moratorium were going to bring.  She had no idea that her artistic genius Mom (with great hair) would have the sneaky kind of ovarian cancer that goes to the brain and then fucks things up from there.  She didn’t know about the brain surgery, the paralysis, the Gamma Knife surgery… She didn’t know that she was going to become a for real full-time caregiver.  She didn’t know that the time she had imagined spending doing meaningful things to figure out her own shit was going to be spent trying to make life bearable for her sweet mommy and/or spent lost in angst over how much she resented the burden of trying to make life bearable for her sweet mommy and then more angst about the awful shameful resentment.  She didn’t know how her son’s graduation from High School was going to pull the last remnants of the rug that had been her life out from under her.  That it would leave her reeling and unmoored and so, so sad about things she can never change.  She didn’t know about the packing up the house and putting life in storage.  She didn’t know about the homecoming in Mexico, the fall, the broken hip, the midnight flight back to the USA.  She didn’t know about the hip surgery, the horrible rehab center, the night her sweet mommy would ask her if she was dying and she would reply “no” because she was unable to comprehend that “yes” might be the answer.  She didn’t know how it would feel when the not-knowing-something turns into knowing-something and that something is that your sweet mommy is dying in front of your eyes.  Pre-Moratorium-Kim had no idea that instead of spending time figuring her own shit out, she would be getting up in the middle of the night to slip into/onto her mom’s hospital bed and crying on her mostly unconscious mom’s shoulder begging her to stay and telling her it was ok to go.  She didn’t know her Mom was really going to go.

I feel a little bit sad for Pre-Moratorium-Kim, she had such high hopes, such good intentions and then look at all that happened instead.

And now I hate myself a little less for being in pretty much exactly the same situation as Pre-Moratorium-Kim.  We didn’t really have a chance, did we?  It was months upon months of reacting to what was happening with Mom.  Maybe I should give myself a break for not fixing my own life last year.  I just hope that all the not-fixing-my-life made my Mom’s last year a little less awful.



p.s.  it’s so weird how i start out writing one thing and end up somewhere completely different.  i don’t know if this post makes sense to anyone but me, but i guess that is ok.  i feel a smidge better than i did when i started writing.

p.p.s.  i do really hate that Thursday of Mysteries post.

p.p.p.s.  i had Easter dinner at cantina habanero’s here in pto. morelos.  cheeseburger and fries.  very strange.  i am really missing my family right now.  on the other hand, i went scuba diving for the first time in 3 years yesterday!  it was amazing.  i love being underwater. (and being able to breathe while underwater)


Filed under Cancer sucks., grief, The Caregiver with the Dragon Tattoo, Writing and Not-Writing