Category: dating

acupuncture, anxiety, dating, pregnancy loss, privacy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, writing

karma

thesolomamaproject

Last Saturday, the day after my return from Brazil, I went on a 10-mile run through Golden Gate Park with my housekeys, a $20, and my driver’s license in my little shorts pocket. When I was within half a mile from my house, I was suddenly ravenous enough to eat my arm, so I opted instead to duck into Falletti Foods, an outrageously expensive grocery with a buffet of hot food. In my delirious hunger, I grabbed a crazy mix of foods and the cashier totaled it at $14 and change. I handed him my slightly moist $20. He gave me back a $10, a $5, and some change. I blinked and walked away.

As I sat there eating my chicken & artichoke lasagna and french fries, here was the voice in my head, “This place charges an insane amount for its food. They won’t miss $10. I could give it to a homeless person. Redirect the corporate surplus. I should stop being so honest all the time. I could donate it to the Obama campaign. I could keep it. I’m sure it didn’t cost them more than $5 something to make the food I’m eating. But……..won’t I spend the rest of the day stressing about it? What if the cashier gets in trouble? What if it comes out of his check?”

And, with that, I finished up and returned the $10 to the embarrassed and grateful cashier.

This morning, I was running through my neighborhood and saw a BART ticket on the ground. I thought, “I should stop and see if there’s any money on it,” but decided to leave it and see if it was still there on my way back. Half an hour later, there it was. I picked it up. $13.05. The universe gave me interest!

I’m sitting in a café with a tall Pellegrino. It’s 7:22pm. I have a date here at 8, or “8-ish,” as I believe he said, which bugged me. I can write until he gets here which I will bet you will be in one hour. On a scale of 1-10, with 10 being out of my mind excited to meet him, I am a 3.

Sigh. It’s been a wild week. Coming back from the forced respite from this project was a little tough, re-facing the reality of it. But, as my acupuncturist told me a couple of hours ago, why not just continue the vacation until my cycle kicks back in? I can’t really do or plan anything until then anyway. I like that. I’m still on vacation from this.

Coming back, I feel stronger. An unexpected result of this that I am in close touch with my anger. I don’t typically have a temper but lately I am on a hair trigger. Don’t cross a line with me right now, because I’m not putting up with bullshit. I should have done this a long time ago. Toxic people: out. Reactive, ill-considered e-mail, send. Insensitive post: unfriend. Surround me with love and support and otherwise I do not have time for you right now.

I had a shock this week when I met up with a friend who left my company a few months ago. Halfway through lunch, she says, “SO, I hear you’re pregnant!” I was stunned. I’ve been so careful about not sharing this with work friends, only the tiniest handful. I said, “Oh really, who told you that?” And she chirped, “Everyone!”

Well, first of all, I’m not. (Of course, she was mortified.) And second of all, it’s not public knowledge. I feel betrayed by whoever leaked this super-private news that I shared in confidence. I don’t really blame this friend, or the others who heard through the apparent grapevine. They thought it was public. But the floor absolutely dropped out from underneath me.

It dawns on me now (yes, now, 4 months after starting a public blog) that people talk. It’s human nature–this is juicy news to share. People love to be the one who knows first. Rationalization: I’m sure it’s safe to tell, I mean, after all, she writes it all down on a public blog!

It also dawns on me that I have no idea who reads this blog. I know who subscribes to it, but there are anywhere between 30 and 100 views per day beyond that. Are you out there, my boss’s boss? Hello, ex-boyfriends! Greetings to all my enemies, frienemies, stalkers, and identity thieves. You’re all invited. This is a public blog. We’re in this together. Please, please, please don’t F this up.

It’s risky putting all this out there, but you know what? This is my choice. This is how I live. This is so me. I’m loving writing. I keep a cozy loveseat for some of my favorite people in here. I love this!

I won’t subscribe to conspiracy theories… No one is taking this to my boss (right???). This post is about karma. I will be trusting and faithful that this will blog will do more good than harm, and that my readers will hold this information with exquisite respect and care. Lord knows, it’s done me a world of good to share with you, dear readers. The beauty rises to the top, the garbage falls away. What goes around comes around. I forge ahead with love and the best intentions.

And if you don’t like it, you can fuck off!!!!

dating, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

Obrigada

thesolomamaproject

This will be a quick post as I am in the Rio airport and boarding imminently! I entered so much personal info to get on the free airport network that I’m pretty sure my identity will be stolen any minute now… But not really (and no, I didn’t enter my SS#! Duh!)

I have a tall Itapaiva beer and the romantic Portuguese is starting to co-mingle with twangy Texan as we prepare to board our flight to Houston. I am exhilarated after our wild drive back to Rio and total success at every turn–nearly-missed exits where I blazed across 4 lanes of traffic, trying and failing to find any indication of highway numbers, and standstill rush hour traffic where teenage boys walk up and down selling snacks. Big Jesus oversaw us as we narrowly missed a bus trying to overtake our lane. We missed the airport, did a “retorno” and eventually pulled into the airport, had a complete miscommunication with the parking attendant and forged ahead anyway–ended up parking right near Thrifty (pronounced Treefchay), by coincidence. Car checked out and we were ready to fly home! Wheee!

Makes me want to keep traveling but, alas, it’s time to go home.

Incidentally, I fell in love today. I had some time to myself, sitting on a dock looking out at quaint old fishing boats and islands and calm waves, when this guy came over to chat with me. My flight is boarding so I will be short on the details. Sebastian. From Uruguay. We had this amazing 20 minute conversation before I had to go. I gave him my card in case he ever makes it up to California 🙂 Meanwhile he reminds me to keep my standards high, to reserve my precious time for guys who make me feel like THAT.

Brazil has been SO good for me. The beer is bringing out the all caps. If this were a travel blog, I would tell you all the details of delicious lovely wonderful Brazil. Instead, for this blog, I will just say GO.

Headed home. Obrigada, Brasil! ❤
And: one photo from our place in Buzios.

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dating, meditation, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC

and the winner is…

thesolomamaproject

I wasn’t so sure how my performance review was going to go today, given that I’ve had this very all-consuming solo mama project rolling alongside my formidable work responsibilities since the beginning of this year. It went quite well, actually, better than expected. I didn’t have to say I’m “going through some personal issues,” in order to keep the train on the tracks. I had the line ready (or even: “I’m going through some health issues,” if it was really bad), but I didn’t need it. It was a much more positive review overall than I expected, which is great since my manager will be one of my travel companions in Brazil. So now the trip doesn’t have to be horribly awkward with me giving her the evil eye over our caipirinhas. And we’ve agreed not to breathe a word about work while we’re down there = an awesome idea that will preserve the integrity of our vaca and friendship.

Considering the effort I’ve had to put in to keeping everything rolling without overly puffy eyes or sneaky non-drinking or coming in late or leaving early or making everyone wonder if I have a terminal illness because of so many doctor’s appointments…I’m going to have to file this one under Enormous Victory.

“How are you doing?” say my friends. Each time, I take a deep breath and pause. The answer is always different–depending on the moment and who I’m talking to.

To you, right now, I say, “Better.” It’s variable but there’s an overall healing trend, no doubt about it. I’m fine and then I sit down at a dharma talk and get a glimpse of the teacher’s face and there are tears streaming, streaming, streaming. And I sit. And when I try to open my eyes 45 minutes later, my eyelashes are glued together with tears. And when the teacher asks for examples of kindness, a woman tells a story of a friend whose neighbor lost her baby. The grieving mother was in seclusion. This woman’s friend wanted to do something for her, so she went around the neighborhood and took photos, on her knees, from the perspective of a stroller. Then she made a book of the photos of the baby’s perspective during his short life. Everyone in the room had tears streaming then.

And I came out feeling better from letting the emotions and thoughts and tears flow.

Later that night I had my first phone call with the paramedic. He really makes me laugh. It also turns out that he doesn’t take just regular old 911 calls but works “the baby car,” meaning he helps newborns, infants, and toddlers. (*sob*) We planned out the first couple months of our relationship already, which certainly breaks every rule and probably dooms our prospects. But I will still show up for dinner on Saturday.

And now I’m going to have cocktails to celebrate today’s City Hall wedding of dear friend B and his new wife, M!!! Love and blessings to these two. I am excited to see some of my oldest and best friends at the celebration.

Finally, the results of the shoe search. Thanks to everyone who sent links to gorgeous and fabulous shoes!!! How much fun was that! We’re totally doing this again.

J won with silver in the end. He said, “You don’t want to be the gringa in the pink shoes.” It was important to him that my outfit looked planned and matching, and I take his advice very seriously. Basically, he is never wrong when it comes to fashion. These lovelies will show up tomorrow. Cheers!

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biological clock, breakup, dating, depression, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC

into the waves

thesolomamaproject

So many people have let me know that they are inspired by my positive attitude, but let’s be honest: there is a huge negative attitude right behind it, two sides of the same coin. Most days it’s a choice: will you be grateful for what you have or resentful about what you don’t? Today the negative is overwhelming me. I spent the last two days with it packaged up in a little box so I could get through work meetings. You wouldn’t have believed it if you saw me: I was smiling, joking around, leading interactive presentations, drinking margaritas. I was surfing a big wave of emotion but always staying on the surface. I wasn’t even aware I could do that. It reminds me how many people are doing this all the time.

The very minute I was alone at the end of the night, I fell off the surfboard and into the waves. Today is the D&C. Today I just feel sorry for myself. It’s a big pity party over here. On top of the sadness of having a miscarriage, I am feeling the lack of a partner who clears his schedule to help me through the next few days. Thank god my sweet friend M is going to be with me for the procedure, and there are so many people there with me in spirit that it will be a very spiritually crowded room, and despite my negative outlook today I am hugely grateful for that.

I am so sad to let go of my ‘belly buddies’ as they continue down the pregnancy timeline and I fall off of it.

My dad has a strategy in tennis where he pretends he already lost and got another chance to win: pressure’s off. After weeks of anxiety and worrying and hoping, I finally lost. The thing I most feared actually happened. After talking to Dr. Tran on Monday, the conclusion is that nothing is wrong, we’re just waiting for a good match of sperm and egg. I had this stunning realization that this scenario is mirroring my dating life: bad match after bad match.

If I carry the tennis analogy through, I now have another chance to win. Which is true, and I will try again. I’m not giving up. I mean, I got pregnant 2 out of 4 tries and only started this in April–let’s keep it in perspective. All you have to do is watch the Olympics to know that you just keep trying.

In other news, the latest guy to ask me out is my friend’s ex-husband who wrote to me all about how crazy she is and by the way would I want to go out with him. Who are these people? Where is my good match????

At dinner last night, I overheard a co-worker (really beautiful, talented, sweet, single), say “Well, I’m 40 so I probably won’t have kids…” and I did feel even more resolved to keep trying as I nonchalantly sipped my first margarita in months. But this morning the disappointments feel cumulative–starting with the heartbreaks of my 30s, the BFNs, the poppy seed, and now the lentil. I just got a late birthday card from my ex-boyfriend’s parents…we broke up almost 10 years ago when he couldn’t commit, and now he’s married with a kid. Is there a way not to directly blame him for what I’m going through?

The Buddha would tell me to sit with it, all of it, and I’m sure that’s what I’ll do.

anxiety, dating, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC

le week-end

thesolomamaproject

Good morning! Since I am going to bed earlier all the time (lights out at 9:30 last night), the morning is becoming my sharpest time of day–might as well slip in a blog post.

Last week was intense. (not “in tents,” Dad–he will make a Dad joke and ask if I went camping). Between the two blood tests and the 4 days of work visitors and meetings, it was a lot happening simultaneously. I’m happy to say I weathered it–blood test results were great, meetings went well, and I got my tired ass to bed early each night. By Friday, I was toast and worked from home.

The weekend was lovely! Went out with dear S to an art opening, African music/art, and dinner on Friday. At dinner, I started feeling a mild pain on the right side. Nothing big, it just started talking to me. I soon identified it as my right ovary. What would be the job of my ovary at this point? Hard to say, but it started worrying me… I went home and read on the SMC forum that someone had just miscarried at 6 weeks. In the morning the pain was still there. The anxiety can kick up fast.

I drove up north to practice wedding music with MM, and fortunately the sensation tapered off throughout the day and hasn’t returned. So, great. Maybe my ovary just had one or two quick things to say. If it comes back, I promise to call the doc, Beans.

On Sunday morning, I went with L (also preg) on our usual run in the Oakland Hills! As soon as we took our first few running steps, we both grabbed our boobs and went “oooowwww.” A glorious blue-sky day, we talked nonstop about pregnancy topics for probably a total of 3.5 hours between the way there, the run (2h20mins included walking), and pizza afterward. Dr. Tran says to keep up the normal workout, so we did (with a few modifications). We’re both in great shape–would be awesome to keep up this weekend run as long as we both feel good. I feel so blessed that L is on my schedule!

After that, I had a late lunch date. Dating while pregnant! Still in the game! Don’t get excited though–lately the guys I meet online seem like they’re from another planet. I will be the first to admit that this is largely due to recent changes in my own perspective and less to do with them and their (seriously countless) quirks. While this guy was going on and on about himself for the first half of the lunch, I was more interested in this angelic two-year-old redhead with almond-shaped blue eyes at the next table over, and a 6-month-old at the table beyond that one. I’ll admit that I started playing the “let’s see how long I can keep him talking about himself before he notices he knows nothing about me” game, and was mildly disappointed when he finally did notice and started asking about me. After we split the bill, we ended up strolling a bit (my idea), which was better since I didn’t have to watch his distracting facial tics like flashing his lower teeth in the middle of a sentence–I kept thinking he must have braces or food caught in the sides of his mouth. At the end he said, “I’m leaving town on Wed for two weeks, so I’ll give you a call you when I get back!” Not a terrible guy, but…see ya never.

Maybe I am just not in the mindset for dating?!

I went home and shifted gears from Sex and the City to newly prego lady. I took a nap. Then my sister came over and did hands-on reiki on me which was very relaxing. In bed at 9.

I am 5 weeks 4 days today. Did you know that in the 6th week, the baby triples in size? That’s in tents.

Enjoying every minute!

acupuncture, dating, ovulation, parenthood, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

heroine

thesolomamaproject

It’s Tuesday night. (and my sister’s birthday, happy birthday B!) I’m camped on my big yellow couch in sweats watching the last rays of sunshine light up the north-facing buildings stacked between me and Buena Vista Park. The sky is so clear and the days are so long…and I know from so many years of being a San Franciscan that big summer fog is right around the corner, as is, fortunately, my escape to real summer in Michigan. This Sunday!

I woke up feeling so tired… the weekend in Sebastopol was fabulous, the best kind of therapeutic girl time, and I returned feeling something like jet lag after keeping slumber party hours for two nights in a row. On top of that, last night I splurged on two cocktails which seemed like a good idea given that it might be my last chance for a while. I don’t know if it’s age or weeks/months of sobriety or my new focus on fitness in recent years, but drinking multiple cocktails once in a blue moon generally makes me feel some shade of terrible.

After a lackluster work day followed by acupuncture, I feel totaled. I had planned on seeing Beans at meditation followed by a drink with Ms. R (who is inspiring me with her optimism), but I just had to come home. At this point, I’m working to stay awake until a reasonable bedtime, like 9:30.

Three more days of work, and I am out of here for two weeks.

I found myself remembering vacation of a year ago, traveling to Alaska with D., meeting tons of his family and promising his brother that when we came back this year we’d be married and pregnant. Then the trip to Michigan where I took him around to all the beautiful sights and he was nonplussed and I was going out of my mind with aggravation.

Acknowledging that dating is not my priority right now, tonight I wish I had someone here with me. Someone who would give me big smiles and attention. Maybe it’s that I’m about to ovulate, but I’m suddenly noticing all the affectionate couples on the street, thinking huh. Remember that?

One SMC friend was saying how right after her BFN her impulse was to go online dating, and I said, “That makes total sense–you want to create love in your life, either this way or that.” Me too. What a waste that I am spending so many years as an impatient single lady when I have piles of love for the guy of many plusses. . But I am seriously out of ideas on how to find him.

The baby love, on the other hand, is a lot more under my control, although still not under my control. I’ve noticed that now, having once been pregnant, I feel like mentally I’m a bit more prepared for it to happen again. I can talk about “when I’m pregnant” and not feel like a total fraud. Still… I’m on Day 14 and so far negative OPKs, seemed like tonight it was beginning to change color (yes, I’m testing twice a day), EWCM (not that I’m checking), and I’m hopeful that the positive will be tomorrow. Perhaps it’s later since my body is probably reorienting itself a bit.

All this raging feminist debate online about “having it all” also has me furious–good, important debate, but disappointing that it leaves out single moms (who, ps, are the majority of families) and those of us who are resigned to not having it all and wouldn’t even tease ourselves with that notion. Add on top of that SF and crazy rents and me in a studio still doing a 1040EZ… You guys, how is this all going to work?

Over the weekend, I found myself peeing on a stick in Samuel P. Taylor State Park on a hike, telling my friends, “Please tell my kid how much I went through for this.”

I appreciate this quote of Nora Ephron, who died today, “Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”

OK, Nora. After an ice cream bar and some sleep, I will.

breakup, dating, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

scrapes

thesolomamaproject

I’m so appreciative that when I don’t write for a few days, I get nudges. “Hi! Time for blogging!” or “HOW ARE YOU?” or even “Well?????” Thanks for these implicit compliments (are you guys addicted yet?!) and for your support. It’s never a publicity stunt, just me trying to keep all the ducks in a row over here.

Today I went for a lunchtime run with lovely A along the Embarcadero. Every Thursday, we meet up in a total funk, change at the gym, burst outside into what always seems to be a gorgeous sunny day, and congratulate ourselves throughout the run for having the foresight and brilliance to schedule this recurring meeting in Outlook. We feel like a million bucks afterward. You wonder why people run? That’s why. Instantly, everything (and I do mean everything) is better.

Well, today we ran down past the ballpark, a grittier, emptier side of town, all the way to The Ramp, as far as I know the only non-touristy bayside outdoor restaurant in the city. We turned around to run back, and a little way up the road, I was talking, mistook a tree-root sized bump in the asphalt for a shadow, and totally bit it. The ground and I became one. I fell so fast that I didn’t have time to get my hands out and simply crashed and slid, for what seemed like a really long time.

When you finally stop and come to your senses, there’s always that scary moment of taking inventory. Let’s see… Two bloody knees, skinned elbows and left shoulder, cut and bruised left hand. Check, check. No broken bones. Phew! But now the blood is dripping, so… back to The Ramp to get cleaned up.

The really astonishing thing is that just about exactly a year ago, I took my first major tumble while trail running in the Oakland Hills, and I injured those exact parts of my body in the same places! I reenacted the same fall, only this time on asphalt (I don’t recommend this).

Last year’s fall was indicative of my new case of insomnia and brewing anxiety about my then-relationship that I didn’t yet understand. Today’s fall I blame entirely on the two week wait.

It just knocks me off balance, much as I try to keep everything rolling, happy, and healthy. I mentally added up all my waits to total 6 weeks out of the last 3 months, and even executing the math problem was powered by resentment. Quite apart from “I’ve only been trying for three months,” this process just takes a heavy emotional toll. Today is Day 25, the beginning of the end, and to answer your question, I’ve been doing OK (no crying) but I’m feeling a little sick of this mode, the repetitiveness of it, hard to shake that it could be just like this every time, that I’m leading you all on a wild goose chase. I’ve been feeling like AF is coming, and also like I’m a million miles from pregnant.

But, at the end of the day, I’m pursuing my dream. So that does go a long way.

I’m also feeling extra grateful to be on my own and not shackled to some lame dude. I went out again with unexciting guy. Guess what? He was unexciting. Some dear readers weighed in that they liked the sounds of him but I think there were two forces at play encouraging a misinterpretation: for one thing I oversold him as “cuter and taller than I remembered,” but notice I didn’t say “cute” or “tall.” Secondly, he was presented as a counterpoint to RV guy, whom I obviously should not have been pursuing, so it was easy for readers to root for his polar opposite.

I’ll tell you why I wont be seeing unexciting guy again: after two dates, he wouldn’t pass even the most basic pop quiz about me. Where am I from? Who’s in my family? Where’d I go to school? Where have I traveled? What’s my job? Do I play music? What are my hopes and dreams while on this blue marble? These, my friends, are questions that were not asked, because essentially no questions were asked. I compulsively filled the space that would otherwise have been silence (yes, I let a couple of silences go to see what would happen, and the answer is that it only brought more silence). Pair this with the texts I received afterwards: “Had another wonderful evening with you. Can’t wait to see you again!” Huh?!?! Who is this woman he’s interested in? Because he doesn’t know shit about me!

And so, we find ourselves back with a clean slate, bloodied and bruised, hopeful that all this holding out for a healthy, reciprocal, exciting, durable love will facilitate its arrival, in whatever form the universe decides to send it.

Meanwhile, I’m doing all my own stunts.

dating, depression, meditation, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

upward spiral

thesolomamaproject

I got a text the other night from an SMC friend who is also in the two-week-wait and had just run into her most recent ex-boyfriend, the one with whom she thought she’d be having a baby. He was out with another woman.

Reading her text took the wind out of me… I felt a visceral compassion because I’ve been there and there’s nothing like that particular encounter. The next morning, I checked in with her to see how she was feeling, and she was sad, heavyhearted, spiraling down.

We all know the downward spiral, right? One thing happens, and then another thing happens, or maybe one really big and terrible thing (like this) happens, and you’re set on a trajectory of feeling worse and worse (see my “meltdown” post of a few days ago). Sometimes it’s a relatively tiny thing that tips the balance (someone’s facebook post or an offhanded comment) and, next thing you know, you don’t know which way is up.

When you get into this mode, it’s like the terrorists have already won. They have convinced you, by launching a constant campaign of neg bombs in your brain, that your life sucks, that you made bad choices, that it’s too late, that you’re not good enough, that you don’t want what you have and don’t have what you want. They are relentless sometimes. But as soon as you start to believe them, it’s curtains. It snowballs. And then it spirals.

Here’s the beauty part: the terrorists do not speak the truth!!!! Hilariously, they are technically working “for” you and their objective (ironically) is to protect you–but their strategies are archaic! They are the army of our vestigial three-part brain with all of its conflicting survival strategies playing out at once! First, we have our snake-like and simple reptilian brain, known for its fight or flight response. Around that, the puppy-dog limbic brain, seeking love and nurturing and recording all episodes of emotional pain to avoid its recurrence at all costs. And, finally, the professor: the nonstop talker, the neocortex. Our intellectualization of everything, the “telling of the story,” the planner, the worrier, the omniscient narrator who is a bit of a wackjob.

On one hand, it’s a wonder that we can function with all of this going on, surviving in a modern society with caveman impulses running in the background. On the other hand, it’s a miracle that we’re here at all, and we wouldn’t be without these crazy, complicated, wonderful brains. We just have to learn how to keep them in check. It is my belief that this is a lifelong practice that we all bought into the minute we left our mother’s bodies (and notably we do so earlier than many mammals, in order to keep growing our big-ass brains outside the womb).

One of my favorite books, A General Theory of Love, offers three main strategies for getting on a more positive track and overcoming major obstacles to a happier life: medication, meditation, and cognitive therapy. All three have been greatly effective for me at various stages: medication to correct the chemistry that at times gets stuck on the unhappiness channel, meditation to find the inner peace and tranquility that is blissfully separate from all the commotion upstairs, and cognitive therapy to actually correct some of the automatic thinking that can send you off on negative spirals.

So, in gchatting with my friend yesterday morning, I said: what would send you on an upward spiral? Seriously: even just posing the question cheered us both up. In posing the question, you take charge in that moment: wait up! I’m actually running this show! I can choose to push myself in a happier direction! What are those things that consistently make me happy? Make a list: walking, sunshine, tea, coffee, slippers, running, watching the waves, napping, writing, volunteering, baking, friends, solitude. Do those things. And practice gratitude. Gratitude is like water on the wicked witch. Let me know if the terrorists don’t at least order a temporary cease-fire.

You can even be grateful for the wicked witches and the terrorists. Give them a big smile and a thumbs up.

Then, once you’re movin’ on up, just keep going!

biological clock, dating, parenthood, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

connection

thesolomamaproject

Well, I’m stuck tapping this out on my iPad as I didn’t feel like carrying my laptop to the bar but feel compelled to share how the evening went.

I got too late of a start leaving the office to meet RV guy, and ended up bursting into the bar 17 minutes late, out of breath and apologizing. He was all smiles and and already set up with his beer and chatting with people at the bar. I ordered soda with lime (thinking “I’ll explain this later”) and pretty instantly felt right at home catching up with him. Within the first 10 minutes or so, he referenced his live-in girlfriend (news to me)–the same one who traveled around with him for a year and a half in the RV before I met him. I had put her down in history as proof that he couldn’t be made to settle down no matter how much the woman literally and figuratively “got on board.” Now she’s in school and 40 and, in his words, “resigned” about their future (as in resigned to the uncertainty of their future), and they’re living in a 325 square foot apartment while he sorts out challenging tenant issues in the other units of this building he owns that have spoiled his time back in the city and make him crave the Sierras again.

Then he said he wants to sail around the world for 2-3 years, and I belly-laughed and told him I just love him and he will always be That Guy to me. Confirmation that he hasn’t, and probably will never, change, and it’s really a beautiful thing (and I don’t need to worry about where the girlfriend fits in even though that was my next question).

When the conversation turned to me, I laid the Solo Mama Project on him. His reaction was unexpectedly and hugely and vehemently supportive. I instantly saw the connection–here I am acting like him: empowered, independent, chasing my dream, going against the grain. He acted like I solved the mystery of how to acceptably procreate. We talked about it for a long time. Eventually we got to the meaning of life and he thinks it is to have fun and I think it is to experience love. Next thing we knew we’d worked through 4 plates of tapas, I’d had 5 soda waters to his 4 Racer 5’s, and it was after 9.

He gave me a ride home in his WAY-too-big-for-the-city pickup truck (looks like a pickup truck that ate a pickup truck), got out to give me a hug and a kiss and I have to say it was the most lovely night, warm breezes and a bright moon, and he is still not right for me but I felt loved anyway. For all my frustration with him three years ago, I admire the adventurous spirit of that boy and it was nice to feel that he also admires it in me.

anxiety, dating, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

meltdown

thesolomamaproject

I need to make this brief because I must get in bed with Newsweek and read about Queen Elizabeth’s coronation 50 years ago. But first…

Total meltdown at band practice tonight! Out of the blue. I had such a peaceful and productive day that included meditation, a run of 70% energy (read: 11.5/min miles), nice homemade food, and I got a bunch of work done. But sometimes when I show up at band practice, I feel vulnerable, kind of like being around immediate family where your feelings are transparent. These ladies know me pretty darn well, and if something’s going to come up and out, it probably will.

We started out with strawberry shortcake and stories of all the kids…which is normally fine–not just fine, but welcome and fun and sweet to hear about, but for whatever reason it felt a little alienating tonight (maybe because my equivalent story was about hives). Then, our leader and songwriter EJ played a song ‘loosely inspired’ by ME of all people, and it was beautiful and poignant and by the end the tears were spilling over. I was touched and honored. I’ll post the lyrics here if she’ll let me. I loved the song. Then we rehearsed a song I hadn’t practiced, a suggestion was made about the violin part, and my confidence plummeted. I tried to hang in there but pretty soon the tears erupted like a volcano and there was nothing to be done but interrupt rehearsal with my big old crying spell.

My fellow banders read this blog, so I can keep talking about them like they’re here. I am certainly not the first bandita to erupt in a sea of tears–this is a family of six women and there have been many minor and major things to cry about over the years (4 years for me, longer for them). Also, of course, many things to laugh about and be silly about. Still, I felt embarrassed (despite the group hug and admonishments that “If we can’t cry here, where can we cry?”) and bewildered since I thought I was fine. But that’s why they call this a roller coaster. Or maybe more like Demon Drop.

Just when you think you’re OK, right?! But, thank heavens, the band is a safe space. So that’s where a lot of shit happens. I’m truly grateful for that.

A note on the date (I knew I wouldn’t get away with that total lack of summary): it was fun but unexciting. He was cuter and taller than I remembered–he’s athletic, smart, employed. He’s a divorced dad, which I didn’t know. He texted me beforehand and afterward with enthusiasm. He took a brief call during dinner. I asked him a lot more questions than he asked me. All of this to say: we’re having lunch on Monday. Is there anything less romantic than lunch on Monday?

Meanwhile, I’m scheduled to “have a beer” (without actually having a beer) with someone my friends will know as RV Guy tomorrow night. For those who have not heard of him, he can be summarized as Mr. Unavailable–but, newsflash, he no longer lives in an RV in the Sierras but actually bought property in SF. Has he changed his adventurous, rambling ways? Stay tuned to find out!