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TGFG: Addition to "The Boyfriend Dilemma"

 I was once told that I live my life like a cliche.  Well, the thing with cliches and quotes, and age-old sayings are that oftentimes, if not all, they are true.  Yes, I live my life as if it were a stupid silly little cliche. Yes, I too (although I say that I don't) have certain expectations from a relationship that I just assume things.  That any and all men that are even remotely interested in me should "just know" what I expect from them and vise versa, especially with this one because we have been friends for so long, and so forth.  But I guarantee you, they don't.  Moses (that's his pen name) has no clue how I feel about him. Even though when we are together we do know because we both feel it. It's electric.  Moses has no clue that not saying something silly and very cliche to me in a text such as "good morning" is what keeps me knowing that those feelings we have when we are together are still there while we are apart.  No, he doesn't know
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The boyfriend dilemma

 Why is it that when we imagine our perfect partner that when we finally meet them, it turns out that we are not the perfect partner for them - at all.  When do we know that delicate balance when it comes to matters of the heart and attracting the relationship that we desire?  I met my friend Moses almost a decade ago on one of those cheesy dating apps that was cool hip and fun at the time, but later discovered it was really just another way for men to get laid.  Moses is 5 years older than I am, fit and athletic, and likes to do the things that I like to do as far as physical activities. He is also incredibly sexy and very attractive. The downside about Moses is that he is seemingly a tortured soul, just like I am.  A free spirited black sheep that vies for attention because like most of us emotionally unavailable adults, was neglected as a child.   But that is the one thing that I love the most about him... Moses is wild spirit that can't be tamed.  Just. Like. Me.  Moses and I s

"I Lost My Chin In 2019" - Drew Barrymore

Jowl: noun plural noun: jowls The lower part of a person's (or animal's) cheek, especially when it is fleshy or drooping. I am going to talk a little bit about age. Yeah, I know. Not fun. Especially if you are in your early, mid, or late 40's. You may not even like this topic in your 30's because you know eventually... it's coming. When I was a kid, I noticed that each of my aunts had them. The old lunch lady had them, and my grandma had them. At the time, I didn't really consider much of it and thought that maybe it was because they were all angry Irish women or that maybe there was something in the water of our super small rural town that was also causing families to have an over abundance of children. When I started to notice a little bit of face drag as of recent, I thought that maybe it was because I am always on my cell phone looking down or typing away important papers for school (again -looking down) or maybe along with "global warming&

Life of Pi

It has been said that without failure, there is no growth. I can say that with all honesty there is some merit to that claim and there are moments from the past few months of my life that are completely unexplained; falling directly under the category of personal failure and growth. I have given the past three years of my life, the past three years of my time, money, energy, love, dedication, emotional support, failing health, and whatever else, to be thrown into a forced position to fit a mold that I tried desperately to escape since Jr. High and High School. Popularity. Unfortunately the career path that I had worked so diligently to pursue since 2011 had me as a "perpetually moving target swayed by the winds of polar politics" (Stowe 2019). In that, the power and influence were not judged by good work ethic and genuine action put forth to create improved results, but by "how well I played in the sand box with others" (Ellis 2019). The past three years

The 40 Year Old Grandma

Yes readers, something magical happened. I am now a real grandma. Real as in, not your stereotypical granny that has coke-bottle glasses, grey hair, shrinks, and wears their hair in a bun. I am a real grandma, as in, their father and I had children at the ripe ol' age of 21 (yeah, I missed the alcohol phase of that age) and my daughter in turn had her first baby at 22 which makes me... 40 something. You can do the math if you feel inclined. But truth, if I could describe perfection, that would be my grandson. He was 10 pounds and eats like a linebacker. He is already long and going to be super tall and his face... holy molly, he has the cutest little angelic face I think I have ever seen. I am positive I cried several times while holding him and he may already think I am nuts, but he indeed is perfect. He is wicked smart, too. I am not joking. If you ask him a question, he will answer you with a yes or no head nod. I can also read his mind. "Oh, you want gr

GFGF: Reading “To Love and Let Go” - Rachel Brathen

A couple of years ago when I started my Instgram account I typed in the word, "yoga" and the person who popped up was Rachel Brathen, aka Yoga_Girl. Of course the first thing I noticed were all the amazing pictures of her doing yoga in Aruba with deep blue skies, clear blue water, and that incredible white sandy beach.   I can assume that I am not the only human who day dreams any chance they can get of experiencing a life outside of their own, even if simply visually escaping for a swipe or two.   I clicked follow.  Then something interesting happened.  I started to like her.  I liked her views, her methodologies regarding yoga and the practice of.  I liked that she seemed down to earth and genuine.  Plus she said the word fuck . Like, a lot.  It was her boldness and her ability to say what she wanted to say - say it - then accept and deal with the consequences - that sold me on the idea that I wanted to go to Aruba and practice at Island Yoga

TGFG: The Pelican Man

A few years ago I was going through a really dark time in my life. I had just gotten married to the worst possible choice for a husband, and some really unfortunate things happened. Maybe I will write about those later. I will just say that it was one of the lowest points in my life. It was October, around my birthday and he was no longer living in the house. He was living with his paralegal and wife, since the day after we returned home from our honeymoon. I remember that I was so depressed that I couldn't get out of bed and I think I must have slept for a week straight. My kids were staying with their grandma, except my youngest. He was about seven or eight, and to this day that kid has rarely left my side. He called his grandmother (his dad's mom) and said that he couldn't get mom to wake up. I was in a state of unconsciousness. He was scared, because here was his mom who is supposed to be taking care of him, laid up in bed, sleeping for what seemed to be days on