“…see you laughing in the purple rain…”

I wrote this post in August one month after I'd met the man of my dreams.  I have waited and waited until now to tell my story of how I see him.  He knows.  I tell him daily he's my warrior, my hero.  But this is the story of the first time I saw my love.  I am, as always, grateful you've taken 5 minutes out of your day to read this.  xxoo, Robyn

Dear D, 

Here’s what I want you to know:

-You are crazy-sexy-beautiful

-You scramble my brain and my heart

-I love the man that you are with me

                          (an excerpt of a letter I wrote to D)

 

I’ve told you before I write.  I write how I talk, so it may take a second for you to get the cadence of my writing, but it’s easier if you imagine me telling this to you like one of my many stories.  Feel free to pretend to interrupt whenever you want to.  lol.  But I’ll keep going.  I’m typing because, D…wow…my handwriting is so bad.  It’s like a serial killer.  As I’m typing, I’m listening to Joe Bonamassa’s, “Reconsider Baby,” that’s on your cd I made you.  We listened to this in the car the night we met.  Well, here goes.  This is what I’d started writing and how I see you..(deep breath)

So I started to text a man-friend to tell him to come to the bar because it was bor-ing *zzzzzzzzzzzz* when HE came in like a tornado. No shit, guns a blazin'. His hands thrown up in the air in metal horns, head bangin', one leg in front of the other in a firm stance. I took one look at him, flipped my phone over, turned to my friend, M, and said, "I'm SO gonna meet THAT guy." I watched him bounce around the bar, shoot pool and as he'd sit and wait his turn when the music was playing, I'd look at his hands and feet tapping to the music. His right foot is hitting the bass, his left  hand is hitting the snare...holy shit, he's a drummer. Yay ME. More music. Air guitar. All guys play air guitar, but...yep...he's a guitar player, too. (backflip)My panties have just flown right off. I sing when it's my turn at the mic and when I'm done I march right over to him. He's looks rugged, like he's been in the sun a lot. Beautiful light eyes, tone body, I notice a random tattoo on his arm, Italian looking, I think, 5'9" maybe, and for me that is not tall. I like my men tall, but let me tell you something. Energetically, this man is 6'5".  He takes up so much space.  Someone asked me today why I love him, because yes, I do love him already even though it's only been a month, and this is how I answered.  D is more of a man than I've ever known. He's fearless (and I believe there's a difference between fearlessness and stupidity. Like when you have someone who'll put their hand in the hole because they're not scared or the one who'll do it because they don't know any better) and when he holds me I'm truly safe. I can rest.  I want to use the word, "blessed," when I talk about him because this word pops in my head over and over. D loves me... with ambivalence, but he does love me.  Anyway, so I walk right over to him,"You're a musician aren't you?" *hair flip* I give him my eyes and I smile a little smile. We talk and as we do, I am laughing louder than I have and my mind is working harder and faster than it has in years.  I can remember saying to him, "You're like my improv class. I'm exhausted."  Somehow (she says with a smile) I have no gas in the car and I need a gas station and I'm clueless to where one is...Yup, the comedian takes me.  I plug in my music and apparently I have pretty good taste.  We sit in front of his place and talk until the wee hours of the morning.  (wee always makes me giggle) But he leaves for an out of town gig with his band the next day.  (shiver...mmmm, still gets me) Two weeks later I'm lying in a bed with leopard sheets.  His bed. It's morning and I've probably slept 5 minutes, my body is happily sore from wrestling and it's time for me to skidaddle outta Joliet and fly back to The Grove. I look at him sleeping. It's the only time he holds still. lol. Otherwise he is nonstop. I trace over his eagle tattoo on his chest, his other tattoos, down to his stomach and his scar to where they took out one of his organs from an accident. I touch his deltoid muscles (one of my favorite parts on him) and his biceps...G-d, I love his arms. I memorize his body to remember it later and I run my fingers down to his hand where he squeezes mine. I kiss him goodbye and I leave. Two weeks after that I'm doing the same thing. But now my inner dialogue is telling me, "Say goodbye to him. Memorize him because you'll never lay with him again."  Why?  I’m not sure if my ability to express myself so freely is scary to a man that is so brave or if it’s annoying to him.  I’d received a beautiful email from one of my students with a youtube link to a song that was so moving that while I was telling D about it I started to get weepy/girly/cry-baby and not once did he touch me to console.  Not a hand on my shoulder.  Not an, “It’ll be ok.”  I think he was really tired and crabby and I was really exhausted, too.  I just didn’t know how he could lay next to me when I was crying and not touch me.  That’s when I said to myself, “He doesn’t want you.  He must not care.  He's told you over and over he doesn't want a relationship yet. Do you want someone who won’t be happy when you come home or do you want someone who’ll put his arms around you when you need it? When someone shows you who they are...believe them.”  So I look at his tanned, freckled-from-the-sun shoulders, his fresh haircut, the gorgeous lines around his eyes that just make us women look old and go for Botox. I watch his chest rise and fall with his breath. I trace his scar and his strong arms that will never hold me again. I drag down to his hand, to his fingers and they lace into mine and all the while I'm saying, "Goodbye, Baby, I love you. I want to give to you, but you don't want it. I'm so sorry. I wish I knew how to fix it. I wish you would tell me not to leave.  I wish you would let me in."

"You want me to walk you out?" he grumbles.  No way he’s getting up.

"No." I'm choking back tears

"You want me to call you later?"

I don't answer him for 10 seconds

"mmmm," is all I can get out. I get up and go out the door. In the car I cried for ten minutes praying he'd come out. Knowing in my heart he'd already gone back to sleep the minute I'd left. "Drive, Robyn. He's not coming. What is WRONG with you? Go home." and so I did. He had no idea I'd just left him. He didn't call, text. I have to stop here for now because my heart hurts. I'll finish when I can.

For three days straight I cried and cried to my friends. (I even left the state for a few days) More so because I just can’t figure out why the man who one minute tells me, “Be my girlfriend.  I love you.  I don’t want a relationship.  I don’t want a girlfriend.  I could marry you.  I just got away from somebody.  I want to be free.  I don’t want to be alone…”  Fuck!  Which is it?  Just let me know, ‘cause I can manage if I just know what the plan is.  My girlfriend, K, comes to do laundry and talk some sense into me and take me to dinner and beer.  (She says beer is something you drink when you want to be happy…um, ok.) It’s fun.  We talk, I feel better. The phone rings…It's D

blah blah blah(both sides) (I’ll try to call/text more)(I’ll try to keep my shit together and not flip out when you don’t call) *exhale*  I don’t think I could exhale for 2 days.  I feel so much better.  I get cute, funny texts from D the next day.  He checks in with me, I find him so right, I tell him how good it makes me feel that he did that for me.  I think it’s going to be ok.  He’s trying and that’s all I can ask. Haven’t really talked about anything, but who cares…some things can just be left alone.  Some things are just not that monumental to have to talk to death.  I want to laugh and have my dance breaks with him.  I want to talk about nothing, talk about something, watch tv, have a normal meal, go for a fucking walk, enjoy the rest of my summer.  I just want to be right now.  That’s as far as I’ve gotten.  Kinda at a standstill right now.  Love to you, R

 

That was August.  Some crazy things have happened with him.  I mean...CARAZYYY!!!  I've found myself sitting on the back of a golf cart at one in the morning between D and a friend of his (that I almost ripped his pinky off not knowing he was D's friend)looking at the moon when 5 minutes before that being stomping mad at him, or skinny dipping, I'm gonna stop there for now. What I know is this: from the moment that tornado came into my life I knew I loved him.  I've never been so sure of anything in my life as I am of that.  I stand for him and he does for me.  He's given me more in the last 6 months than I ever had in my 13 years of marriage.  More love, more laughter, more security, more peace.  He loves me and I know I deserve him. I deserve every ridiculous laughing, naked air guitar-ing, karaoke singing with family, dancing to Michael Jackson's PYT, delicious kissing, band practice watching, laundry folding, dinner making, birthday celebrating moment.  When I would watch those sappy romance movies on screen and I'd cry, oh fuckballs, would I cry, 'cause I'd think, "Would anyone ever love me that way?" Even when I was married I felt like that.  How sad.  But, yeah, it happens.  It really does because he's here.  I wake up to him and I am contented.  He's reminded me to smile again.  He's given me two sisters and another mother, too, that give me just as much love and courage when I don't have enough to carry myself.  I am rich, my sisters, rich beyond my wildest dreams.  Richer than I'd ever imagined I could be.  As I sit in my palace typing this to you, I know I've won.  I think what sparked this today was a series of events that just set me off.  I saw someone from my past who was very abusive to me and I was surrounded by support and love and it was such a change from what I'm used to.  I'm so grateful. It may seem self indulgent or frivolous to some, but I don't care, really.  If you knew me and my life, you know...you just know.  

So the songs I've picked for today are

Songbird by Fleetwood Mac 

Reconsider Baby by Joe Bonamassa

Purple Rain by Prince (I can still remember our first kiss to this song)

 

I Brag I have sucked in the most amazing man because I am finally whole with myself.  I am brave and pretty fucking brilliant.

I Am Grateful for living the life that I have now, for being free, for having the love I have now that I so deserve.

I Desire more.  More sparkles, more love, more fun, laughter, light, financial abundance so we can be comfortable, health, just more on this journey.   

Re-post with added notes in rememberance

It's coming up on the anniversary of M's death.  Two years have gone by.  How is that possible?  I am reposting it b/c I'd received a letter from one of his sister's short after I'd posted the first time.  I've saved it and I wanted to share it with whoever reads my blog.  Not a HAHA story, but it tells you about me and maybe why I'm such a loopty-loo.  lol.  You can stop reading and go do a load of laundry or go back to facebook and try to figure out the new configuration they've done this week, or you can motor forward.  Thank you for your 4 minutes.  Sending love, R

A random post from the Mastery Grad Boards triggered when I decided to leave

I belong to a women's group in New York that has absolutely changed my life...saved my life.  We have an online community that we are able to post anything and everything and we can comment to each other and I'd come across a post that I'd made before I'd separated from my ex.  I can tell you the exact moment that I made up my mind that I was going to leave my husband, the moment that I knew I would never look at him the same again.  This is not a haha posting today, my darlings.  I apologize in advance if it's too much.

It was rare that my husband would keep the kids out of the bedroom and quiet while I was sleeping, but this one particular morning I could hear him saying to the kids, "Let Mommy sleep."  Until he finally came in and stood on my side of the bed and said,
 "Robyn, I need you to be awake now." 
"Ok, what?"  I peeled my eyes open.
"M's dead."  Just like that.  But he was never one for mincing words.

I sat up immediately, "What?  What?  What do you mean?" He started to tell me that my mother's best friend's youngest son was dead.  I couldn't understand what he was saying to me, like he was speaking to me in a different language.  My ex dialed the phone and called the oldest of the 5 kids and handed it to me.
"J?" I choked out, "What happened?  What is this?"
"Robyn? We don't know what happened yet.  They found him laying there in his bed.  Ma is here layin' on the couch..."  J is sobbing. J is what you would call a man's man. Not a crier.  I'm close to this family.  I'd do anything for any of the kids.  We've been on vacations together, spent years of Christmas Eves together.  I'd just been to Miami with the middle sister.  The youngest sister interned for my (then) husband, the youngest kids had come over to get chicken pox from me. 
"I'm getting dressed now.  I'll be there in an hour."
I am so fucking confused and out of sorts, I put my shoes on before my pants and I can't figure out WHY my pants won't go on over my shoes.  I'm trying to hold it together as best as I can, but I'm still crying.  Ex grabs me by the shoulders and sits me down on the closed toilet seat in the bathroom, looks into my eyes and says, "Robyn, I don't want to stop you from going...but who's going to make dinner?"

I sat in silence for a good 30 seconds before I replied.
That's the moment.  That's the moment I said in my head, "I am SO leaving you."  All the Mama Gena, Inner Circle, Therapy, Lexipro...NOTHING will ever make me forget this moment of, "But who's going to make dinner?"  I tried so hard to find him right.  It was Yom Kippur at sundown and he was worried he wouldn't have food for the fast.  "Can you go to your parents?"  But he said that they eat too early.  I suggested some takeout menus downstairs and that seemed to appease him for the moment.  At least long enough for me to get in the car and start my hour-long drive.  M's death was...is still very hard for all of us who knew him.  It's only been a year since he's been gone.  He was young and so handsome and ridiculously fun to be around. And, my G-d could he dance.  His middle brother is my age (always the one that I was kinda associated with the most) and at one of the many parties we were all at, M and I danced together and when the song was over he said in my ear, "Now who's your favorite?"  Flirty little fucker!  So, of course I told him it was HIM.  I'd watched him grow from a little boy into a man.  Such a good, kind, loving, giving man.
At work I made a special playlist that I used, and I still use it every once in a while because I know that M would love knowing there are all these women pole dancing and lap dancing in his honor.  Yeah, he does.  I am grateful for knowing M.  For the memories I have.  For still having his amazing family in my life. For whatever purpose his death had to serve, although I'll never understand why.  But I am grateful because it led me here.  I miss you.  With love, R

I have two songs for M tonight
"Somebody," Bonnie McKee
"Calling All Angels," The Wailin' Jennys
The email I received from his sister:
"

• blog
  Hi Robyn,
  Most of the time I am just truckin' along, trying to get through the day with a thousand thoughts of M and trying to just keep going. Then, about every month I have a moment where my soul just says, "stop everything you're doing and be sad". As much as I know they are necessary, I HATE these moments. I literally was up the entire night last night with tears and anxiety about M. It was my body, mind and soul telling me I had suppressed it too long. I have been in tears all day. Just a "M day". I know you posted it for a different reason (which I think is amazing by the way), but I just want to let you know how good it was for me to read that today. Hearing where you were, your conversation with J, how much we all mean to you, and your funny story about the flirty dancer made my day and helped me to know, it's ok to be sad today. As silly as that sounds I need to be reminded of that sometimes. It is still hard and always will be. Love you Robyn.
  B xo"

   "I don't want to ever paint a negative picture for you of [my Ex] and that day. He adores you. He just is who he is and I've learned ya just can't make a cat bark. Your mother is my Mom's only real friend, I truly believe that. My mom doesn't talk to anyone other than her sisters on the phone, she doesn't go to dinner, have anyone over, go anywhere, but with your mom. Your mom has done things for me that risked a lot in her life. I mean, she had an intervention at my Mom's dining room table and ambushed me just last March. (oh yeah, that was fun) Um, I've kissed all the men in your family inappropriately at some point in my life and tried to get your sister topless in a tropical climate. (ok, that may have been too much, sorry) I remember you as a little girl on a cruise ship eating ice cream with M right before dinner but you were such a little lady. I've seen J cry more times than I want to remember for things that no family should have so much hurt from. But the crazy thing is...I am so in love with each and every one of you. And every time I get to come to a party/celebration I am excited and can't wait to bring the kids or NOT bring the kids. Maybe M had a hand in my posting yesterday so you could see it and have a laugh or know someone else's story of where they were when they got the news. Or maybe it's the other way around for you to comfort me. Either way, it gave me a chance to say what has been in my heart. My love for your mom and your family is as strong as what I have for my family. And I'm always here. Much love, Robyn"

"I love you, Robyn. You're so special. Thank you.

PS: There is nothing fun about the (Her Mother) intervention/ambush. So happy you survived it;)"

I carry a lot of anger about the whole thing.  I don't understand the whole, "It was his time.  It was meant to be, " Bullshit.  A friend of mine died about 11 years ago around the same time and she was in her mid-twenties, one of my best friends, she was in my wedding, and I just don't believe the, "It was her time.  God wanted her to come home."  What the fuck is that?  Maybe that's why it hurts more about M.  Because it's the same time/month.  B/c it was the catalyst to the end of my marriage.  (Grateful for that) B/c they were both so ridiculously young and it's just so pointless.  Ok, so Sunshine, where's the rainbow?  I don't know.  Right now I'm in a huge transition in my life.  I'm not very grounded, but I'm free.  I'm happy.  I'm living.  I'm loved.  I am as free as a feather on the wind and I wouldn't trade my life right now for anything.  So I guess that's the rainbow.  I lead by example.  I love openly and give my heart to those who deserve it and to those who need it the most.  I miss M b/c he represented something so profound in my life.  His death was in essence the death of my marriage, an integral part of my life that had been a sickness as well.  Or...I'm totally cracked.  Either way, I'm alright with the end of my marriage.  I still know where the ex lives.  He calls me...ugh...so I hear his voice whenever I want.  The death of a friend...not the same.  Miss you baby boy.
 

In the Mood

Some of my most fun adventures have happened when I've been traveling to and from NYC.  This particular time I'd had the pleasure of sitting next to this beautiful woman and her 11 y/o daughter.  The woman and I had talked the majority of the flight to LaGuardia about raising our daughters to be strong women.  I'd, of course, told her all about Mama Gena and even brought out my copy of the School of Womanly Arts, to which she immediately jotted down the title.  She'd told me about the different treks she and her daughter had gone on.  I tried to imagine my daughter and I trying to hike up a mountain together.  The thought now makes me laugh...What?  No room service? Evian? I'd also given her my card from my studio and told her any time she was in Chicago I wanted her to come and take a pole class with me.  She was just amazing, this lady.  So strong, but very hard.  I was telling her she should practice getting her flirt on more.  When I'd mentioned the tool, 'Finding the attractive feature in every man," she'd mentioned to me that there was a company car coming to pick her and her lovely daughter up and since we were all going to midtown, why didn't I catch a ride with them.  Now, let me say to those of you that don't already know...as a Goddess, this is normal practice.  Good things always happen to us.  Of course I scored a free ride in a luxury car.  Whooopeeeee!  So I said, "Yes Ma'am!  And, we're going to practice.  No matter what the driver looks like, we're going to flirt.  All that means is having fun in our own skin.  We flirt with babies, with dogs...We are just going to be in our pleasure...deal?!"  As the ginormous black Escolade pulls up, the door opens and out steps a 6 foot 3" tall, dark skinned, dark haired, Mediterranean man.  He was HANDSOME.  I looked at my hostess, I looked at my driver, I looked back at my hostess, hit her on the arm and said, "Are you fucking kidding me?"  We both broke into hysterics.  The driver grabs our bags, puts them into the SUV and we're on our way to Manhattan.  Neither of us can look at each other with out laughing.
 "Thank you so much for picking us up, Darling.  What's your name?"  I ask
"M,"  he answers very straight forward. No nonsense.
"Really.  Great name."  I say and then the woman says out of nowhere...
"Why don't you show us some of your pole dancing moves?"  In the car? very smooth.  She still needs a little schooling, but it's ok.  She's learning.  M doesn't flinch.
We get to my hostess' hotel and I get out and thank her.  I look on my iPhone and hold it up for M to see.
"M," I point at my phone and stand right up next to him.  He's tall and his shoulders are broad.  He's wearing a nice suit and Burberry tie."This is my hotel, am I far?  Is it walkable, or should I grab a cab?" (eyelashes batting)
"I'll take you there," I've now got a better look at him, his eyes are dark, his nose is crooked.  He opens the door for me again and I hop in.
"That's so sweet of you."  We have small talk.  I tell him why I'm in NY and he turns to me and says
"Are all the women in your group as beautiful as you are?"
"No."  I laugh.  "Of course they are.  They are the most beautiful women you'll ever meet." 
He takes me to the hotel and tells me he's been driving the Prince from one of the countries in, like, Bangladesh, for a week and he's been staying in my hotel so he'd be available to the Prince.  Really?  Of course he has.  He gives me his card and says, "If you need anything while you're here.  I will make myself available for you."  I am dropped off at the hotel. 
I get into the lobby and it is the most beautiful lobby EVER!  There's a huge sculpture that I immediately make a joke to the concierge that I'm going to hang my purse on it.  He and I ended up becoming fast friends.  D...I still email with him from time to time.  He walks me over to the check-in and I guess my enthusiasm showed and made such an impression, that they upgraded my room.  I had a view of the Hudson River.  I sent a text to M, "I am the luckiest girl in the world.  I'm so blessed and you helped make my day.  Thank you.  And you're right.  The hotel is spectacular."
He texted back, "I'd love to see you tonight."
Uh oh. 
Did I mention I was married at the time all this was happening?  Unhappily...but married, nonetheless.  Shit.  shit shit shit.  Say no.  Say no. 
"I have my event with my girls.  I won't be back until late.  It was a pleasure to meet you, M."
"I'll meet you after.  In the lobby.  I'm staying there with the Prince and the staff."  Oh, fer fuck's sake.
"Ok, but just for a minute."  Oh, nothing good could come of this.

 We sat by the window overlooking Columbus Circle and talked.  I find out he's not an employee of the company.  He ownsmy car with my name was waiting for me with my driver with strict instructions to take care of my every need until my next arrival to NYC.  Which that one was even more amazing.  But that's another post entirely.  I still talk with M and when I come to NYC he still takes care of me and my sisters. 
Yes, my loves, I have but almost forgotten what it was like to be treated the way I deserved recently.  Today I'm going to pamper myself with a spa day.  I'm going to remind myself how I deserve to be treated and loved and if the proverbial, "he," is not on board, then, "he," is not for me.  I told someone the other day, "I put you on a pedestal and treat you so well, my darling, because I expect my seat to be right there next to yours..."  I am not a doormat.  Do not attempt to wipe your boots on me. *exhale*  And now he's gone...again...lol.  This time I think for good.  What's the saying, "Fool me once..."?  What about fool me three times?  Ugh, I'm not going to litter this blog with him and take away from my driver.  If I ever get around to writing about the other, I will...but not now.  I hope this installment of my fun, ridiculous, fluffy, haha life finds you all well.  I am standing for all of you and still believing. 
My song picks for today are:
If You Want Me To Stay by Sly & the Family Stone
Naughty Girl by Beyonce

I Brag I am strong enough to write about my life whether I make mistakes or not, I remain true to myself and have fun.
I Am Grateful for friends with arms that hold me, ears that listen, and hearts that are big.
I Desire a new direction on my journey.

The Voice, Love Letters, and Perfect Timing...I'm a triple threat!!!

 A few weeks ago I auditioned for NBC's The Voice.  I didn't tell a whole lot of people and the few that I did tell I kept asking, "Are you sure I'm not like those crazy people who thinks they can sing but really can't?"  I was so afraid I'd find myself in one of those episodes like you see on American Idol where they break the screen into a four-square and you've got the loony-birds all singing their own version of the Star Spangled banner in chicken suits and William Hung on the side doing, "She bang, she bang..." over on the sidelines.  The few that I asked assured me I wouldn't make a total ass out of myself and so I said, "what the fuck," and went for my dream.  10 hours of waiting in line and meeting some very interesting people, seeing some that I knew, (one that I've actually blogged about, the wrestler/singer/actor) and being herded like cattle, I was finally given my 30 seconds to sing my heart out.  I tanked.  I sunk like a stone in a lake.  Eh, next year.  At least there were no chicken suits in line.  It was a legit singing show and I was happy to just be there.  As I walked out feeling a bit low, I clicked my phone to check the time.  A message on my facebook appeared from someone I haven't heard from in about 3 years. I had written to him in May (it's now July) so I'll start with my letter to him and then his response.

Hi J, I don't know if you even remember me. I'm the girl who found you unbelievably irresistible and threw herself shamelessly at you in NYC a few years ago. That probably narrows it down to about 3,500 women in 2009. Now shrink it down to funny-pole-dance-teacher-sister-goddesses-with-pink-hair...anything? Ok, even if it doesn't, I'm hoping you'll just smile and nod for the minute or two it will take to read my adorable email, which now I've promised to be adorable, so here goes...I check in on your page from time to time because you are absolutely a catch and I wait to see who that lucky girl will be and if there will be a parade or a blackout or something if it ever happens. It's been about 4 months since I've last checked in and when I came on to see your picture with you in your hat, your smile, your 5 o'clock shadow,  when I started to read the posts about your dad. I started to read about you as a son. I've read about you as an uncle. I knew about that already and I've seen pictures and had that, "Awwwww," moment. Which is oh, so sexy, btw. But I wanted to tell you as someone who doesn't really know you or your dad, for that matter, your father must have been loved and loved well. He raised honorable men, too. So I wanted to share my first memory of you.
I was with the Sister Goddesses at an after-party and as a big sister, I was having the time of my life with my, "littles," when I saw you dancing with your friends. My G-d, can you dance. I kept looking at you and thinking how great a dancer you were and how much fun you were having. What a beautiful energy you had. I complimented you and you were so genuine with your smile. We danced upstairs together and I would take sips out of your drink (which tasted like lighter fluid...and I had no trouble showing you this in my face.  Christ, how do you drink that?) and you'd laugh at me when I'd do it. When it was time to leave, you said to me, "Robyn, it's NY, where's your coat?" I said, "J, Darling, this is a cashmere wrap," and threw it over my shoulder like a fucking Gabor sister and marched out the door. Another laugh. You are so generous with your laugh and your smile. You grabbed a cab for me  (which was not an easy task) and put me in the cab, and at the last second I asked you to come with me, but you looked back at your friend and said, " I can't. " "Please come, J, it'll be so much fun." "I can't," you laughed again and kissed me goodbye. And off I went.
I am at my mother's right now and breakfast is ready. I hope this email made you smile at least a little because it made me happy remembering it. I do remember more. (We'd had another meeting) But this story came to my mind from reading about your dad. I'm so sorry for your loss, Honey. You are such an amazing man just from what I saw of you that night, J. From across a bar. Your smile, your laugh, your generosity, your spirit. I just wanted you to know I see you. For what it's worth, I remember. Love to you, Robyn

Robyn!!!
I don't know how I missed this message in my inbox but I did. I am so glad that I stumbled upon it today. Been a crazy tough week with work and I was a little off today and just read this beautiful email from you and you successfully made me smile... BIG!!!!
All else is good by me. Work is great - took a new job 11 months ago and I love it. I do have a lady in my life now, her name is S and she has been an absolute rock for me during this very tough year with my dad getting sick and then passing.
Thank you so much for those amazing words, it made me so happy reading them. You too are extremely special and beautiful and wonderfully full of love!!!
How are you doing? Are you still in Chicago. How are your gorgeous kids? How are your goddesses?

Please give me an update.

With so much love,
-J.

 

You have no idea what perfect timing you have. I was walking out of my audition from The Voice. After waiting in line for 10 hours to get 30 seconds to sing and get a, "Thank you for your patience, but no thank you." I clicked on my phone to see the time and your message was here. I'm so happy to hear you're well and about S (she says with a forced smile) kidding. The kids are doing as well as can be expected, but at least they are seeing their mother in a happier place. I'm sitting in the sunshine drinking an iced coffee and I'm exactly where I should be. Sending you so much love, Jojo. Please come visit Chicago. You've always got a friend here. xxoo, Robyn

 

Remembering that time and writing to him made me happy and brought me to a place of gratitude.  So what if I didn't make The Voice this time.  Look where I am.  I am living the life that 4 years ago I didn't think would be possible.  Sure, I may not be where I want to be yet financially.  My love life is a bit ridiculous at times.  But I wouldn't go back.  I have truly become the creatrix of my destiny and every step I've taken has had purpose.  I adore writing my love letters to my friends.  Do you realize how short the time is here to tell people how you feel?  I'm not waiting anymore.  I don't have the time nor do I have the energy to waste on bullshit.  I choose to live in my truth...aaaaand I'll stop there before I get too much higher on my soap box. (steps off) Sorry, sometimes I get a little excited.  If you haven't gotten a love letter from me yet, you will, don't worry.  It may be long, short, a poem, but it will be from my heart.  Today's song pic from me...Natalie Merchant's, "Kind and Generous," this one I find myself dancing around the apartment with my hands up to the sky at 3am just being happy I'm free. 

I brag I am living the best life.

I am grateful for the community of friends I have.

I desire clarity on where to go next.

Matzo Balls, Seinfeld, Chopped liver, big noses...UM!!!! THINGS WITH MANNERS!!!! DING DING DING

Since it's shomer Shabbos, I thought this fitting.  This is the most recent email I received today from a potential suitor.  I'm going to go back and watch Yentl AND Fiddler On The Roof because I just can't figure this one out:

 You are Jewish. You were brought up to say please and thank you. I was taught the same. I would live to take you out for lunch or dinner some day. :)
Brian

Brian, I was brought up with manners. Being Jewish had nothing to do with it. I'm a little confused by the correlation between the two. So, I'm going to say no thank you


Didn't mean to offend you. I'm Jewish and my mother instilled manners in me. I hope you can understand that.
Brian

I grew up in an area that was not primarily Jewish. Maybe if I'd grown up here in the North Shore that line would've worked. I've always believed manners were taught...not passed through religion. Good luck on your search

  Wtf?  A) Only Jews say please and thank you?
           B) This Jew didn't even proofread his email before he sent it.  He'd live to take me to dinner?
           C) You know, I can't even think of a C.  All I can think of is going and knocking on my neighbors' doors and asking them a question just to see if they say please and/or thank you.  I have a Hispanic family on one side of me and an Indian family across the hall.  I live in a melting pot for Christ's sake, and I bet I've heard them say, "Thank you," on more than one occasion when I've passed them.  What a DORK.  You are making a first impression.  Here's another one that was yesterday.  This guy looked like an orange Oompah Loompah with Q-tip white hair cut in a flat top. I am cutting and pasting so I'm not exaggerating:

How u doin if u like what u see msg me I still feel like im 25 but im dealt 47 dnt feel like it at all lol u dnt look
like it either.

Um, thanks? So are you 47 or 37? B/c your profile says 37.

m 47 does it really i didnt no my friend who set dis up did all da typing on his computer i was dare but he did da typing lol yes im 47 lol i still fell 25 and just for da record no way do u look ur age lol i think ur gorgeous ur very attractive i like ur look and styile i think we could gave alot of fun lol did u like what u saw other den my age i didnt see whare it said im 37 ill have to look. so do u like what u see? hope so 

Is this how you really talk?

no i just shortin my words when i txt lol like instead of saying THIS LOL I WOULD SAY DIS LOL SEE WHAT I MEAN LOL i do have a new york accent tho but anyway u say u hate spiders im deathly afraid of dem lol i mean them i almost died i got bittin by one it was bad. u say u love to kiss im a great kisser lol so ive been told i love to kiss and cuddle lol and u say ur not a good speller me either lol especially when im txting cuz i shorten da word up just habit lol we have alot n common i think what do u think lol chow for now.

Yeah, no, good luck to you, though.

 Oh my G-d.  (tumbleweed rolls by)  He says he's a Kung Fu instructor.  (shaking my head trying to speak)  I can't...I can't get any words to come out...It's just so ridiculous.  How?  Why?  Why is it so hard to find someone normal?  A friend of mine called yesterday whom I hadn't spoken to in a while.  He's this gorgeous Israeli.  Musician, was in the Mossad, played pro b-ball...still talks with the accent, omg, so sexy...wait, I'm just going to take a minute...ok, and we were talking about how hard it is to find normal people.  He finally found his match.  He found her on-line, believe it or not, which is how most couples are finding each other nowadays.  But he's SO in love.  I remember when he called me to tell me about her.  Now he tells me they live together and he's probably going to marry her.  WHOA!  But I'm happy for him.  I believe in love.  I also believe in me.  *sigh*  Gonna get in the shower.  It's Friday night.  You didn't really think I was going to stay home and pray, did you?


Tonight my song picks are:
Ai Du by Ali Farka Toure & Ry Cooder
You Give Love A Bad Name by Bon Jovi


I brag: I am still growing, loving, expanding.  I see the good in people.  Even the ridiculous.
I desire: somebody normal.  I'd like a normal date.  Haven't had one in a while.  One that doesn't start out normal and turn out nuts.  Maybe normal is a relative term.  How about nice, funny, sweet, handsome, that treats me well.
xxoo, R

I saw Andre the Giant once. Does that count? Junkyard Dog? Hulk Hogan!

I remember once when Sheila, my boss, came to visit us at our studio to give us our continuing education and to do some body whispering training.  She took all of us instructors to an Italian restaurant around the corner and I was sitting next to her (she still makes me nervous with these crazy eyes that stare into your soul) and she kept turning to me and touching me in some way.  Whether it was my arm, my hair, my face…she made some kind of contact with me.  Finally she said, “What is going on with you that I feel this pull to you?  I feel like you’re needing this today, “ and she demonstrates how she’s been touching me on the arms and hair and such.  Now, the whole time she’s been here for the visit, I’m my usual clown-like self, making jokes and you’d never know there was anything going on, but immediately my eyes welled up.  It was the time that my marriage was starting to fade.  Sheila is so empathic.  She knows where to go when the energy is pulling her and when she’s needed.  I ended up having a dance that day at S-factor that was cathartic.  ("Mama," by Beth Hart, if you wanted to know) The reason I’m starting with this…

Last week…WHEW!  (Been more than a week now, but I've been sitting on this post deciding on where it fits in my world) Divorce final, broke up with my man, met super-cool people Friday, saw a horrible fight where a guy with a cast bashed a pretty little 21 y/o face on her birthday.  She was wearing a sparkly tiara.  Met a guy on Sunday, went on a date with him on Monday.  (Different post.  So fun.  He treated me so nicely.  Bought dinner.  Kissed my MOTHER’S  hand and she giggled like a school girl...hilarious!)  But the last few guys that I’ve been out with, I just feel broken.  I have a friend that I’ve taken her phrase from her, “I can’t be bothered.”  I’m kinda burned out.  How freaking sad is that.  ME, HAPPYSUNSHINE EVERYTHING IS RIGHT IN THE WORLD!  I’m finding that I’m just not finding what I desire.  Ah, I digress.  So last week my friends and I go into this karaoke bar close to my hometown and I immediately see a guy who just does not look like he fits.  Not in a bad way.  He just is more...um, sparkly.  Stylish is probably the word I want.  Sparkly makes me think he looks like the women I see that live in Boca that play maj jongh with the rhinestone glasses that talk like they've smoked a pack of Lucky's and drank a fifth of gin...and they're named Lil.  Feel me? I live up in the Northshore now, so when I come back to visit J-town, it’s a lot different.  I love it.  I love where I’m from.  Keeps me honest…yo?  See, I speak jive.  Anyway…the guy…sitting at the bar.  He takes up space, longer dark hair, bandanna on his head, baseball hat on top of that, big shoulders.  As I was coming back from fixing my face I stared at him.  My stare of, "I'm gonna put you on a piece of bread and eat ya like a sammich," stare.  He looks like he’s unapproachable, like he's got a force field around him.  That’s my first impression, “Holy shit.  He looks like a big meany.  Why is he in a karaoke bar?”  When he gets called up to sing he strolls, ‘cause , yeah, he’s got a swagger, up to the area and I’m thinking, “What’s he going to sing?  Some Guns N Roses, maybe?  Metallica?”  I’m looking at his fancy pocket jeans and his square toe shoes.  He’s tall and so handsome.  I’m watching as he grabs the mic on its stand with both hands, props one foot on the base, leans in, cocks his head and breathes in as the music starts… (pling pling pling) ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???? NEIL DIAMOND, “SWEET CAROLINE???”  I am hysterically laughing.  However, he sounds amazing, just not what I expected.  Everybody in the bar is singing along, “BAH BAH BAH,”  and the scary bad boy is no more.  Force field, gone.  Meany-shmeany, I'm so excited he's a goofball I can hardly contain myself as I hit my friend on the arm.  "Did you hear that?"  He goes back to his place at the bar with his friend and I am still speechless.  I guess he’d been up there already, we got there late, blah blah, sang all sorts of stuff, but I get Jewish-man-in-polyester song.  YESSSS!  Turns out he is kind of a rock star, I guess, and an athlete of sorts, but more of an actor, I think, in the industry.  Not really sure.  What I do know about him is he has an energy that pulls me to him like Sheila was pulled to me.  Ok, maybe not the SAME energy (eyebrows up and down) but it’s the same concept.  I am always touchy-feely-lovey-dovey.  But I marched right over to him in my too-high heels and introduced myself and he (and his adorable friend) ended up with me/us for the rest of the night…not like that ya dirty girls…just near me.  He’s not cocky or mean.  He’s fun and nice, I almost dare to say sweet, but really guarded.  I should probably take a lesson or two.  The night ended with all of us going to an after-hours club that had some poles in it and that's where that poor girl got her face smashed.  I didn't see what happened b/c I was giving my digits to Rock star/Wrestler/Actor who turned out to be soooooo much younger.  OMG, so much younger.  But that kinda put a damper on things and our goodbye turned out to be watching this poor girl covered in blood getting into an ambulance.  I was hoping I'd get a Mulligan because there was just no salvaging that goodbye.  I’m going to just skip to last night because I’m going to meet friends for lunch.  We met again out at the same karaoke place and, my G-d, he's handsome.  I can’t get a read on him at all about how he feels about me, (he comes to meet me from his hometown about an hour away, we have some cute conversation here and there...eh?) and really…”I can’t be bothered,” because I am so broken, myself.  I’ve had more guys promise the moon in the last few months than I could shake a stick at.  We sing, we dance.  We get ready to go our separate ways and I say, “Nonononono, I’m not letting this happen again.” and I take him by the hands and lead him away from the group.  small talk small talk I’m guarded I’m burned out I can’t be bothered I don’t want a boyfriend/girlfriend incapable blahblah I’m about to invade your space so get ready for it because if you don’t want me to say so now because it’s comin’ do you feel like we’re on display b/c they’re looking at us I don’t care I’m old now if they wanna look let them I’m going to kiss you now(leaning in, but I freak and I pull away from him, but then) *KISS*  Nervous, can’t figure out his rhythm and we’re buzzed and friends are looking.  Fuck, my timing is perfect with him, though.  This is how it’s supposed to be, I just haven’t found what the lesson is yet…and who it is for.  I think it's mine... 

This is where I'd stopped writing for a bit about this guy.  I wanted to see if anything ever came of it...and it didn't.  Of course not.  Remember when I said he was younger?  We're talking like Robyn-what-are-you-thinking younger.  But it was fun to have a crush.  I think that's what my lesson was.  Stop being so serious, because lately with the last few guys that I have dated, whoooo, just not the right ones for me.  One didn't like how free I was...The other said he liked it, but showed his true colors in a text message when I told him he had to talk to me like a lady.  Oh, my lovelies, I have such a low tolerance for bullshit and drama.  I can't stand it.  If you don't treat me right...I go.  Simple.  Ok, so my song picks are, I have 3 because I couldn't decide which one made me happier.  Enjoy your dance breaks with these:
Paralyzer by Finger Eleven

Control by Puddle of Mudd

Seeing Things by Black Crowes

I Brag I am an amazing teacher and I'm back on the schedule at S-factor full force again.

I Am Grateful for my ability and ease to talk to people and make them feel comfortable.

I Desire more...more love, more fun, more financial abundance, more sparkles.  

I hope this post finds you all happy.  Take a walk outside today.  Notice the trees.  Notice something.  Love love love, Robyn

I can sleep when I'm dead

Let me tell you a little something about me if you haven't figured it out by now.  I'm a girly-girl.  I can watch sports, but I can't play them.  I may not understand what's going on, but I'll be fashionably correct for the occasion.  That being said, this particular weekend that I'm about to talk about, I'm on about 2 hours of sleep for the last 48 hours, I've just broken up with my boyfriend for having a complete melt-down on me for what I consider to be no good reason.  I never consider it ever a good reason to say, "FUCK YOU!" to someone you supposedly care about because once it's out there, you can't take it back.  I'm sitting in my apartment after just finishing a really awesome man-training session of having my neighbor and his son help me carry my new wicker furniture up from my car to my balcony when I get a text from one of my best friends in my home town asking me to come to watch the game at a local bar with her and some friends.  My girlfriend is just beautiful and impossible to say no to, so I drag my body and a change of clothes back down to the car and tell her I'm on my way.  Seriously.  I can't believe I'm going.  It's been an unreal weekend.  I'm still in shock over the boyfriend thing, but oddly enough, kinda numb.  Maybe it's the lack of sleep.  I get to my girlfriend's house.  How can she look so pretty in a baseball hat and a t-shirt?  Do you have friends that tell you how bad they look and you just want to shake them?  We head over to the bar and get these bracelets that allow you to drink all you want and get shots every time there's a shot made from the three-point line.  Hmmm, sounds like a great idea for someone who hasn't slept in a freakin' weekend, but my new tattoo is hurting pretty badly (yup, told you it was a packed weekend of crazy) and so my judgement is a bit...clouded.  Sure, wrap that bad boy around my wrist.  Whoop whoop, GO BULLS...Touchdown!  The place starts to fill up and Bestie and I are having a ball, laughing and reminiscing about childhood antics when more friends arrive, boys come and go, stopping to say hi and check on us to see what they can do for us, shots are being done.  I am not a drinker, by any stretch of the imagination...but when I do, I just love you.  I looooove you.  I want to tell you how great you are and I'm just lovey dovey.  I'm laughing about it right now, because I think of how I am in my regular life...which is the same, so up that by, I dunno, 10.  My flirting goes up and my staring gets more intense.  I'm a dork, I tell ya.  One guy in a cute little green bulls jersey said to me, "You are so pretty," and without hesitation I said, "Thank you, it's true." and he was stunned.  Not common response for my hometown.  One of the friends there I'd just met (but Bestie knew well) made me laugh constantly.  He was such a fun person and such a goofball and I loved that he was so much like us.  He was also friends with someone I've known for YEEEAARRSS who was supposed to come and meet us and had already called him a few times.
"Do you want to call him," M asked?
"Sure, give me your phone," I snagged his phone and went outside with it.  On the way out I tripped over my own feet and quickly turned around.  Whew, nobody saw...still look cool...awww yeah.  I call J, but he doesn't answer...hmmm, I've got M's phone...(go to contacts: add contact: xxx/xxx-xxxx enter) I handed him back the phone.  We've all now decided to go to a different bar and I'm pretty sure I have a face, but I can't feel it so well.  J, the friend we were waiting for shows up, and M says to me, "Did you put your number in my phone?"
"Ummm, maybe?" I said with a smile.  M helps me off my barstool as the rest of the gang starts to walk out of the bar.  Next thing I know, I'm pinned up against the wall, hard, my hands are up by my shoulders, and he's planted a kiss on me that made my whole body say, "YIPPEEEEEE!!!!"  I heard the entire bar roar, "WHOAA!" and I was in shock.  M, however...took his moment...and was quite pleased with himself...as he should've been.  Because I told him I don't kiss men I don't know and that led to... dinner the next night. Which was just as amazing.  That's all you'll get out of me about him, my darlings.  At least for now.  As far as my Brags, Gratefuls, and Desires:
I Brag:
I am an amazingly strong woman who stands up for myself and know my worth
I am so fun.
I have fierce friends

I Am Grateful:
for playlists on my iPhone that keep my mind busy, my voice screaming, and my hands beating on the steering wheel so I stay awake
for strapless bras that don't touch my tattoo
for delicious stolen kisses that make me blush

I Desire:
sunshine and warmer weather
to sleep through the night and sleep soundly
an uninterrupted shower alone with hot water the whole time
a love letter

my song picks for today...that's a toughy.  I'm feeling, "My Doorbell," by The White Stripes for this post.  Funny, I'm not sure why.  I'm just going to go with it.  So enjoy my lovlies and dance your hearts out.  I know I will.  I'm sending love, love, love, R

conjugal visits

This morning I'm in my bed in my new palace. Things are still a little askew, not quite in the places where I want them to be, a certain picture I have keeps falling off my wall.  But there's something about this new place that I really love.  Sure, it's smaller, less luxurious, but it is so much more ME.  Outside my window is a tree that has been blossoming these gorgeous white flowers and when I step out on my balcony, the smell is like heaven.  While I ready the kids for school, I know it's my final divorce court date.  This is it.  After today I am done.  But this isn't what I want to blog about.  I'm not ready and it's too much right now.  I think today I want to tell you about a more recent email exchange I'd had:


...nice tung .wow that bio you gave red like a bible shorten it up or go to an covent . its just a date not a prison date yearssssssssssssssss..."

Really?  Again?  Boys, didn't we go over this a gazillion times already?  This is not the way to woo your lady.  When I saw this guy's picture I needed a tetnus shot.  I figured he would know best about prison dates and just left him to his own devices.  There is really nothing I could say about this guy that you, as a reader, can't figure out already.  As I type my daughter is standing behind me stroking my hair.  Should I be worried about her reading over my shoulder?  GO TO BED!!! Ok, where was I.  Creepy guy.  Anyway, as soon as I was done erasing him, it was around Passover and Easter, I received email after email of religious based messages:

Hey Hot Jewish, I'm interested.   WTF is that supposed to mean?  Is that your best foot forward?   
How was your brisket?  I asked the guy what was he talking about and he said, "I thought brisket was like Turkey for you people."  now I'm a YOU PEOPLE that's kinda hot.
I got a lot of SHALOM's   and then finally this one came:

after reading your profile I felt that you deserve a worthy email. I hope I peak your interest as you have peaked mine.

(deep breath)

I am a pretty great guy and a hell of a catch (If I do say so myself) My name is E but my friends call me... well.....E. I work hard, play hard and love to cook. I am a romantic through and through. I am so at home in the kitchen I can cook anything from the best Blackened Chicken Fettucini Alfredo you have ever tasted which I have now tasted and it is amazing! to South American cuisine to die for. With me you will never lack a delicious and diverse meal. Although I hate to clean, but do it begrudgingly because I hate messes even more, I would gladly do it with a little help. Also there is nothing more sensual than sharing a kitchen with a special lady.
I am well traveled and would love, if we were to get on, to share places like Arlie Beach Australia, or the Witsunday Islands with you or Alligator Point FL. (no one on the beaches) or even a few out of the way places in Venezuela, Interesting story with that one was held at gunpoint for a day. Heard the story...wow The world is such a beautiful place... (have passport will travel)
I am seeking that special lady who just gets it. I want her to be a good communicator, as I hate when something is obviously wrong when people say "nothing" or "I'm fine". I need someone who believes as I do that every day in both words and in action you must let your "partner" know how you feel about them and that one should never go to bed angry.
Golf, I love to golf and I am okay at it.. However if I were any better I wouldn't get to see as much as the course.. (that's what I keep telling myself as I hoist the chainsaw out of my bag to cut down the obstacle trees) lol.
Sorry I rambled on a bit... I do hope to hear from you.

Cheers

E
There was so much more, but I cut out a lot just b/c it was personal...and mine.  I wanted to keep it for me.
My response:
E, I'm about to get my kids up and start the day when I read your email. Thank you for making a smile come back to my face.  You have perfect timing. I'd love to get to know you better. Gotta ready the rugrats. Love, Robyn

Charming, normal (seemingly enough), I looked at his profile and I can't figure out for the life of me what he does for a living.  Hmmmm, I'm deciding on how much of E to let you in on, b/c there's so much.  But it's like Pandora's box.  If I open up the lid, will all of the skeletons come flying out?  Or, fuck it, I could just Tarantino it and go from today and work backwards.  I could tell you about how we sat together at Corner Bakery in the city waiting for my meeting with my lawyer before my divorce was final.  The el trains would roar by as we sat outside fiddling with our stupid phones trying to keep ourselves from going mad Facebooking (I LOVE using that as a verb).  He says the kindest things to me.  You're beautiful.  You are just stunning. Not to appease me, but because he wants to.  He tells me the truth.  Even when it's not exactly flattering.
"I feel weird in this.  I wish I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  I feel like I'm wearing a monkey suit." Now granted, I'm wearing a black sweater, black leggings, and black high-heeled boots today.  Nothing odd, but just not really me. It's right for court. 
"You feel weird because it's normal and you don't dress normal," he said.  Thank you? I know it's true, but.  Well, whatever.  This same guy who tells me what a great guy he is and a golfer and chef is now with his arm around me in the courtroom as my soon-to-be-ex-husband is staring me in the face and I feel like I'm going to barf.  E is telling me everything is going to be ok and he's here.  I'm mourning the death of my marriage.  More than a decade of my life has gone by with a man who couldn't care less if I lived or died, and this one is telling me how lucky he is to know me.  In my recent posts I talk about driftwood and I'd said I'd keep asking for my soulmate to come.  Is it E?  I don't know, maybe.  I know what he did today.  Today he stood for me like no man has.  I am grateful.  I am also so grateful for all of you who sent texts and vm and emails today.  It meant so much.  I'm sorry if I'm a bit fragmented tonight.  I'm tired emotionally and physically and I need a break.  I'll be back full force very soon.  I promise.  much love to you all, Robyn

Song picks:
I Am Your Man by Ryan Shaw
and Hero by Chad Kroeger

 

I'm gonna love him, and hug him, and pet him, and call him...SNAP!

Within a two week period I'd said this particular phrase twice, "OMG!  You'll never guess who just walked in the bar."  Now...there are a few ways you could say it.  "OMG! (clapping)  You'll never guess who just walked in the bar. Look everybody!(jumping up and down)  Gerard Butler!" Now you know how I feel about him.  I'd be smiling and doing back flips.  NO!  Both times I said it like this, "LOOK EVERYBODY. (grabbing a pretend knife and making a stabbing motion to my heart) MY HEAD IS ON FIRE AND THERE'S NO WATER.  (pretend gun to my head and pulling the trigger)GRAB THAT BUCKET OF ALCOHOL OVER THERE.  PERFECT!"  Yes, that is exactly how I felt.  Here's how time number one went down. I only have the energy to tell you about the first one tonight.  I'll tell you about the second one another time. 

A month ago I am at a bar in the Bermuda Triangle.  No kidding.  It is in the middle of Faraway, USA.  We'd had fish fry, as every Jew should for lent, and then my friends and I'd decided instead of the usual haunt, we'd try something new and we drove to what seemed like the equator.  Now, I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I am not the best driver.  In fact, some would say possibly Ray Charles may even park better than I do.  My best friend sings the song, "What Do We Do With A Drunken Sailor," every time I park the car. Shocking, I know.  So much so that I hear it even when she's not with me.  I hum it all the time.  My kids even sing it to me now.  This fine evening I'm the designated (Bad) driver for the night.  We arrive at the bar, walk in, and stake our territory  next to the pool table and where the karaoke is supposed to be and I'm thinking, "Yay!  Different crowd.  I can relax.  I don't have to talk to anybody.  I can just people-watch.  Right on."  The karaoke guy, which, you know they call him the, "KJ?"  I didn't know this.  OK, so anyway, the KJ comes in and says, "Let's get this thing going.  Now, let me tell you about this guy for a minute...He's wearing designer man-jeans (I don't know what the fuck you call them, they're fancy pocket jeans) and a long sleeved affliction-y type waffle weave shirt, he's tall, super-duper thin, but has nice shoulders, blond, a cool patch, and he's got presence.  You know when he's in the room.  He starts to sing and I swear to all that is holy, I was like a 55 year-old woman at a Tom Jones concert.  I wanted to throw my phone number, my hotel keys, my panties, (seriously, I was at a Tom Jones concert.  They really do throw all this shit at him and he's 70 years old.) I was amazed at the soulful voice that came out of this man.  Mmm, mmm, mmm.  Where was I...alright, I wish I didn't love boys so much.  Kir and I start writing down songs we're going to sing.  She's a metal girl.  It's crazy.  I've never heard some of the songs that she sings done by the original bands, only her versions, and I don't wanna.  A lady walks by us and this is probably about the third time she's walked by when finally she says to us, "Which one of you smells so good?"  "Both of us," we chimed at the same time.  "Oh, I keep walking by because it's so good, will you let my husband smell you?.." and that's all it took.  That's as easy as it is for us all the time.  It makes me laugh.  We ended up singing with this lady at the end of the night.  She was a doll.  While I'm filling out my songs, I stopped to talk to Kir and her man.  The door opened...and in walked...COWBOY D!  Are you fucking serious?  (see post, "Are you gonna eat that?"  No, I mean it.  Stop here and go into the archives of my blog, I think it's in February) I, at first, thought this is a joke.  Really?  I stood up off the bar stool and said, "Kir, remember I told you about the guy that ate the guy that was a 'few extra pounds', "  she said, "Yeah, why?  What's wrong with you?"  I put my hand on my head and looked at the floor. "He just walked in the bar."  Kir paused for a minute and gave that casual glance around like she was looking at random stuff in the bar and when her eyes reached Cowboy D she let out an, "Oh my GOD!"  "So I wasn't overreacting then, was I?" I was looking for reassurance.  "Holy shit, no, " she blurted without hesitation.  Her man was just shaking his head.  He'd just said earlier at dinner, "If you ever date Robyn, make sure you treat her right or you will find yourself in her blog...and she's not nice."  Now, I don't know if that's true.  I'm honest.  And I write good things, too.  But my last relationship asked me not to blog about us, so I didn't.  And that would've been some good stuff, too.  OMG, so Cowboy D walks in and I'm sure he was just as shocked to see me as I was him.  I was all ready to say Hi and he walked right past me.  Really?  Really. Just say hi and get it over with.  The last time I saw Cowboy D he was hugging me like Lenny from Of Mice And Men and trying to eat my face without my permission.  The  least you can do is say hello.  And...AND he starts playing pool with the only guy I think is cute in the whole place besides the KJ.  What's a Goddess to do?  Yes, yes, yes...start singing like it's a Broadway musical...gotta problem?  Sing a song.  We're singing like fools.  The crowd is so much fun.  They sing fun, dance-y songs that are just a hoot.  Cowboy D won't even look in my direction.  The KJ, J, is yummy and delicious, he tells us he's glad we came out, it's so much fun just to be with my friends.  OK, jeez, there's gotta be a lesson in here somewhere.  I haven't figured out the reason why I would've run into Cowboy D again so far away from home, but I did meet some great new people.  I met someone who moves me with his voice and gives me goosebumps when he talks in my ear.  I watch my best friend bring an entire bar to attention when she sings, "Run To The Hills," and it makes me so proud to be with her that she's so brave.  I see her man look at her with such adoration and love.  I call them the Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man couple.  But he loves her.  My G-d, how I would love to have someone love me that way.  Someday.  It's coming.  Okie dokie, enough of the ridiculous.  My song picks for tonight's dance break: Ram Jam's, "Black Betty" and, "Independent" by Webbie.

I am Grateful for:

fish fry during lent

karaoke

waffle affliction shirts

my sanctuary, my apartment.  I'm moving, but wherever I am, it is my sanctuary.

iTunes

lip gloss with sparkles

hot, hot showers

fresh, clean sheets on my bed and a fluffy comforter

I hope this post finds you all well and I hope you can find things to be grateful for today.  Much love, R

The, "I Have Nothing To Lose," EMAIL

Men...They never cease to amaze me in how they act or react to women.  So, by my last post you can see how things did not work out between me and my last love.  I am still not over it by any stretch of the imagination, but that doesn't stop these other loopty-loos from contacting me on the dating website, and it does give me something to blog about in the interim.  Um, let's see...the latest:

"i think you should post a few pics of your ass...and damn you for cropping the pic of you waking up...you carefully cut out the boobs....please learn to tease..your 40 teasing should be law."

" Oh, f*ck, no, really?! I don't have any pics of my ass yet. My class on Tease 101 starts next Tuesday but, my darling, keep a lookout for new pictures, b/c these were great suggestions and I'll take them into careful consideration. xxoo, Sunshine"

His profile is even better:
"...I want to rub my bald head on the insides of your warm bare thighs and then get my face all wet!! I might wanna lick your ass too but i know thats a bit intense for some of you rookies out there...you know the kind who are scared to live and go thru life on the sidelines. Oh and Don't call me a pig...YOU WERE WARNED!!!...Ok ok ok enough of that stuff....did that scare you??..."

UMMM YES!!!!  That was the first paragraph.  There's about 13 more and they got worse as the story went on!  Seriously.  Again, men never cease to amaze me with what they think we will find acceptable.  I swear I just about peed myself when I read his email.  I would like to go to this man's mother and show her this profile and say, "Look what your son is doing!"  But then again, while I was on the computer last night Facebooking, (isn't it sad that is a verb now?) my 6 y/o son came up to me and goosed me.  "That is NOT appropriate!" I said.  and he just laughed and ran into the bedroom.  Yes, Child 1, Mama zip!  You know, it's a beautiful day and I should be outside.  I just had to write about this ridiculous email.  If I hear from Mr. Shakespeare again, I'll let you all know.  But I don't think he was expecting that response. 

Right after I wrote back to him another email from a suitor followed:

"what a beautiful woman! :)"

And all seemed a little better in the world.  Still miss K madly, though.
My song pick for today..."Here Comes The Sun," by Nina Simone and, "Don't Let Me Down," by The Sterophonics
I brag I have a sense of humor that gets me through rough times
I brag I have men who want to see pictures of my body parts.  hahaha
I desire to go to Miami at the end of April with my sisters and have the finances to do it
I desire to have a smooth transition into my new apartment
I am grateful for my friends who support me through my good times and bad
I am grateful for hot showers and perfumed shower gel
as always thank you for reading.  much much love to you all. xxoo, R

You never know until you try

I had one month.  One month to the DAY as a matter of fact.  Wtf, that is so fucking wrong it makes me laugh out loud.  I had one month of love.  Oh, and it was so good, so yummy, so fun and it pissed me off that I couldn't blog about all of it's goodness because I promised.  ARGH!  And now...poof!  Gone.  What a pisser, right?!  I swear this guy should've gotten a medal because anyone who knows me could tell you I was nowhere near wanting a relationship.  But the more room he gave me, the more I said, "Yes," to him.  I figured what the hell.  You gotta let go sometime and love.  So I did.  I loved with reckless abandon.  I was 100 percent myself.  I let my heart open as wide as I could for the first time, I think, ever, with the hope of something wonderful.  And I could feel my love for him and my attachment to him grow so strongly.  All my trust, it's really freeing.  In 15 years I now had a man who's sole purpose was to make me smile.  I didn't have to share him with another girlfriend/wife.  I didn't have to leave  him to crawl back into the hell-hole of my bed with the man who treated me like shit demeaning me with every breath.  He was all mine to spoil with love.  I had told him I didn't think I knew how.  I was, "broken," and that I didn't know what normal love really was.  But I think I have a better idea now.
 Adoration, compromise, agreement, friendship, bonding, sensuality, emotion, happiness, yearning, growing...too much new age-y bullshit?  Yeah, he thought so, too.  Hence one of the reasons I'm here blogging now and he's at home watching tv.  For those of you that know me well, you know I've been hit by men twice my size.  ( I think of Halloween one year when I was dressed as the Swiss Miss Cocoa Girl and I got into a fight with a guy at Flicks in Shorewood.  My big mouth got me pushed down and stomped.  I mean, come on.  I was in lederhosen and pink tights for fuck's sake! )  Anyway, I digress, my point being, I've taken a hit and I can joke about it, but this stung worse than being hit.  Not being liked for who I am when I've worked so hard on being a better person.  Or maybe it hurts because I feel like someone who tried so hard to get me, didn't know what to do with me once he had me.  Driftwood.  I have to try to look at it as driftwood.  He's one step closer to what I've been waiting for.  "Maybe you won't have to wait your whole life," he said to me on the first night we were together as he held me and my head rested on his chest.  I listened to his heart beating and I was able to rest in his arms.  I'm so sad.  I didn't want him to go.  I believed in love.  I'm so naive.  
Tonight's song pick, my lovelies, is, "Fix You," by Coldplay

I brag I am capable of loving
I brag I am an amazing friend and girlfriend
I am grateful for the month that I had
I am grateful for my friends who love me for who I am how I am
I desire my life to continue on a path of discovery
I desire more.  More love, more laughter, more light

As always, I am so grateful for you to take time to read this.  I hope this post finds you well and loved. xxoo

Cowboy D, uh, you gonna eat that?

When I received D's emails, they were sweet, non-threatening, and so complimentary...which as you know, wins me over.  Say something nice to me and I'm like butter.  "Your smile made me want to start writing songs again."  I'll take that over, "Nice tits!" any day.  I've had a hard time putting down in words the experience with Cowboy D because it just seems so ridiculous.  I feel like a fool and a bitch at the same time.  But I can't write about it without saying the good and the bad.  (big breath) So, D and I had a great friend connection right away.  He reminded me of my dad in a certain corny-jokester kinda way.  Which is fine, because my father is an amazing man.  Some even joke and call him St. M.  Anyway, D and I started with emails that progressed to text messages, then to phone calls.  He is ex-military (another huge point with me) and an incredible singer. (DING DING DING)  D had sent me a link to him singing various songs that I'd never heard before (I am such a country-misfit) and a you-tube video of him singing.  He's described himself in his profile as a few extra pounds, he has dark, longer hair, and he's tall.  In his pictures he's wearing a cowboy hat, or a bandanna on his head.  He's an average guy, but so nice.  We talk for a few weeks.  Throughout the few weeks we discuss the shit storms of our marriages, but we don't complain, which I liked about him.  Things were bad in both of our marriages, but he, like I, moved through it, or moves through it with the best attitude  we can knowing there's love out there.  He sends me messages singing me songs.  They're beautiful.  The songs make me stop in my tracks.  Just knowing somebody took time out of his day to do that for me is so sweet. Sweet sweet sweet.  This word keeps coming in my mind and out of my fingers.  But there's something missing.  There's sweetness, tenderness in his voice, "You are a beautiful woman and I simply can't imagine from what little I know of you, why any man wouldn't find it hard to leave work early just to spend time with you..."  I feel nothing.  I feel thankful for such sentiment, but nothing stirring me.  Maybe it's just because I have nothing tangible yet.  No warm body to go with the words. 
About three and a half weeks go by and I get a phone call at 7am...
"Hello," I grumble
"Hey there, Sunshine, whatcha doin'?"
"Sleeping.  I don't have to work until 12 so I'm...I'm sleeping."
"Hahaha, well..."  blah blah blah, I'm half-asleep and I think he's asking me how I'm feeling or if the sky is blue, I don't really fucking know because I was SLEEPING.  "...so whatcha doin'?" he asks again.
"Sleeping.  Still sleeping.  In bed.  Sleepity sleep sleeping." 
"Well, I can be there in 10 minutes."
RECORD SCREEEEECH
"What?" I sat straight up in bed.  He lives about 40 minutes away from me.  So he planned this. 
"Yeah, I know you live by Starbucks.  Why don't you meet me in 10 minutes."
At this point I should have said no.  My best friend still yells at me telling me she would've told him to go fuck himself if he would've woken her up and then said come meet me for the first time in ten minutes.  But not me.  I'm curious, and low-maintenance.  I can be ready for anything in 20 minutes. 
"You have to let me shower, D.  This was unexpected."  I pull myself from the bed and start to stumble towards the bathroom.  "And you're going to get me in my workout clothes because I'll have to leave for the studio." I stick a toothbrush in my mouth.
"Fine with me.  I just want to meet you in person.  It's time." 
I jump in and out of the shower, blow-dry my wig, throw my clothes on, run down the back stairwell to the exit to Starbucks, fling open the door FLING!  I hear meep meep and see flashing lights of a car.  I stand there watching a car door open (creeeeaaakkk) and a man gets out of the car that is supposed to be D, the man that is, "a few extra pounds," but instead he looks like he very well possibly ATE the man that was, "a few extra pounds."  I quickly think to myself, "I could run."  But then my brain slaps me in the face and says, "STOP BEING SUCH A BITCH!  You've been talking to this sweet man for weeks and what's been lacking may finally be here.  Give him a chance." (and besides, he saw you and you're the only one in this Starbucks with pink hair...he knows it's you)  He walks up to me and grabs me in a bear hug and I actually hear my back crack like an adjustment at the chiropractor's office, "D, you gotta be careful with me.  I'm a delicate flower and I have to work today, " I tell him.  He tells me I'm even more beautiful in person than I am in my pictures.  Now, I describe myself as a few extra pounds because I would like to lose 10 or 15 pounds more.  But that's the difference between men and women.  With men, you could sit Brad Pitt next to Norm from Cheers at a bar and they'll be HI-5 ing each other being the best of friends and not thinking anything of it.  Meanwhile, you have Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie, or better yet...sit Angelina next to a fucking mirror and she'll be scratching her own eyes out.  And they are clearly GORGEOUS  women but that's what women do.  Such a shame.  Ah, Thank Goddess for Mama Gena and the School of Womanly Arts.  Alas, I digress.  Ok, back to Cowboy D.  He buys coffee for us and we sit down to talk.  I'm looking at him and he looks nothing like his pictures.  He's at least 50 pounds heavier than the pictures and in those he was heavy.  His hair isn't dark, it's kinda blonde with about an inch of grey roots like he dyes it, but his beard is dark and his eyebrows are almost non-existent and his hair is almost as long as mine and Jesus-like.  And all he can do is look at me and tell me how pretty I am, but when he's telling me, his lips are shaking over his teeth...(sigh) I have to take a minute.  Ok, so then he says to me, "I wish I'd known you had to work today.  I was going to say let's get into my car and just drive."  Yes, I've got a great secluded place where nobody will hear you scream....under the stairs...Oh my sweet heaven.
"Well, you didn't tell me you were coming."  I replied with a smile, "It was so nice of you to buy me coffee this morning, but I have to get on my way to work."  I get up and try to make a dash for the door.
"Oh, I'll walk you to your door." FUCK
He walks me to the doorway to the stairwell to my building and I know what's coming.  I quickly turn my head while he hugs me again like Lenny from Of Mice And Men but now D grabs my face and says, "Nooo," in this upspeak no like he's trying to force me to kiss him.  So I, in turn say, "NOoooo," in the same upspeak. And this guy says to me, "Why not?" 
"Because, D, I said no.  Because you think you bought me a cup of coffee that gives you a right to kiss me when I don't want you to?  Because all the conversations we've had about the lack of control I had over my body in my marriage, I am saying, 'no,' and that will have to do.  I have a chance to do things right now and that's how it's going to be."
"You're right.  I'm sorry."  He hugs me and that motherfucker kisses me anyway.  I was so mad I could've spit nails.  I mumbled something like, "See you later." and I dashed up my stairs making sure the door closed behind me without him.  Later at my studio I was still fuming about it and my manager called it, "Mouth Rape."  That at least made me laugh. 
A few hours later I received a voice message from him.  He'd said he wasn't looking for someone all agoogoo over him, but with me he'd felt something and I'd touched something so profound in him.  He'd wanted to see where the connection was coming from.  He wasn't trying to cheapen me...blah blah blah. " I wonder if she kisses as well as she wants her guys to kiss."  I wanted to vomit.  I called him.  Five minutes of pleasantries and small talk go by and finally I said,
"So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?"
"Well, I was hoping we could just forget it."
"That's not how I roll, D.  If we don't have any communication, we have nothing.  I have to be honest with you and tell you what you did today was really fucked up.  You can't treat me like that.  I don't feel any man/woman chemistry with you.  I think you are a nice guy, but I don't feel like we could have that type of a relationship."
"I'm sorry you feel that way.  If you ever change your mind, you've got my number."
POOF!  Conversation over.  (Exhale)
The next day he'd erased all of our conversations and BLOCKED ME so I'm not really sure what ever happened to him.  I also took a break from Internet dating.  I need a nap...or a shot of Jack Daniels.
This made me grateful for my ability to use my voice to stand in my impenetrable spot.  I am so much stronger than what I used to be.  I'm a lot more fun, too, but I am grateful for being able to say what I want and don't want.  I am grateful for D's kind words, and his song choices.  He gave me some good songs I didn't know about before.  I wish you all so much love and joy as the snow melts.  I can feel spring coming, can you?  My life is really good.  This whole experience wasn't horrible.  It was comical.  It was perfect timing for where I am now.  I'm holding my hands out for more.  xxoo, R
 The song I chose for this entry is, "What's Your Fantasy," by Ludacris and C. Shawna   and, "Like Red On A Rose," by Alan Jackson