On the Passing of my 40th Birthday.

Turning 40 really hits some mixed messages for me. I'm not in my 30s anymore. My biological clock has become so loudly deafening... I feel old in some ways, feeling like I'm over the hill, and that I'm really no longer going to be desirable. I still have a hard time treating myself with the love I try to show to others. In fighting that, I decided to try to set up some wishlists on Amazon, Crate and Barrel, Pottery Barn, Ten Thousand Villages, Gaiam... I really want to surround myself with beauty, with lovely, eclectic things. To be healthy, happy, and really have lovely things surrounding me in this next decade.

And for this next decade, I REALLY want to make a difference. I may end up adopting or fostering children, since it is very unlikely that I will have one on my own. I wish I had the courage to, but I don't. I think that has been my biggest regret. I have so much I could share with a kid, I would have loved to be a mother, but its just not in the cards.

I refuse to turn into the typical (if there is such a thing!) single, middle-aged, Farmington, lady. I will always try to be true to myself, to grow, to create art, beauty, and love. To support wonderful people and wonderful places...

But in some ways, turning 40 sucks. Because, in my heart, I am still 20. And I always will be....

The problem with living alone....

For me, at any rate, is piles. I fling things, so I have piles of clean laundry, piles of dirty laundry, piles of dishes, piles of books, piles of papers...piles, piles, piles, everywhere. (*whispering*) I even have a pile of bras

I also have a bad habit with my coffeecups, learned from my parents. I leave them, usually half full of tepid coffee or tea, around the house.

This does not bode well for my old age. I have a horrible feeling that in 30 years I'll be buried behind a towering pile of books, nested in a pile of bedding....

At least I will not have a pile of cats. :)

My mother and my aunt both claim they were like me and neatened up as they got older. I suspect it was having kids that did it. You don't have to clean up until you have a small person around.

I also suspect that, should I have kids at this late date, they will have very healthy immune systems.

I am, however, tired of sleeping with a pile of books!

Raindrops on roses....

Bright copper kettles, brown paper packages tied up with string....here are some links to my favorite things:

Wonderful soap (I love the Wild Honeysuckle, the pumpkin pie is amazing, too)

Sparkly! I love the sparkle, the sparkly! So pretty! Love the 'paris chandeliers', and the birdcages. Some gorgeous eco-friendly stuff...

Vintage This is where I found the red hat, in Pittsfield, MA. Just gorgeous hats, jewels, accessories... mmmmmm

organic clothes I love their styles...flowy, comfy....

Fair Trade Most of my jewelry is now coming from here. Just gorgeous, gorgeous pieces.... and big enough and sparkly enough to satisfy my inner (and outer) diva.

I still need to put in cooking things, books, and specific links to things. Gardening stuff...my problem is that I don't keep track of this stuff when I come across it. So I am seduced by the pretty, but then never find it again....

The joys and frustrations of dating...

So, I'm somewhat upset. I thought I'd met someone. It was on a dating site, and he wrote me this absolutely beautiful, amazing letter as an introduction, full of humor, intelligence, wit. We went out, and I thought there was a spark. We went out for a lunch date, and talked, and I thought it went well, but in retrospect... and then last night, the third date I got the line that I've been getting my whole life. "I like you, but as a friend".

FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

And yes, that will probably be enough to get this blog sent to 'adult content' land.

I just wish it wasn't so hard to meet straight, intelligent, classy, good, moral men. I haven't been with anyone since the ex. Its been 7 years. I miss being held. I miss human contact. I'm starting to feel like I have powerful pheromones that repel men.

Maybe its my weight. Maybe there is something repellent about my personality. I don't know. Am I just the 'fat chick' friend?

Don't get me wrong, I'm ok on my own. I really am. But I want a rock, a lover, a friend. Someone to hold me. Someone to vent to. Someone to come over and play scrabble with.

I'm not looking for marriage. But I'm looking for my soulmate. So please, God, help me. I don't know what to do.

I know, I know....

I complain and grimace and mutter about my favorite blogs not being updated, or vanishing into the ether. Then I don't update my own. Tsk tsk tsk. And I have so many things I was inspired to try writing blog posts about, I've got a lot in the 'rough drafts' section. I could write about trying to find community service things for my ccd class to do. I thought about reverse trick or treating, but they are a little young for that... I could write about dating, trying to find true love... but I'm figuring that out and don't want to scare the nice man away! I could write about how the status of women in this day and age is still not so far away from the past... Men don't rhapsodize over knitting or jam making... men whack meat and make sausages! (ok, that came out a little more sexual than I intended). I could write about the climate of anger, and how much it has invaded our society...we have a problem with bullying and mean things, but look at the atmosphere out there. Almost every ad I see with people in it is MEAN. I cringe every time I see that phone ad with the breakup. We hear about the anger, the nastiness, the ick. I wish we could have a political campaign where, for every nasty thing someone says, they have to counter with something nice.
I could talk about obesity in this country. I could talk about racism, sexism. I could talk about isolation. But right now, my words fail me. So much to talk about...

(My next post I might talk about what I want for my birthday, though!)

Posting Pink...

October is the month of Pink. Of Breast Cancer. And yes, its prevalent in my family. My mother's mother had it, my mother had it, and my aunt had it. The nanny who raised me and my sister died from it (not related by blood, but by heart). In many ways, I'm at risk, never having had children, having been (and still am) overweight. I do do some things right to prevent cancer. I eat organic. I minimize plastic. I watch what I use on my body, on my skin. The skin is the largest organ of the body....

It was hard, watching my mother going through so much surgery, going through the chemo. It was an odd turnaround for us, because she watched me go through surgery when I was small... it was hard for her, because she's never been really sick, while I have had the mixed blessing of a chronic disease (the endometriosis).

If I think about this too much, I get scared. Really scared. I wish there was more I could do to be an activist on keeping out environment safe, on minimizing our daughters exposures to toxic chemicals, to plasticizers, to carcinogens in our fruits and veggies and our food. I wish I could eat nothing but organic...

Mea Culpa...

Yes, I know, I'm a bad, bad, bad blogger. It should get better as the weather gets colder...

So, I'm trying to figure out Thanksgiving this year. Yes, I know its early, but I want to buy an organic, local bird. And to do that, I have to order it now. But sitting in solitary splendor with a T-day feast isn't a great idea either....

Any suggestions?

In other news, my life is a mixed bag. Work is still this frustration level of not feeling respected, and not being able to move forward or get more hours, even. I haven't gotten anywhere in theater stuff either. I'm amazed, though, at what a difference three years of voice lessons has made in my voice, in my singing. Even though I'm on hiatus from voice lessons for the moment.. I'm still doing ceramics, and with my house? One step forward, three steps back.