"Love My Way, It's a New Road"

Archive for November, 2017

Dear Hunter

My Love,
Technology can be cruel and I apologize. I had no idea that my blog pops on your tablet whenever a post goes up. You have had a front row seat of my innermost thoughts for many, many months.

As we had discussed at the beginning of our relationship and during this two counseling sessions, my blog is how I process. It’s my inner mental journey, so you have seen my secrets while I have not seen your innermost thoughts.

I know I have caused you hurt and I am deeply sorry. You are a kind, wonderful man who treats me only with respect and kindness. It breaks my heart to see you angry and hurt because of me. I don’t have answers.

Do I ask you to radically comprise to fit what I want? Is that fair? We both agree that we aren’t staying in this house when the lease is up, but what’s next? What about the Kracken? I believe we have an obligation to him. We got him, he stays. I will just have to suck it up.

Now you just left having told me that in your mind we are officially over. I’m heartbroken. You are in so much pain because of me and I am so very sorry. I do love you. You have brought joy to me and I am causing you pain.


I”ve Been Thinking

How much do you compromise or give up for a relationship? That’s my current question rumbling thru my head.  After Thanksgiving, I started thinking about my relationship with the Hunter.  The pros and cons.

Pros: companionship, great sex, a man who cares and takes care of me

Cons: I’m not living where and how I want.  I mean, I’m in the house in the ‘burbs instead of a more urban townhouse in a walkable neighborhood.  I have an 80 pound dog who is ravishing my already destroyed patio furniture as I write. I have a man that I have little in common with.  He talks of hunting, guns, vehicles. I talk of articles I read, podcasts on various topics. Our mutual topics: work, the dogs, mundane day-to-day stuff.

When he was gone on an 8 day hunting trip, I fell into a pleasant routine and didn’t find myself yearning for his return.  Actually I was a little  regretful because he creates more mess for me to clean up. That was noteworthy.

Can I truly stand living alone? I was doing it before the Hunter came into my life and I had my highs and lows with it.  What would happen to him? He is financially dependent upon me.  

We aren’t on the same page about vacation ideas, his work goals, where to live, our politics, how to spend the holidays, and other assorted tropics. I like art festivals, museums, farmers markets, brunch.  He likes the woods, rednecks and hunting. I am a cat person, he isnt. Some days I feel like I have a Roommate.  

I have come to realise I’m not an easy person to live with.  I snore, I can be moody – particularly when anxious about work. I need solitude both with work and off time to read, think, write. 

You also have the Dan Savage premise that nobody is “The One” — you just take the person who is .758 and round the fuck up.  He has a point.

The Hunter knows I’m not happy with him right now.  I spent a long day with my kids, their in-laws, my Ex and his GF (very nice lady — we just said hello and then stayed at opposite ends of the crowd).  I enjoyed the day but I could see where it would have been a long, drawn out strain for him. Perhaps it was better that he didn’t join us because it enabled me to determine what I wanted to do. 

But that also leads to the question of “do I want a man who would be fine with such an event?” What would I be compromising in other relationship areas?

I don’t want to make a hasty decision.  My lease is up in May and as my BFF said — that would be the time.  Is it time? I’ve been with him 3 years. I don’t see him as the man for the rest of my days, or do I?

Post Turkey thoughts

Thanksgiving was interesting.  The Hunter went into a full scale anxiety  attack that made us an hour late to Taz’s hotel and ended the day with a “no more holidays ever” declaration.  It was a big test of my patience & understanding.

Today is a big outdoor hang-out day with Taz,  her inlaws, probably my Ex and his GF but the Hunter has flat out stated he isnt going.  He wants to head to the woods with the Kracken.

Let’s back up and run thru the day quickly.  I had made my desserts the night before.  I sensed he wasn’t in a good place when he didn’t pop out to get me aluminum foil last minute.  He usually is great about that.  Instead he took a shower & fell asleep on the couch. It wasn’t a big deal and I took care of the 15 minute errand. This was just a “hmmm” monent.

When we woke up on TDay, he told me he was full of aniexty.  I hugged him, reassured him that we could skip his sister’s if it was too much.  He had run out of pot, so he scampered out to pick up a platter for Taz’s gathering and some pot.  This made us late.  He called me when we should be packing the car and he was still 45 minutes away and he still needed a shower.

He was trying to create drama. “Go without me so you aren’t so late, I”ll drive separately.”  Nope, our festivities were 45 minute drive.  I hugged him tight, told him I would wait and we finally left together.  I texted Taz explaining his panic attack.

The day was great.  Everyone was warm, loving and fun — at both Taz’s and his sister. I drank a little, smoked a little and was loose and relaxed.  My head was in a happy place. He choose to see his demons. He refused to participate in his sister’s tradition of everyone briefly giving thanks for the good in their lives.  He left the room..and me.

Our drive home was mostly silent.  Barely any chatter of the who, what, where of a 10-hour day. Even now on the morning after I sit alone.

I got home and climbed into bed almost immediately.  He smoked a little more, came to bed, woke me up to fuck me good.  It was lovely but it didn’t put aside the doubts that are forming in my mind.  Is the season of the Hunter approaching its end?

Fun Read: NY Times on Sex Toy Manufacturer 

For the First Family of Pleasure Products, Toys Are Us.   The uptight Trumpsters can rest assured their butt plug  was Made in America   https://nyti.ms/2jCQiHj

One Reason I’m Pissed Off

OK, I finally figured out one reason I have been in a pissy mood lately.  The holidays.  I still haven’t figured out how to enjoy the holidays post-divorce.  Thanksgiving is of a particular sore spot for me.

During my marriage, I was the go-to hostess for Thanksgiving. I’ve written about this before.  Every year we would host anywhere from 18 to 24 people.  I would take off the week in order to properly prepare for the day.  I loved it.  I make an amazing turkey — my Ex even said as much to my daughter recently. Everyone had a fabulous time, but it was a lot of work.  A lot because my Ex did little to help.  He cleaned the patio and asked copious questions — so damn needy.  The most help I got was from my housekeeper who I always had come clean the day before.  Post clean-up was all me.  Set up — all me.  Cooking:  75% me.  It was my day and yes, it was my day by choice.  I loved being the “hostess with the mostess” and when we sat outside at the beautiful tables I arranged, I felt happy.  Frazzled, but happy to have everyone around.

Guests were my Ex’s family (he is one of 4 kids) so that made up the bulk of the guests.  Then we had family friends round out the balance.  Everyone was really bummed when we announced our separation.  One family friend mourned the loss of Thanksgiving immediately.  She told me, “the first thing my girls said was ‘oh no, Thanksgiving!'”.

Fast forward to today, four years later.  Not once have I received an invitation to Thanksgiving by any of the folks I hosted over the past 25 years.  Not one.  OK, OK, yes, it’s a lot of Ex family, but what about the friends?  What the fuck was I doing for these people all these years?  I don’t even get a “Happy Thanksgiving” from any of them.  I don’t get acknowledged, contacted, na da.  It makes me angry.

It makes me angry because somehow I feel like after all those years of hosting, I am entitled to something better than what I have.  I feel like I’m entitled to at least the societal nicety of a Thanksgiving message/touch from these folks.

The first years of my freedom I would go to a swanky dinner with my girlfriend.  It was nice and I enjoyed getting dressed up for an elegant evening.  It wasn’t exactly what I was seeking, but it was nice.

The first year the Hunter and I were together, I invited friends and our sons for Thanksgiving.  I wrote about it and it was nice.   The Hunter was concerned about how much work it was for me. As I re-read my post about it, I am realizing how much I really did enjoy it.  It was about 8 people and that might be the right size.

Last year the Hunter and I went camping, just the two of us.  It was nice, but I missed the turkey, the family togetherness and all the other warm, fuzzy things that Thanksgiving brings.  We sat and watched large groups celebrating the holiday over the course of the weekend.  I felt left out quite honestly.

This year is a bit different.  Taz and her hubby will be down on vacation for the entire week.  I wanted all of us (my son included) to go out for an early lunch, but Taz’s in-laws are flying in on Thanksgiving Day so that’s too complicated/stressful for all of us.  Instead we will hang out at their beachfront Airbnb and eat stone crabs and drink champagne.  Then we will part ways for Round 2 in the evening.  Taz will join her dad and his family while the Hunter and I will join his family.  This is the first time the Hunter has spent Thanksgiving with his sister’s clan in about 3-4 years.  It will be interesting, but I’m looking forward to sharing the holiday with a family crowd.

The holidays are tough for me.  I don’t want to make demands on my kids.  My mom did that to me and it sucked.  On the same token, I also don’t want to be the patsy or somehow overlooked.  Part of me wants to get on a cruise ship for Christmas (this is a recurring destination choice for some reason) so I can just forget about it.  Even that will cause me angst because being far away from everyone has proven not to be the solution anyway.

When I first separated from my Ex, my therapist pushed me to think about the holidays and what I wanted.  Fast forward four years and I am still trying to figure out what I want.  Now that Taz is married, she and her hubby have a rotation of holidays figured out.  Very fair, very smart, very much their choice.

Last year the Hunter and I spent Christmas with my parents.  My dad was pretty much an absentee dad once my parents got divorced.  As Taz and I have discussed, he isn’t much of a father or grandfather to kids, but he’s fine once we grow up.  Anyway, I hadn’t spent a Christmas with my dad since perhaps college.  It was weird and we don’t want to do it again.

This Christmas we will probably stay put.  I don’t particularly like trips over the holidays — too many other people are traveling, it’s expensive.  Bah humbug.  The only problem is that the Hunter has a yearning to see snow.  He hasn’t seen snow.  Not snow in serious quantities.  Funny, right?  A 50-year-old American that hasn’t seen real snow.

I need to put some thought into what makes me happy during the holidays.  I think it’s a recipe that includes:

  • Family and close friends
  • Good food
  • Relaxing fun

Perhaps now that I know the holidays continue to be a source of angst to me, I can recognize it and practice some forgiveness as well as some thankfulness.  Geez, when will I ever let this crap go?


I’m Making Changes 

For some reason, it seems like when I am truly ready to make some serious changes in my work life, I first have to change my environment.  This week I am taking a mini-break from my business development and work in general to completely renovate my home office.

I decided to tackle it when I got a pleasant sense of peace and accomplishment from cleaning my house.  For those of you who have read my rants about my dislike of housework, please don’t fall off your chairs. When I finished cleaning up the house, my mind felt rested.  It was an “ah ha” moment, and I realized I needed to channel that into my office.

I run my company out of the house.  Please don’t tell Crazy Lady because she has no clue what I do or that the HQ of Maggie & Co. is right next door. Anyway, it’s important to me to have a comfortable and organized office because it keeps my head clear.  I like a little mess but too much clutter weighs me down.

The first thing I did was to pull out all the paper clutter. All mail was opened and filed.  I shredded stuff until my shredder begged for mercy.  I filled my recycling bin. I put away a pile of stuff best described as “Doesn’t Belong in My Office”. I made piles of stuff that would stay according to various categories.  I have a bin of business journals by the TV to read. All that took the better part of a day.  My reward: an Ikea run last night and then a really fun hour measuring everything and laying it out on paper.

Today was one of brute strength.  I hauled in the heaviest Ikea bookcase of all time.  Then I built that damn Ikea shelving unit, rearranged all the furniture and now it’s time to put everything back in.  I have to go get a couple of things tonight (surge protectors and some lighting), but it’s all coming together nicely if I do say so myself.   The Hunter is quietly relieved to be missing it all.  

I’ve been doing all this between networking lunches and phone calls.  It feels great and I’m excited to get it all organized according to the vision in my head.  It’s a good feeling and I really needed the boost. Now I’m off to Target!

The Hunter is a better person than me

For context, you need to understand the Crazy Lady (CL) who lives next door to us and the recent neighborhood drama by reading the previous post.   Things have settled down into a quiet truce.  We don’t acknowledge them and they don’t acknowledge us — stepson is the exception for all.  We like him.  He’s a good kid.

Last week, I noticed some increased activity at CL’s house.  Several pickup trucks there and I hear the sounds of power tools.  What the heck are they doing?  It’s been going on all week and I realized that they are doing a renovation in their house…. very covertly.


I want the Hunter to call his new best friend, the Code Enforcement Officer.  Yes, the aftermath of the crazy neighbor evening resulted in the Hunter having to get an occupational license for his home business, the landlady having to register her house as a rental and address some landscaping issues.  Total bill between all of us:  $500 or so.  The Hunter played this well and made nice with Code Enforcement.  He befriended the guy and schmoozed him.  He said he learned that tactic to me, but he is masterful.

But I’m pissed and I want to even the score because that was a shitty thing CL did.


On Halloween, we heard her screaming at her stepson that she is going to kill him because he apparently didn’t clean the cat litter boxes.  Yeah, probably because he was busy mowing the grass and all the other yard work.  According to our landlady, she allegedly has 7-8 cats (violation of city ordinances which only allow 3 pets per household) and she has 2 dogs.  I can rant on and on about how the Dad is a shitty dad for not telling CL to shut her mouth and not talk to his son that way, but I digress.  Let’s return to the construction project.

I really, really, really want the Hunter to call his buddy in Code Enforcement to suggest that he take a ride through the neighborhood.  He won’t do it.  The Hunter says that he is not that kind of neighbor.  He is not the kind of neighbor that rats out others no matter what they have done to him.  Dammit.  The man has integrity.  Dammit.  I want revenge.  I want her to go through some of the bullshit that we have gone through.  Nope.  It’s not going to happen.

The Hunter is out of town for the next week.  He is deep in the woods hunting, so I am left to see the construction debris being removed under the cover of early morning darkness alone.  Today I saw the new kitchen cabinets in their open garage.  I hear the hammers.  I see the trades come and go.  ARGGGGGHHHH — I have to be a better person like the Hunter and hold my tongue.  I don’t want to, but I know it’s the right thing to do.  Dammit.  Integrity.  Nobody said it was easy….  My only hope


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