Night of the Living Ex-Girlfriend

Ever notice things happen in threes? There is an old southern saying that deaths come in threes. Creepy, but sometimes I have noticed it's true.

So for me, exes come in threes. I mentioned last week that I heard from my ex C from BR which was totally random and out of the blue. I was hoping she would respond to my letter back but maybe her job is done.

On Sunday I was walking in my neighborhood and ran into my ex wife who was having a moving sale. Now since she lives two streets away from me it would not seem like a very unusual thing, but since it has been probably a year or more since I have seen or spoken to her it was a bit out of the ordinary. Especially when she gave me her wedding ring to add to mine when she heard I was selling mine on ebay.

Ex number three came by tonight to pick up a drawing I am giving back to her. She gave it to me years ago when we were dating as a Christmas/Birthday gift. My grrl and I decided maybe it was time to remove the naked portrait of M that loomed over our heads in the living room.

So if this was A Christmas Carol I'm guessing Ex-Wife would be the Ghost of Christmas Past, M would be the Ghost of Christmas "Presents" and the only thing that doesn't fit is C from BR as the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Well, since I never spent a Christmas with her, I guess in a cockeyed way that could work too.

God Bless Them, Every One.

Is this month freaking over yet?

Someone said all this upheaval is the result of "Mercury in Retrograde" which is supposed to end Nov. 2nd. For my tastes it could not get here soon enough. This month has been intense!

Today the much rumored layoffs hit my department. Five people from my department have been let go. I've heard the number was nine but I haven't heard who the others were.

Yesterday I got an "amends" letter from an ex lover. That was random. I hadn't spoken to her since January except for running into her at Michfest, which was really uncomfortable. She was angry with me for (from what I can best guess) dating someone two months after she and I broke up. It was weird but I figured- people have their own reasons for doing things and I'm ok with not questioning that. Anyway, I was happy to get the letter since I felt like things had ended so badly with us. Not the romantic relationship, but the friendship I tried to have afterward. Because of the way it ended it was kind of like a book or movie in which you never get to find out the ending. Now I feel a sense of completion. I like that. And I wish her all the best.

There are many more entries in my 'crazytown' post but I gotta get outta here and have a drink. It's been a day.

My entry for 'choose your own caption' contest...

Fun on Cap Metro

So I took the city bus downtown yesterday on my way to a geeky high-tech conference. I am excited at the prospect of taking the bus anywhere and jump at the chance to have it convey me to exotic locales like the Austin Convention Center or the county courthouse for jury duty. I think the bus confirms I am officially a city-dweller. Like the existance of stores in walking distance and the ice cream trucks that drive by my house.

So, I get on the bus and settle into an available seat and about 5 seconds later someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around to face an elderly black woman who says:

"You are a man, right?"

I blush a little and grin. "No ma'am, I'm not."

She flusters a little and sputters something like, "I'm so sorry, I really thought you was a fellow... You see, that's why I wanted to talk to you, cuz you looked so good."

She said the word good like a New Orleans native describing an excellent pot of gumbo.

I gave her my most charming grin and replied: "It's ok. Thank you for the compliment."

Funny that something that probably embarrassed this nice lady was a nice boost to my ego.

I used to be mistaken for a man-- well more accurately, a boy- quite often. I don't get it as much anymore but obviously it does still happen. I still get it sometimes when I venture out of metropolitan areas. Rural gas stations and such. When it happens I have a big impulse to allow them to save face. If someone calls me 'sir' I tend to drop my voice an octave and hunch a bit so they don't notice my pretty-obviously-female chest. Usually I am successful, proving that if someone sees something one way and puts it into a space in their heads, it takes a lot of effort to change that picture. I try not to do that to strangers. It's dangerous to shift paradigms without a clutch.

Too Cute... can't resist...

So I have noticed over time that little G likes to do things that I do. If I plant a tree, he wants to help. If I shovel rocks in the driveway, he's right there also. Water the garden? You bet! Last weekend I bought him a little tiny rake and shovel so he can help. Then I saw the ingredients for what you see above. A full-on tiny carpenter/construction outfit with real working tools and safety equipment. Ah, the joys of addicting the next generation...

Monday

Get Me
Everything But The Girl

I never thought I'd grow up so fast so far.
To know yourself is to let yourself be loved.
And I want to be addicted, I want to be secure,
I want to wake up after the night before,
but do you ever get me?
Do you ever get me?

I'll press your hand against my face, weaken my resistance.
I'll pull the sheets over our heads, let the broken sky break above our heads.
And I want to be addicted, I want to be secure,
I want to wake up after the night before,
but do you get me?
Do you ever get me?

Shower me with affection and I'll return in kind.
I have no hidden motive, I am blind.
I'm a stone inside a box,
I'm a spring inside a clock,
you can wear me on your wrist and I'll tell you things ten thousand times,
but do you ever get me?
Do you ever get me?