My Mother is an Extrovert

How do you deal with an extrovert when you are an introvert feeling drained of everything and yet still being given lists of more stuff to do as if you are a bottomless well unable to run dry?

I’m an introvert. The bus is one of my favourite things to do because you can be out of the house and lose yourself completely for an hour without having to do anything at all. No matter what the bus will go along and eventually take you back to where you started from.

Young Cock Versus Old Stud

Originally posted to Sex Kitten (2003 – 2004)

Better an old man’s darling or a young man’s slave?

I can understand how age difference works for some couples. One partner is established, mature while the other likes having someone to depend on, mentor them. One partner feels buoyed up by the youth and enthusiasm of the other. There are various scenarios, as many as there are people.

I don’t think a big age difference is for me. I’d like to have more in common for one thing. Life experiences, stage of life, thoughts, ideas, habits, taste in music, all are important things. I don’t want a younger man who I’d feel I’d have to keep up with or an older man who I’d feel I couldn’t catch up to.

Although I’d like some aspects of being with an older man, having that security, maturity and understanding from someone who has been there. There is emotional and financial stability which I have not had in my life so far. Still, I’d rather have a balance – an even playing field where we both want the same things at the same time.

I don’t want to rely too heavily or get to the point where I depend on someone to be there. That makes me less than I can be and takes away from some of the strength and independence I have developed for myself. Also, it puts a heavy load on the other person and no matter what someone may say at the time, no one really wants to be responsible for the happiness of another. We do not want to micro-manage another human being. We do not want to be leaned on too much. So, no one should look for someone in their life just to have someone they can lean on. There should be a lot more to create a couple, a relationship that will build and become something both partners can get something out of .

As for the younger guys, I am the oldest of four kids. I don’t really see myself taking another younger ‘brother’ seriously as a partner in life. Yes, I can listen to their ideas, consider them as adults, but I can’t see them as my equal, not really. It’s not that I am looking down on them, it’s just their date of birth. When someone says they were born in the 80’s I remember what I was doing then. I had quit high school and was working full time, keeping up my share of the rent on an apartment. Meanwhile, someone was changing their diaper. How can you really see that as a person you would take into the bedroom and make mad passionate love to? It makes me feel like a cradle robber or some old perverted woman.

When I turn it around and wonder what a younger man would look for in an older woman I think most are looking for someone to give them a security and mothering base or feeling. I don’t want to be that woman for the man I love. I don’t want to be a second mother or a cash cow. I want him to be madly in lust with me and laugh at all my jokes and want to spend time with me, until death. An older guy is likely thinking he will have more sex. Yet, the men I’ve met (mostly older) haven’t wanted sex as often as I have myself. So, I don’t see it working out, either way. On one side I am a second mother and the other I am a sex toy. Neither is allowing me to be a woman or giving me that companionship I am looking for with another human being.

Mainly, its about the stage of life I’m at. I don’t want to skip ahead to retirement or backtrack to beginning to find my place in the world. I want some one to share life with – where I’m at now.

I Wish you Enough

My Mother posted this to my nephew on Facebook (she reposted from who knows who or where):

Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the daughter’s departure had been announced. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said: “I love you and I wish you enough.”

The daughter replied, “Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom.” They kissed and the daughter left.

The mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?”

“Yes, I have,” I replied. “Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?”

“I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral,” she said.

When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, “I wish you enough.” May I ask what that means?”

She began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. “When we said ‘I wish you enough’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them”.

Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory, “I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.” She then began to cry and walked away.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person. An hour to appreciate them. A day to love them. And an entire life to forget them.

How Did the Human Race Appear?

A little girl asked her mother, “How did the human race appear?”

The mother answered, “God made Adam and Eve and they had children, and so was all mankind made..”

Two days later the girl asked her father the same question. The father answered, “Many years ago there were monkeys from which the human race evolved.”

The confused girl returned to her mother and said, “Mom, how is it possible that you told me the human race was created by God, and Dad said they developed from monkeys?”

The mother answered, “Well, dear, it is very simple. I told you about my side of the family and your father told you about his.”

Found on Facebook: The Husband Chronicles.

Royal Frocks

Diana’s outfits served a different purpose, says Nothdruft. A recent bride and new mother to baby William, she projected a softer side of the royal family.“

Diana had a much more fairytale look with a princess-like aura. Her designers set out to create that image for her.”

Or, as her favourite designer Catherine Walker wrote in her autobiography, “It was about beauty and dreams.”

via Royal frocks | News Global TV.

I don’t like the media saying Katherine in the new Diana. Diana was her own person as Katherine is her own person. They will do things their own way and in their own time. Things are different in the 20 plus years since we had Princess Diana to royal watch.

 

 

 

 

 

I Know I Left it Somewhere…

Forgive me Diary, it’s been…. a long time since I’ve written. Not that I’m Catholic and guilty of anything in particular, I’m just using being busy with nothing much as an excuse.

I wonder what stuff is playing in your head as you read this? Do you have show tunes, oldies, or something entirely different? I’m hearing big band (I think that’s what it’s called). Earlier it was Rainbow Connection by Willie Nelson but that was because I heard it earlier (outside of my head but now, of course, it’s inside my head). Before, or somewhere between, I was listening to an orchestra and watching Fred Astaire dancing in a ballroom. His partner had a long, white glittery dress. But, it was all in black and white so in fact the dress could have been another colour entirely. These are the days of my head. A lot seems to be going on in there. Any time I stop to watch there are usually dancers of some sort. I like the Irish dancers and the fiddle music especially. Do other people have all this in their head usually? These are the things I wonder.

Now I’m thinking about that white gown and redesigning it. It’s starting to have a beach theme, there is a pattern like gentle waves along the hem, about five inches up the skirt from the bottom. Still all in white though. Sleeveless, just white straps at the shoulders, not those spaghetti straps (this is a dress she has to dance in after all, it wouldn’t do for her to have it falling off due to a strap breaking).  A hat would be kind of nice but impractical for the dancing. Still.. it’s my head and I can have her wear a hat if I want to. Something that looks like a partially squashed top hat, a bit informal like that. No veil this time. But it’s white and has the same snow-like glitter as the dress.

You’ve probably seen enough of my head now. About two days later and I still feel a bit weird headed after the clunk from the bow window. I must not have a concussion or anything to worry about. But maybe something is wobbling around up there. At least the headache isn’t very noticeable today. I can still spell my own name and I know what day it is (I looked at the calendar).  So I’m not worried about it, just keeping a check on myself till it all feels right again.

It is a lovely day today. The kind I like anyway. Just a non-weather kind of day. It’s a bit breezy and cool. My Mother the snowbird and gardener doesn’t care for it. But, for me it’s just about perfect. Not hot or humid. I could just about talk myself into going back to bed to enjoy it properly. It helps that I’m actually tired and would love to have an hour nap, or so.

Enough useless babbling. I do have stuff to do. I know I left it somewhere…