Sex and the Single. . .Mom?

Recently my friend Halem, mother of the cutest almost five year old on earth, regressed back to high school. Halem is presently living with her parents while she waits to buy a house. She also is recovering from almost five years of no sex, and then on top of that three months of bad sex. In any case, she just met this great guy that she was happy to have sex with (under the guise of a summer fling). So she calls me to tell me that she's spending the night with him, and I am very supportive and then forget about it. Later that night I get a phone call reminding me not to call her house because she told her mom she was hanging out with me and my sister. Of course I say "How old are you sixteen!?" and she giggles. So yes, for a night she was not the wonderfully mature, together, responsible mom, but a silly sixteen year old girl. What is really funny is that SHE HAS A CHILD! Everyone knows she has had the sex. What was hard for Halem was the fact that her mother would have known that at any given moment that night she might have been having sex. Halem's mom is a little too conservative to have spent an evening with that in her head. So she regressed and it was better for everyone. Except for me and my sis, who in imaginary world were having a great girls night out but were actually at home watching TV. Oh well. I did have a good laugh thinking about all of the stories we're going to have to come up with for the rest of the summer. The bigger question is how in the world do single moms do it?

The Dig of Despair

So I spent the morning in The OC (and most fortunately did not see those kids from Laguna Beach since I really would have had to yell at them) picking up my friend KK to take her to the airport. My lovely pal KK has just turned her life upside down and dropped out of her PhD. Program in Archaeology (something to do with weeds and sand, I've never been able to fully understand), and decided to return to studying art. I met KK when we were both 12 or 13, and both involved with the same theater group. We lived pretty far away from each other but spent a lot of time together. Eventually we went to different colleges and then I moved far far away and KK went to Berkeley. Long story short, she had always wanted to be an illustrator for children's books, and she could have. Yet, somewhere along the way she got pushed into what she was "groomed" for, despite the fact that it was not at all what she was interested in. KK has been in the Bay Area for awhile now and living with another archaeologist Dr. Sand. Now Dr. Sand is a nice guy, smart, kinda funny, cute etc. The problem is that KK has just discovered or, rather rediscovered, who she is and what she wants and it seems that Dr. Sand is not that. She is off to South America to do her last dig for the program and see Dr. Sand, and most likely break up with him. What's interesting to me is that most people want her to stay with him since he is so perfect. Nobody sees that KK doesn't want him, as perfect as he is. Isn't that what matters? Why is it that people like to push us into lives we don't want? Why is that we stay in lives we don't want? I don't know. I do know that I am immensely proud of her for making the right choice for herself. I just wonder why that is always so hard.

Silence

I've been silent now alone with my own thoughts for several hours. It struck me that the noises in my head are so much more disruptive than the outside noises. I was scared of silence when I was younger. I called people constantly, I watched TV, anything to avoid listening to myself. Lately I have been happy to be silent. I'm still prone to covering up my own thoughts,but I'm also very aware now of when I'm doing it and why. Silence helps me stay focused. My roommate, Mouse just walked in and reminded me to keep this blog focused, but he disrupted my silence. And then there's the ding from Mr Sailor dude and the IM. Don't they get that I'm focused? oooh fireworks outside!

Summer, Soccer, and long distance relationships

I am not the type of woman that needs to have a man around all the time. That is not to say that I don't like having a man, at all. I love being in a relationship. I admit to not being so very good at them, but, I like them. My issue is less a philosophical one than a logistical one. The problem with me and relationships is space. I can't stand having people in my space! Maybe it's because I had my own room growing up and very rarely had to share my space. I don't know why, that's just me. In any case, I am currently trying on what I believe to be the most ideal relationship for people like me: A long distance one! Mr. Sailor lives in Northern California, and La Petite Creole lives in LALA land, a good 580 miles apart. The joy to our set up is that when I get tired of him and sharing his lovely but teeny apartment I can call Southwest and in an hour and half-poof-I'm back home. No muss no fuss and back to the king size bed. It works. Mr. Sailor can also feel free to be his over worked underpaid self and not have to rush home to play house. The best part is I can sit in my own house smoking, eating crackers, and watching the world cup and not feeling like I'm emasculating my boyfriend and boyfriend can sit in his office and run around town with the other sailor dudes. There are drawbacks to be sure, fighting about time, different schedules, unpredictable sex(really the saddest part), and the undeniable fact that sometimes it's nice to have a sailor around. Yes it's true I love my space, but hey I'm a brat and I want space until of course I've got the stomach flu and no air conditioner and can't walk from my bed to the kitchen without dying. Well we'll see what happens with Mr. Sailor once summer is over and I'm back to working (a lot). It will be interesting to see who I really am. . .